Playtesting: IG's 'The Making of Heroes'

[industrygothica]

This is the game thread. Please keep short OOC comments sblocked so that it doesn't interfere with the flow of the game. Anything longer than a line or two should be placed in the OOC/Discussion thread.

Please remember that this is not just a game, but a playtest as well. Your comments, ideas, and suggestions are very important to me, and are necessary for this project to continue.

Rogue's Gallery
OOC/Discussion thread

 

[Legildur]

A bored dwarven warrior sits on the verandah of the 'Rock Bottom' tavern with some of it's locally made ale in hand. Whilst most people here in Bjorah's Cliff would be looking out at the beautiful stream and forest below, this dwarf instead is turned to view the mountains behind.

"How long can they take to negotiate a trade?" he grumbles into his ale. "It's already been three days," he adds, speaking to no-one in particular. 'Bit early to start a fight', he thinks to himself as he looks around the other customers and continues drinking. He sighs as he waits for the merchants in the small caravan he is a guard for to conclude their trade of metals for the sought after leather from these parts.

 

[OnlytheStrong]

Aramil sits quietly, watching the people hustle around the village. He had followed a caravan for several days; sometimes running ahead of them, sometimes trailling behind. He had seen a few tracks, goblins mostly, but nothing that posed a serious threat to them. The caravan seemed to be in the hands of a few guards, although how good they were was a different story. If the caravan had seen him, then they did a very good job of disguising it. Aramil layed back and enjoyed the sun on his face. He would be happy to help protect them on their way back.

 

[industrygothica]

Dowkan Jarand quietly gulps his ale and contemplates the mountains surrounding Bjorah's Cliff when is attention is stolen by a commotion from the main road near the tavern.

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Aramil watches the goings-on of the town as he relaxes from his journey from the forest. The children are playing, and the merchants are bustling back and forth hauling loads of skins from a variety of animals. As the summer winds down and the autumn season quickly approaches, the hunters are making preparations for another long season--mainly by taking in a good drink before the real work begins.

A commotion to the right breaks his reverie, as young Jorgan DeLansing bounds down the main road, kicking up dust in his wake. The boy typically spends his days battling unseen dragons and mighty wizards with the wooden sword bouncing off his side, but today something very real has his attention.

"A rider!" he says as he passes his elven friend. Aramil can't help but take notice; caravans come and go through the small town, but lone riders are almost unheard of, and they rarely bring good news.

 

[Arkhandus]

Sitting against a tree near the tavern, an elf lazily watches the clouds drift by and thinks of his next money-making scheme. Irathias looks curiously towards the boy running by, mentioning a rider. He wonders what's got the kid so excited, and who's just ridden into town. Irathias decides to go look around in the direction the kid came from, as there might be someone interesting to see.

 

[Legildur]

Bored as he is, Dowkan stands with his ale in hand and wanders towards the main road to see what the commotion is about.

 

[OnlytheStrong]

Aramil spies the rider from some distance away and perks up instantly. The rider was in a hurry, a big hurry. Aramil was about to do something he had only done once in his life.... he was going into the town. He gathers up his belongings, making sure that everything is in it's proper place, and sprints off easily following the rider's dust tracks.

 

[industrygothica]

The crowd gathers as the rider dismounts and meets the mayor, Tharin Matherlay.

"Jorgan, tend to his horse good lad," the mayor says. Together he and the rider walk side-by-side, talking barely above a whisper. The crowd anxiously follows, but allows them a respectful distance. Finally the two men shake hands, and the rider continues on to the Rock Bottom Tavern.

Mayor Matherlay turns to address the crowd. "My good people, it seems that our friend Eldwin Hatcher's caravan has missed its arrival in Peyton by some three days now. Officials there--and here too, it seems--fear the worst. Are there any among you who would venture into the forest for what could be a life-saving expedition?"

[sblock=OOC]It's weak, but I suppose it'll do. Peyton will be on the southern route; I haven't named the other yet.[/sblock]

 

[Arkhandus]

Irathias steps forward after a moment, and says "I suppose I'm up for it. Think there'll be any reward for helpin' out?"

 

[Legildur]

Dowkan ponders the request for a few moments as he gulps down another mouthfull of the local ale. 'Good stuff this,' he thinks to himself. Wiping the foam from his beard, he watches as a young elf volunteers his services. The dwarf grunts derisively. "Bloody elf will get himself into trouble," he mumbles.

Thinking back to the ongoing trade negotiations, Dowkan 's impression is that they could be ongoing for another couple of days and this job shouldn't take long, and so lifts his mug into the air. "Aye, count me in," he says. "Anything is better than sitting around here," he adds to himself.