Tavern Thread: The Hanged Man

[Don Incognito]

The door to the tavern bursts open, and in stumbles a young monk, dressed in dark tan robes laced with occasional stripes of white. His head is shaved bald, face is dirty, and he appears to be soaking wet (which is odd, since it's not currently raining. It is currently nighttime, however). Out of breath, he pants heavily for a few moments before wheezing out a few words.

"Please...someone....help...need...help...coming...they're coming...coming for me!"

[sblock=OOC]New adventure time! Wooooooooooooooooo!

This is a rather short(ish) excursion entitled Fire and Ice. I'm looking for a party of five characters, at least one of which should be second level. Several slots are already reserved, however.

1. Kalidrev (Crag, Warforged Warden, defender)
2. Ryryguy (Ingot, Warforged Strength Cleric, leader)
3. ???
4. ???
5. ???

Kobold's Captive just let out, so I'm hoping one of them will come along to help out all of these fresh young faces [/sblock]

 

[Lord Sessadore]

[sblock=OOC]Well, I'll let the folks with only one character take first dibs. Have fun, guys![/sblock]

 

[Kalidrev]

The door to the tavern bursts open, and in stumbles a young monk, dressed in dark tan robes laced with occasional stripes of white. His head is shaved bald, face is dirty, and he appears to be soaking wet (which is odd, since it's not currently raining. It is currently nighttime, however). Out of breath, he pants heavily for a few moments before wheezing out a few words.

"Please...someone....help...need...help...coming...they're coming...coming for me!"

As the monk delivers his plea for help, Crag steps over to him heavily, the floor thudding and shuddering under his weight.

"Remain calm, sir, and tell me what or who is coming. And it would be helpful if you would say why it is a problem for you that it, he, or she is coming for you. Do you need protection?"

 

[JRYoung]

Returning to the Hanged Man, entering slightly behind the monk in distress, is Skalisss the Dragonborn Paladin. Not sure what exactly is happening he observes intently.

 

[JoeNotCharles]

[sblock=OOC]
Sorry, Sessadore, I'd love to adventure with Tristan in the future, but I another plan for Ironheart right now. Besides, that party could use a bit of variety, I think.

Oh, I see I have to go catch up on Kobold's Captive now - I accidentally set it to "ignore" at one point and there's no way to turn that off, so I keep forgetting it exists.
[/sblock]

 

[nerdytenor]

A short, young looking Half-Orc enters the tavern. His most striking feature, other than his general lack of Half-Orc musculature, is his sky-blue hair. He is remarkably fresh faced, and as he looks around the inside of the darkened room, his face lights up in amazement. And excitement.

Is that a Paladin? And some other kind of holy warrior... Oh, I've heard of them. Reaper? Avenger, perhaps?

He looks around the room, noting each person, both adventurer and civilian alike, and he tries to repress a smile. He fails. He rushes forward and grabs a stool, and smiles broadly at the bartender.

"Hello," he says, brightly.

The bartender sits waiting.

"Oh, right. Yes, I'll have a, um," he fumbles, looking to the strange drink the man on his right is consuming. "I'll have one of those!" he manages.

The bartender smiles despite himself. When the young Half-Orc asks how much the drink is, the bartender explains that this one is on him.

"Name's Dorn, by the way," he says to the bartender, extending his hand. As he reaches to grab it, a spark of electricity shoots from Dorn's hand. "Sorry, sorry!" Dorn exclaims to the cursing bartender.

[sblock=OOC]
Dorn is a Half-Orc sorcerer looking for adventure.
As this is my 2nd PC, I will of course defer to those who are just getting started.
[/sblock]

 

[Mal Malenkirk]

Hadrak, the crippled cleric of the forge good, limps into the bar, with a big grin on his face.

-''All right, a good deed done, a purse well filled, and next my spirit lifted by good dwarven ale! A pint, barman!''

The door to the tavern bursts open, and in stumbles a young monk, dressed in dark tan robes laced with occasional stripes of white. His head is shaved bald, face is dirty, and he appears to be soaking wet (which is odd, since it's not currently raining. It is currently nighttime, however). Out of breath, he pants heavily for a few moments before wheezing out a few words.

"Please...someone....help...need...help...coming.. .they're coming...coming for me!"

-''Oh, for the love of the forge!''

Hadrak guzzles down his ale, wipes his beard and walks over to the monk.

-''All right, calm down my good man and tell us how we can help you.''

[sblock]
Hadrak is a level 1 cleric (Laser). He has one adventure under his belt but no magic items so he is pretty much on par with any new guy.[/sblock]

 

[Moon_Goddess]

[sblock=OOC]
Sorry, Sessadore, I'd love to adventure with Tristan in the future, but I another plan for Ironheart right now. Besides, that party could use a bit of variety, I think.

Oh, I see I have to go catch up on Kobold's Captive now - I accidentally set it to "ignore" at one point and there's no way to turn that off, so I keep forgetting it exists.
[/sblock]

[Sblock="ooc"] /me feels hurt.
[/sblock]

 

[ryryguy]

With a wink at Blade, he turns to look quizzically at Ingot.

"This time?" Tristan asks the warforged. "How many times were there before I arrived?"

"Not counting this drink, there have been five. Two mugs of ale, two glasses of wine, and a cup of the grease-cutter that Dextyr favors. I haven't quite decided yet if I enjoy the habit; more experimentation is needed." Ingot sniffs the mug of water, then takes a gulp. "Hmmm... odorless and tasteless. This is water, then?" Not what I had thought was commonly consumed in a tavern, it thought. But still, worth a try.

Tristan, seeing the second warforged come into the tavern, furrows his brow. "How many of these ... metal men are there here? I have never seen one before coming here."

"Tristan, there are several dozen of us that live at Daunton's Forge, where we were made," Ingot explains. "Others of our kind have left the city and travel the world, such as the newcomer, here." It gestures at Crag. "I haven't met him in Daunton before; he must have left town before I was made." It stands and extends a hand. "Welcome back to Daunton, brother. I hope your travels have been safe and eventful."

Crag looks over at the Elf and contemplates his comment. "I have been wondering that myself. I left the forge shortly after awakening and did not meet another of my kind until I came here. We are a curious lot. Born, yet not. Crafted from the earth, yet we have sentience. A living mind, yet only what I would call an...organic body. We are natural, and yet not."

Ingot listens to Crag's story with a look of mounting confusion. "How could you have left the Forge and not met any others of our kind? Surely at least Tender was there to greet you? How long ago were you made, anyway?"

It seems to notice the other warforged's strange, raw appearance and altered forehead glyph for the first time. What construction process was this? Was the Forge miscalibrated when this one was made? Or... could it be that he was not made at our Forge? Could it possibly be? Ingot's red eyes begin to take on a white glow as it stares intently at Crag.

 

[ryryguy]

The door to the tavern bursts open, and in stumbles a young monk, dressed in dark tan robes laced with occasional stripes of white. His head is shaved bald, face is dirty, and he appears to be soaking wet (which is odd, since it's not currently raining. It is currently nighttime, however). Out of breath, he pants heavily for a few moments before wheezing out a few words.

"Please...someone....help...need...help...coming...they're coming...coming for me!"

Ingot jumps up and hurries over to join the other adventurers who have clustered around the monk. In its excitement, it still clutches its half-finished mug of water.

"Sir, who is coming?" it asks. "And who are you?"

[sblock=OOC]Hooray, I'm back from the beach just in time for the new adventure to start!

I'm wondering if Ingot might recognize the monk's robes... should I make a skill roll?

I guess I need to get set up with invisible castle now in any case... so for practice, "I roll the dice to see if I'm getting drunk": 1d20+3=9[/sblock]
While waiting for the monk to respond, Ingot realizes that it's listing slightly to the left. Turning its concentration inward, it activates its uncanny warforged kinesthetic sense. It immediately realizes that a previously unused interior storage tank located in its lower left torso is nearly full. Hmmm... I will have to drain that soon, it thinks. In the meantime perhaps I can even out the load by filling this tank on the right side... It drains the remainder of its water in a single pull.