# Misery in Mordent



## Snipehunt (Sep 5, 2003)

The folk of Southern Mordent keep to their own and avoid the dark and powerful forces that infect so much of the land. Small villages dot the coast of this land of swamps, moors, and deep, ancient forests. Superstitious, but not paralyzed by fear, these hardy, practical people live by fishing and trade with their neighbors, as they have for hundreds of years. The traumas and joys, hopes and fears of an ordinary life are more than enough for them. Rumors of hauntings or dark deeds are enough for the Mordentfolk to leave a place be, a strategy that has worked for hundreds of years.

But tonight, in the small village of Buldon, doors are barred shut as a strange fog boils seemingly from nowhere. The normal fogs peacefully blanket the village, bringing quiet and solitude with the earthy smell of swamps and bogs. Not this mist, so dense it feels like a clammy hand reaching to caress your face, bringing with it faint noises that sound vaguely like screaming babes, and hints of strange chanting in almost recognizable tongues.

The rattling of wooden wheels rustles through the near-quiet town. A dark shape forms in the mist, four black horses pulling an ornate carriage covered in somber black except for gold trim gleaming wetly in the light. The carriage bustles down the only street towards Thristletown, and slowly the noises fade away. The mist fades away as well. The silence seems like a sigh of relief . . .


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## Snipehunt (Sep 5, 2003)

*Baldor Soulstone*

Baldor has returned home to his clan from his long travels, more skilled, a little richer, and much more powerful.  He is greeted with cheers, as the greatest craftsmen his clan has produced in centuries has become even better.

Baldor's father greets him with mixed news.  Baldor has a new nephew, named Datham'or, a bright, stout, stalwart little dwarf with bright eyes and already a firm hand.  But the clan has been suffering attacks from goblins and their kin, and many are suffering from a strange, wasting sickness that saps their strength and leads, in the end, to madness.  Baldor's brother-in-law, Kalok, was killed in an ambush that nearly took the life of Baldor's sister, Valodar.

Valador was not home when Baldor returned, and Baldor's father said that she had grown fierce and angry since Kalok's death.  She often patrolled the clan borders alone for days at a time, and refused any company or to tell anything of her adventures.

Initially angry that no one had contacted him about these troubles, Baldor immediately began researching and using his strange (for a dwarf) arts to find a cure.  He fell asleep, still in his armor and travelling gear, at his old workbench puzzling over the fierce sense of evil coming from his own home.

A thin scream woke Baldor up.  It was the unfamiliar sound of an infant crying in terror.  Baldor immediately thought of his new nephew, Datham'or.  His darkvision lighting the way, he grabbed his warhammer and shield and ran down the hall when he stopped cold.

It was his sister, Valador, holding Datham'or, but holding next to the infant's heck a long, curved knife engraved with black and red runes.  

"Stand back, brother.  I know what I'm doing.  And you do not," she said.

Valador then ran out the front door, and down a passageway into a small room Baldor had never seen before.  She closed and locked it.

Baldor heard an eerie, almost formless chanting in his sister's voice, taht soon seemed to be joined by three more female voices, strange to him and sounding as if they came through a long tunnel.  Baldor smashed the door off it hinges.  A dark mist blew out of hte room, revealing Datham'or lieing bound in a small stone cradle.  Valador had cut her forearm, using the blood to make a thin circle around the cradle.  Her eyes were closed, but she chanted with an ecstatic expression on her face - joined by three voices arising from the very air!

Baldor ran forward and grabbed Datham'or in the crook of the arm holding the warhammer.  Eyes rolling in fear, Baldor realized he could not leave the circle made of blood!

"You are too late, brother mine.  I have bargained for the power I need to avenge my husband!  Go with that reminder of all I once had - you who abandoned us to our fates."

A low rumbling noise erupted, and suddenly a phantom image of a dark coach drove through the walls.  Barely slowing down, a female human opened the coach door, reached out a pale arm, and grabbed Datham'or.  As the door opened, Baldor heard a femine voice in his head wailing and speaking faintly - _ah, no, another, so, another wee babe, oh, so many but what's this, oh, ugly, mishapen, it would never live, not in Mordent, thing? well worth, ah, but so many, I did not know so many, the price well worth my Davey_ - which breaks off as the carriage door closes.  

Baldor chases after, reaching for his spell components.  A wave of mist stirkes him from behind, pulling him after the coach and _through the wall _.  Baldor stumbles and finds himself on a cobblestone street in a small town.  The coach disappears in the the distance.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 5, 2003)

*Karthak Rohat*

Karthak stares into the darkness surrounding his tent, and instantly realizes he is _somewhere else_.  He hears a cackling laugh in the wood, and sees a faint outline of a female figure.

"So, Giorgio, you think to revenge on us, do you?" an ancient female voice speaks.  "You have killed enough Vistani blood, don't you think?  But you probably don't even know who your 'enemy' is, do you?"

An old crone with wisps of white hair steps from the darkness in front of Karthak.  She looks vaguely like the Gypsy fortuneteller that had led him to this bleak land, but is still very different.  Karthak scowls and raises his axe, but stops as the woman pulls an object swaddled in white cloth and the size of a watermelon, from her robes.  She pulls down on the cloth, revealing the small, sleeping face of a baby who looks _just as Karthak remembers himself looking as a lad_.  

"Did not know you had a son, did you, Giorgio?  Comes of a life without family or clan.  No rules, no structure, to help you learn the importance of family ties.

"Learn now, Giorgio, that the vengeance of the Vistani is so soft, so sweet, that you will not even know you have been struck until you fall, bleeding from hidden wounds."

The babe stirs, its eyes fluttering open.  He sees Karthak, and a small grin crosses the bab'es face.  He makes a smal gurgling sound, and shifts in the swaddling as if to reach out to Karthak.

A rumbling erupts from the woods, and the clattering of many hooves.  A dark coach drug by four black horses drives out from between two trees.  As Karthak stands in shocked awe, the crone steps back and the coach drives right between the two.  Without stopping, Karthak hears a sharp cry from the baby, then as the coach drives away, he sees a female arm dragging Karthak's son into the coach through the quickly closing door.  

He hears a strange woman speaking in his head - _oh dear oh what could this dear not another why make me take oh dear another but Davey I ah, so precious, somebody, I cannot let them have you, not the Three, somebody loved you so dear, Sisters, not them _ - which cuts off as the coach door slams shut.  The coach, quickly reaching a dirt road, and drives away.

The old crone cackles as the coach drives away.  Karthak thinks to strike with his axe, but abandons the thought - he must stop that coach!

Quickly realizing that his still wears his armor, Karthak grabs his longbow and other eqiupment, says goodbye fondly to his tent, and chases after the coach.  He loses ground quickly, thouhg, and the coach runs out of sight just as he enters a small town.

All he can in quickly-gathering mist is a dwarvish figure standing bemused in the middle of the cobblestone street.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 6, 2003)

*Ivar*

Ivar returns home from a long night enforcing orders for the Boss.  He yawns, stretches, and opens the door, looking forward to sheeding his armor and dropping all but his _essential_ weapons.  

The open door reveals a room filled with mist - as if his mom had left the fire burning all day with damp wood.  He hears a scream, and realizes to his dismay it's his young brother.  A woman runs out of the mist, holding the struggling, crying infant.  A large kerchief covers her hair and shades her face.  

Startled, Ivar lunges at her out of reflex.  But his sleep-deprived body is too slow, and he just misses.  As the woman clatters down the steps, Ivar's mother appears like a ghost out of the mist. 


Ivar takes the stairs in a leap, and runs out into the street, easily navigating in the dense fog.  _Funny, no fog when I came in_ he thinks.  He follows the footsteps for several hundred feet before he begins to notice that he does not recognize any of the shops and homes, or even the very street on which he is running. The gravel of Greyhawk streets cobblestones have been replaced with cobblestones. Through the mist, he catches faint glimpses of strange names and oddly shaped windows and doors.

Ivar is closing on the fleeing kidnapper when he hears the clopping of several horse-hooves and sees a large dark shape appear out of the mists. A strange voice seems to burst from the darkness - _An, I canna, I canna, do no ask this you Sisters you evil Sisters I canna I canna you Three someday this will be Oh, you Three over and over and _ - which shuts off at the sounds of the carriage's wooden door.

It occurs to Ivar that none of those words were spoken - he did not "hear" them. They simply appeared in his mind.

The coach only stands still for an instant, then the horses move quickly down the street.  Ivar realizes he has no chance to catch it.  He draws and fires his hand-crossbow at one of the horses, hoping to stop it's advance, but a strange force throws the bolt off target.

Ivar sees a human with a great axe panting and sweating in the middle of the street, and a dwarf looking oddly out of place.


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## Mithreander (Sep 8, 2003)

Baldor curses as he finishes bouncing down the street. Coming to his feet finally, he watches the carrage disappear in the distance. _Damn me short legs!_ He looks on the road for any sign of the carrages passage, but sees none and curses some more _I be needin' a ranger, that be what I need!_ he thinks as he starts down the street to get his bearings. Seeing nothing he can recognize, he blames the fog at first. 

_Should 'ave taken out it's wheel, I should 'ave!_ thinking of past events, but quickly shoving those thoughts away. _Don't help to dwell on things I can't be changin', after all._

With that last thought, the dwarven warrior moves to the nearest public area with people he can see... or if there are no people about, then to the nearest tavern or in. _Bamn, I miss Hefty and Mule!_ he thinks, looking around.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 8, 2003)

Ivar finds himself in the cobbled streets of an unknown village.  After getting his bearings, he paused, listening to the clatter of the departing coach.  The half-orc walked over the cobbled street through the thinning mists towards the axe-weilder and the dwarf, after reassuring himself that his rapier was at his hip and his crossbow at the other.  Just in case.

_Where is this place?_ he thinks to himself as he nears the two.  _Not Greyhawk...boss isn't here..._


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 8, 2003)

Karthak comes to a dead stop when he sees the town, the dwarf, and the cobblestone under his feet.  Talking to himself he says, _"This town wasn't here when I want to bed.  I was on the edge of a field.  I could see for miles.  There was no town.  I must still be dreaming." _ Biting his lip he realizes that he feels pain.  "It has to be a dream” Quickly running up to the dwarf, he grabs him and angrily shouts, _"Who are you?"_


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## Mithreander (Sep 8, 2003)

The dwarf, seeing the crazed man rush him, pulls back his fist and attempts to slam it into the careless, armored man. 

"Careful, boy! I be in no mood for a hug!" The dwarf holds up his warehammer in warning as he answers the mans inquiry. "I be Baldor Soulstone. Now who be you, and tell me why me hammer shouldn't make a home in your skull?"

[OoC: I don't know if you'll roll or what, but, if not then here is mine and the link to the die-roller I'd use. Punch: 26: Subdual Damage: 6. That counter attack was done on the AoO that would have been prevoked by Karthak on an armed man.]


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 8, 2003)

"Stop!" the half-orc shouts at the dwarf and the human.  His already small eyes narrow into slits as he rests his hand on the pommel of his rapier.  "Fight later!  Figure out where we are now!"  Ivar stares at the two.

_Intimidate: 17_.


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## Mithreander (Sep 8, 2003)

The dwarf looks up in surprise at the half-orc. _ An orc-kin be steppin' in to STOP a fight? Be this right to mine eyes?_ 

Intimidate check (though being a PC, it really does not matter): 19

"Aye, you speak the truth, green-blood, but the 'uman did start the agrivations!" the dwarf returns his glare at the human, though it lacks the conviction it did before.

"What say you, me lad? Set our differences aside, afor someone gets 'urt?


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 8, 2003)

Mithreander said:
			
		

> "What say you, me lad? Set our differences aside, afor someone gets 'urt?




_“Well, that settles it, I am definitely not dreaming”_ Karthak says to himself from his position on the ground as he moves his jaw back and forth and rubs it from the blow from the dwarf. _“I guess I deserved that. My fight is not with you dwarf! Forgive me for being so rude and give me a hand,”_ reaching out for an assist to stand.


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## Mithreander (Sep 9, 2003)

Looking at the hand, wondering if he should trust the large human, he shrugs, and offers him a hand and ans shoulder up (since he can only pull so far).

Once the large man is up, the dwarf smiles at him and replies "Aye, appoloy excepted!" Now that they were all friends (well, not fighting anyway) he turns to the others "Now, do either of you know were we be? And 'ave you seen a black carrage go that way? If'n you do, then do you know where it be goin'?" he asks.

_I best be hurrying... no time for fun right now!_ he thinks to himself as he stares in the direction the carrage went. Thinking of what he had before, he turns back to the other two, and asks "Do either of you 'ave the gift o' trackin'?" An anctious look enters his eyes as he asks.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 9, 2003)

Mithreander said:
			
		

> "Now, do either of you know were we be? And 'ave you seen a black carrage go that way? If'n you do, then do you know where it be goin'?" he asks.




Grasping the dwarfs hand and pulling himself up, Karthak takes a defensive stance as he sees the half-orc approach. But when he hears the dwarf speak of the black carriage, his attention turns immediately back on him. _“Looks like we share a common enemy though.  Why are you chasing the black carriage? And I was hoping you cold tell me where we are.”_


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## Mithreander (Sep 9, 2003)

Looking around at the fog enshrouded landscape, the dwarf shrugs. "Even If I did know where we be, I'd likely not recognize it in this fog! Aye, a common enemy that took me new nephew, and with me sis goin' crazy and 'usbandless, likely me only nephew!" He scowls at in the direction of the carrage and admits "Though me sis called the thing to protect me nephew, so I be hopin' 'e's safe."


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 9, 2003)

_"The carriage has taken a baby boy that may be my son.  Why did it take the children? What is going on here?!!!” _ Looking back to the Half-Orc he snaps, _“Who are you?”_ Quickly regaining his composure again, he says, _“Who are you friend.  Why have you been brought here?”_


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 9, 2003)

The orc looks at the human before saying simply, "Ivar.  From Greyhawk.  This isn't Greyhawk.  Ghost-woman took my brother."  He turns to the dwarf, and looks down.  "I can't track."


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## Snipehunt (Sep 9, 2003)

*Sir Drevan*

Sir Drevan and Aesa return from one of his many patrols tired and hungry.  The open gate beckons, lit torches set in sconces to either side of the raised portcullis against the darkening sky.  Approaching more closely, Drevan wonders why no guards stand at his approach.

Sir Drevan spurs his steed, concerned, when he hears cries and screams from inside.  He rides forward, Aesa asking what is the matter from behind.  Just before the gate, he recognizes an almost-formless mound as Jenald, a guardsman and long-time friends.  A long rut runs over his middle, crushing mail, flesh, and bone alike into the ground.  The bloody print of a shod hoof decorates his crushed forehead.

Suddenly a dark mist bellows out of the dark opening in front.  Streaming as if driven by a thousand winds, the mist quickly obscures all sight.  Drevan and Aesa are almost knocked down by a large black carriage shepherded by the mist out of the castle.  Clinging onto an open door is Drevan's cousin, Thale, bleeding from dozens of long gashes in his face and un-armored arms.  Barely visible in the doorway is a pale woman dressed in black, carrying a small bundle - obviously a child - in one hand while trying to shut the door with the other.  

A whip lashes back from the driver's seat of the carriage, lashing with a cruel barbed tip at Thale's face.  He lets go, tumbling in the wake of the carriage, screaming "Nathan," the name of his new-born son.  The door slamsshut.

Only as the door shuts do Drevan and Aesa realize that until then an eerie, wailing female voice had drifted through their skulls, saying -  _Not mine no not how long mine has it not mine been so long since Jonny my first those Sisters my first but no my the Three why this oh damn you damn you Three I am Sisters I am damned myself . . . _

Drevan charges after, following the carriage, followed closely by Aesa.  Aesa uses her powers, again and again trying to dispel any magical forces powering the dark coach, without any noticeable effect.  Drevan uses all his skill to drag further speed from his steed, finally closes in on the steed.  He musters his strength for a final leap onto the coach.  

The barbed whip strikes out again, aiming at the horse.  Pulling hard on the reins, Drevan steers his steed out of the path of the sharp barbed tipped, only to see a back-draw of braided cord strike his horse's chest.  It whinnies and rears.  Drevan fights to control his mount, wrapping one arm around its think neck for balance and gripping hard with his knees.  He watches in dismay as the coach drove away.

Drevan and Aesa quickly realize that they are in a strange land - murky marshland surrounds them, broken up by a few small plots of farmland.  They hear the coach clattering in the distance, towards a small town.  They follow as quickly as possible through the dispersing mist, and see a dwarf, a half-orc and a human standing in an otherwise empty street in a small town,  They are about 50 feet away.


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## Mithreander (Sep 9, 2003)

"Ah, may'ap these be some locals with information!" the dwarf says as he starts to walk in their direction, resembling something like a boulder in motion, slow but near impossible to stop.

Once he's close enough to make out the two people in the raod, he yells "'Ello! Are you from this 'ere town? We be needin' information, and you's the first we've 'ad the pleasure o' meetin'!" he yells through the sound dampening fog.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 9, 2003)

*Horatio and Osric*

Horatio finishes a last lullabye for the children in the nursery.  Kord's Temple takes in many orphans, strays, and runaways, but few of these wards are younger than five.  Kord's followers are a hardy and sometimes rough lot; although kind and caring, are not well suited for the very young.  Horatio always makes sure to spare some extra time for these little ones.

Osric watches from the doorway, wiping off the sweat of a long workout.  The full plate protects him, but also prevents him from scratching the itches left by the sweat dripping down his back.  He backs into the doorframe, rubbing his back on the armor while hoping the doorframe will hold the armor in place.

A glass window crashes in, tinkling shards of glass spreading over the floor.  The children start to wail as a dark, dank mist flows in the broken window.  A pale arm reaches in, then stretches to reach in further, becoming preternaturally long.  It grabs a screaming infant from a cradle, and stretches back out as mist blankets the room.

The two brothers suddenly realize that a faint female voice started rattling through their skulls with the breaking of a window, a strange voice calling - _Ah, a perfect strong the Sisters will be babe pleased the Three Sisters maybe I should ask hear that screaming voice just a little for a Dripping Rod stretch just a little more to reach thank the Sisters for the Dark Powers for almost hah! and out _ -that ends with the slamming of a door on the street outside, followed by the clopping of horses and the clattering of carriage wheels.

Without a word, both brothers run into the mist-shrouded room and jump out the broken window.  Horatio drops the ten feet down without care, but Osric's heavy armor causes him to land hard on his left leg.  He rolls to the side, his armor taking the brunt of the fall.

Through the mist, they can barely make out four dark horses dragging a black coach down the street.  The brothers run after it, the dark mist seeming to clutch at them and slow them down.  The chase it through the quickly-darkening streets of Greyhawk, barely noticing that the buildings surrounding them have subtly altered are slowly disappearing.  

"Horatio, don't leave me behind!" Osric calls out.  Horatio notices that he has begun to distance himself from his heavily-armored brother.  He halts for a second, watching the coach disappear in the mist ahead of him, when he sees it turn sharply right at full speed, tipping dangerously as it turned.  

Suddenly, a pair of horsemen appear out of the mist behind the coach.  A long whip tears through the mist from the front of the coach, initially missing the lead horse, then striking the horse as the whip recoiled.  The horse reared, and only a masterful display of horsemanship kept the rider in his seat.  The horseman slow as the coach quickly pulls away.

As the mist slowly dissapated, Horatio and Osric see that htey are walking on a small dirt road through a dense forest.  The road joins a large gravel-covered road running North-South.  The two horseman, a man and a woman, are talking in low tones . . .


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## Snipehunt (Sep 9, 2003)

*Map of the town*


```
wwwwwwww-------r-----ffffffffffffffffs
wwww-----------D-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwh-wwww------r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwww-wwww----h-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwhwwww------r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------Y-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-m---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----U-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-a---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-T---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----b-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----g-r--M-------------------s
wwwwwwwwww------r--J------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwwww-h-r-P--h-h--h-g----Hhm-s
wwwwwwwwwwwwwww-h-Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrd
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww---r-h---h--h--h------s
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww--r------------------s
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrS-----------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s

Legend:           each mark=20 feet
w=woods/swamp     U=Upstart Raven (tavern)
r=road            S=Sleeping Cat (Tavern)
s=stream          P=Pewter Mug (tavern)               
h=house           M=Meeting Hall
a=apothecary      J=Jail/Armory
b=blacksmith      H=Mayor's house     
g=general store   W=two members of the watch
m=mill            -=open ground
d=bridge          T=Temple of the Morninglord
f=planted fields  Y=Ivar, Baldor, Karthak
H=Horario, Osric, Drevan, Aesa
```

edited - to update new locations.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 9, 2003)

The appearance of light suddenly makes the group realize just how dark the town had been, and they note that the stars are hidden by dark clouds that leave the moon a pale glow that seems to generate more darkness by its faint light. 

East of the town is a forest mixed with swampland. Fields of wheat and other grains spread East until they reach a small stream that seems to mark the end of civilization, as a trackless wood springs from the far side. From the high stands of wheat, barley, and oats, it must be near Harvest time. A chill breeze confirms that the weather has turned towards winter.

Several houses, shuttered for the night, and some small stores and other establishments dot the side of the trade road through town. A small road heads East over a stream, and another head west into the swampland. Light shines from cracks in the doors of two buildings, obviously taverns, although the doors are now shut tight. Some figures loiter in front of a shabby building at the far south of town, but the darknes makes it difficult to see exactly what that building is.

A sign at the crossroads to the South reads "Thristletown."


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## Jarval (Sep 9, 2003)

The brothers slow to a halt from their previous dead run as the mists clear around them and the coach rattles off into the distance.

"Well, that was interesting..."  Horatio states flippantly, trying to cover his worry for the kidnapped child.  Osric grunts his agreement, gritting his teeth against both the pain from his leg and the ever more irritating itching from the sweat soaking into his padded shirt.

Noting the talking figures, Horatio quickly heads towards the horsemen, his brother pushing hard on his injured leg as he tries to keep up.

"Hello there!"  Horatio calls out to the riders, trying to attract their attention.  "Sorry to bother you, but myself and my brother seem to be a little lost.  Would you be as kind as to give us directions back to the Temple of Kord?"

"In the city of Greyhawk, if either name means anything to you."  Osric adds blandly, eyeing the odd garb of the two figures with some suspicion.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 9, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan guides the powerful horse up to the strange pairing of men looking to the right and left as he does so. Seeing nothing a familiar in the surroundings land and upon the horizon a small frown forms up his face, the frown looks natural and one can tell this face frowns a lot.  When close enough he gives to two quick looks over before dropping to the ground to have a closer look still.  

*“Temple of Kord?  I’ve never heard of a god by that name, nor have I heard of a city of Greyhawk.”*  He says the last part is if he’s trying it for the first time, slowly and surely.  His keen gaze catches sight of the leg and he calls his companion, *“Aesa, please would you see to his leg?”*  The redhead dismounts with a certain flair and her braided hair, more vivid from the oppressive environment, cascades around her.  She smiles at the man in an attempt to show she means no harm.  

*“I’m not sure if your style of dress either…  Where in Ansaslon do you come from?”*  The last question is said with a slight reluctance, as he's not certain what's going on.


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## Jarval (Sep 9, 2003)

Osric looks vaguely vindicated by the man's words, while Horatio looks more than a little alarmed.

"You've not heard of Greyhawk?"  Horatio says slowly, trying to keep his voice level.  "Or Kord, you say?"

"Oh, don't seem so shocked."  Osric sounds a little annoyed as he sits on the ground, glad to take the weight off his leg.  "It's obvious we're not any where near it.  Ansaslon's hardly a familiar name to us, now is it?"  He smiles at the red-haired woman, glad that someone is paying attention to his pain.

"Fair point, fair point, but no need to be so smug about it." Horatio turns back to the man, re-evaluating the situation somewhat.  "As my brother says, we've not heard of any country called Ansaslon, so it seems we might be more lost than I thought.  I don't suppose you could tell us where we are?  Oh, I'm Horatio Lackland, and that's my brother, Osric."  He extends his hand to the armoured horseman.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 9, 2003)

To be clear, everybody is at the same time and (basically) place.  All of the PC's and cohorts can see each other - but they are in two groups.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 10, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan shakes the other man's hand strongly but friendly with a big smile upon his face, before to long his gauntleted fingers return to his thick mustache, something you had seem him absently doing earlier upon his approach, *“Ansaslon is a continent not a country…  Anyhow it’s an honor to mean you.  My name is Sir Drevan Whiteshield, Crown Knight of Solamnia,”*  He turns to the side to allow everyone a better view of the redhead that is quickly working upon Osric’s leg, *“and this is Aesa Frostdancer friend and confidant.”*  If possible she gives an even bigger smile but quickly bows her head and continues to work upon the leg.  *If your brother is fit enough to travel it appear theirs a village up head…  Of course it’s never been there before nor does the land look anything like my native home.”* He finishes the last thought with a small frown upon his face.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 10, 2003)

Ivar walks towards the newcomers, arms crossed in what could be an imposing manner, if he didn't otherwise seem bewildered.  Taking care to step in a puddle so that the new arrivals could hear his approach, he continued striding forward.

"Kord.  Good," he said as he stood over the cleric, recognizing some symbols on his clothing.  "Greyhawk you say?  Ivar from Greyhawk, too."  He then looks at the knight.  "Never hear of Ansalon, though."


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 10, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan looks up at the creature with a slight like he’s never seen one before, *“Ahhh well they sure build them big in Greyhawk, huh?”* he gathers his wits quickly enough and turns to his horse.  He makes clicking noises to it and pets it softly around his ears.* “Aesa, is it my turn to care for the horses or your turn?*  Her smile and laughter fill the air as she replies; *“Drevan you know the answer to that, besides the horses like me better anyways.”* Driven canning the town before turning around to the others to address them, *”Well what tavern shall we aim for?  Their seems to be a few at least one has to have decent food, right?”*


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## Snipehunt (Sep 10, 2003)

As the Drevan, Aesa, Horatio, Osric, and Ivar speak, they see two men leave a small guardpost hidden in the forest to the North and start towards them. Both have muskets - the one on the East with his musket shouldered and carrying a lantern high on a stout stick in his right hand, the other with his musket lowered. (OOC - 40 feet north of you, off the map)

Karthak and Baldor see two more men walking North towards the , obviously just leaving the Pewter Mug. Both also hold muskets, and one holds a lantern in his hand, raised high. Stern expressions are on their faces, and their sharp eyes are focused on the two travellers who are barely illuminated in the lanternlight. (OOC - 60 feet south of you when you see them)

The soldiers from the North shout out "Who goes there?" Those from the South shout "Who disturbs the peace of this town?"


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## Mithreander (Sep 10, 2003)

Baldor, making his way to the other group in a stride that's self assured. He answers the guard enquiring about the peace of the town. "Worry not 'bout us. We mean you or your town no 'arm. Now put down your staff. Call be Baldor. I be a weaponsmith and armorer. Me and me fellows were just on our way for a drink." He points to the nearby tavern and then continues.

"But it seems our friends 'ave fallen be'ind." The dwarf, reaching the sitting injored man, four horses and three others says "What say you? That there place look good for some ale?"


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 10, 2003)

Walking beside Baldor as he approaches the other group, Karthak remains silent as the dwarf speaks.  His mind is filled with thoughts of where he is and trying to figure out what is going on.  Seeing the musket in the hands guards, he wonders what a strange looking weapon.  He has never seen one of its kind and nudges the dwarf and gestures to it when Baldor mentions he is a weapon smith.  Finally he loudly speaks as the dwarf finishes talking, _“I could definitely use a good stiff dwarven ale right about now.”_


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 10, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan joins Baldor next to the guards, *“My name is Sir Drevan Whiteshield, Crown Knight of Solamnia, I’m a keeper of the peace and not a breaker their off.  My friends and I just require a place to sit and enjoy a good hot meal, and maybe a place to stay for the night”*  Drevan gives a small but serious smile while he awaits their answer.


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## Mithreander (Sep 10, 2003)

Looking at the 'weapon', the dwarf shrugs and nods to the needed drink. He answers with: "I miss my asses." as if that explained his feelings, though his nod seems clear enough. He could use a drink.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 10, 2003)

The guards from the South walk quickly, but carefully, after Baldor, Ivar and Karthak as the three move towards the other four characters.  Both groups of guards stop about 50 feet away - two the North, two to the South. One guard to the North, a tall, gangly man with long blonde hair tied into a ponytail, approaches more closely, holding the lantern high. He is wearing well-worn leather armor colored a bright red.

"Sorry to break up yer little _party_, strangers, but 'pears to me you ha'nt answered me question.  Who are ya, and what be ya doin' traipsin' around in Thristletown after dark?"

From the angle of the moon, and the relatively warm night despite the occasional chill wind, it appears to the party that it is roughly 9 pm.


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## Mithreander (Sep 10, 2003)

The dwarf turns to the guard and notes the gangly youth with a scowl. "Lad, you best be watchen that there tongue o' yours. It'll get ya in more trouble, then your friends can get ya out o'." Baldor then turns to the others in his _party_, and answers the guard. "We be travelers, by the look o' it. We be here in this town after dark becuase that's when we got 'ere. I gave me name, and so did there man." he says nodding towards the knight. "now mayhap you anser some o' our questions. We followed a black carrage 'ere. oo's is it, and why did they take me nephew!" the last is more a growl then words, the mear rememberance of the insident causing the normally placid dwarf's blood to boil. His face turns a darker shade, and his knuckles turn white on his warhammer.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 10, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan gives the dwarf a sideways glance and then takes a step forward to address the guards, *”I too was chasing after a black carriage but I lost it in the mist and seem it gave lost my way in the same mist”* Drevan looks a bit embarrassed in admitting to being lost.


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## Mithreander (Sep 10, 2003)

Quickly cooling down after a couple of deep dreaths, the dwarf turns to the guard and appologizes. "Sorry there, lad. It 'as been one 'ell of a night. I be tired, I lost me asses, and I'm thirsty for some ale. So if'n you 'ave no objections, me and me friends will be goen to that there tavern and grabben a pint." The dwarf then starts in the direction of the nearest inn/tavern/establishment with spirits (and I don't mean the temple!)


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## Jarval (Sep 11, 2003)

"Greeting to you, Ivar."  Horatio welcomes the half-orc.  "Good that another of the City is with us."

Osric stands with Aesa's help, gingerly testing his treated leg.  "Thanks, lass, you've fixed it up a treat."  He grins, buckling the greave back onto his left leg.  "Good to meet you, Ivar."

The two men watch as the guards approach, Osric's fingers inching towards the hilt of the greatsword slung across his back as he eyes the unidentified weapons.  Both brothers stand ready to give aid if needed, watching as Sir Drevan and a dwarf speak with the soldiers.

"So you also where pursuing the black carriage?"  Horatio looks in surprise at the dwarf.  "A ghostly arm took one of the orphans in my charge, and my brother and I tried to chase it."

"Aye."  Osric nods at his sibling's words.  "Much good that it did.  Those damn mists must have been reeking with magic to move us to whatever place this is."  He stares dourly at the swampland, scratching his chin as he thinks.  "Seems to me that someone wanted us all here pretty badly to expend that much power..."

"Which makes me even more concerned for the safety of the child."  Horatio interjects.  "But our dwarven friend is right, there's little more we can do this evening."  The bard turns his attention back to the guardsmen.

"As strange as it may sound, it would seem that none of us know quite how we came to be here..."

"I can make a damn good guess..."

"Thank you brother, I'm sure you can.  Or indeed where here is.  I'd be most grateful if you could enlighten us on the latter point, and, if your duty allows it, direct us to an establishment where we can stay the night.  Oh, and I've forgotten my manners entirely.  I'm Horatio Lackland."  He extends his hand, palm upwards, to the guard, a friendly smile on his face.

"Kord help us, could he be laying it on any thicker?"  Osric mutters quietly, rolling his eyes at Horatio's little speech.


*OOC:* I've put Horatio's dialogue in sandy brown, and Osric's in yellow green, trying to make things a little clearer.  If anyone dislikes the colours I've used, or the idea of coloured speech in general, I'll edit it back to normal.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 11, 2003)

ooc - oooh, what a good idea!  Wish I'd thought of it.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 11, 2003)

*OOC:*


I love it too[/OCC]


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## Mithreander (Sep 11, 2003)

OoC: Think it looks great! Nice job on playing those two too.

Baldor looks to the two brothers, eyeing them with an air of someone out of pacients, and motions to the tavern. "There be a place we can sleep, and if not, I garentee you that once you pass out on the floor, they'll show you where you can!" He then notes the guards once more and adds "No offence, 'course."


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## Snipehunt (Sep 11, 2003)

There's a sharp crack, a noise like a small thunderclap, and a flash of light as one of the guardsman discharges his musket  into the air.  The party jumps in shock at the sudden discharge, and sees one of the guardsmen lowering his musket and pulling out a long, thin metal rod, cleaning and reloading it with a metal ball and some powder from what looks like a dried horn.

In the sudden silence that follows, the party realizes that they haven't heard any noises from the nearby tavern the entire time (nearly 5 minutes) they have been in this strange land.  Light peers out from cracks in the door and between the shutters, however.  The sign above the tavern shows a black raven walking on two legs and carrying a crown in it's beak.

In the dim light of the lanter, the party can just barely make out a smirk on the face of the blonde-haired guard, who says, "I hope I've got yer *attention* now.  It's clear as the noon sun to me you be furriners in this land.  Furrinners, now, gots to pay a license, if'n they lacks papers.  Ya got papers?"  He waits for a second.

"I didna think so.  That'll be, what, is it 20 gold a person now? 20 gold for each of ya." 

He holds out his hand, resting his musket in the crook of the arm holding the lantern.


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## Mithreander (Sep 11, 2003)

"Well, if'n that's the law..." the dwarf says he makes a move to his purse and looks to the blonde "I'll pay it directly to the person 'o's in charge, and not some rough necked pee-hole such as yourself!" He pulls his hand away and moves closer to the young man. "Lad, I be thinken you have little authority 'ere except that given to you by you noise-and-light maker. I'd either see this law with me own eyes, or talk to the person who'd rob me o' me 'ard earned cash!" With that, he growls "I don't take well to threats."


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## Jarval (Sep 12, 2003)

Both brothers jump at the thunderclap from the guard's staff, and suddenly there's five feet of sharp steel in Osric's fist.

"Now listen closely to me, boy."  He snaps, the blade waving an intimidating pattern in the air.  "We've only just arrived here, and we've been _perfectly_ civil so far.  But you start trying to screw us over for gold, and I'll get a hell of a lot less civil.  Are we clear?"  Osric takes a step towards the guard, never letting his eyes fail in their lock with that of the blonde-haired man.

"Umm, now, let's not be to hasty here Osric.  We don't want a repeat of the Cultists of Iuz incident now, do we?"  Horatio take a few steps back from the guards.  He looks pleadingly at the blonde-haired soldier.

"Please, just let us past, so we can rest for the night.  If you want, we'll drop by the guard house tomorrow to discuss any dues."  He _suggests_ hopefully.


*OOC:* From a rules standpoint, that's Horation using a combination of Bluff (+16, the Cultists of Iuz bit), Diplomacy (+22, please let us in the town), and a _Suggestion_ spell (to just generally improve the odds).


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## Snipehunt (Sep 12, 2003)

OOC - do you mind using a dice roller?  I like this program - here.  No need to roll this time - you can take a 1 and make the diplomacy check (I'm ruling this is a use of diplomacy to alter reaction).  The suggestion fails. 

The guard's eyes narrow as Osric draws a weapon and he backs up a few paces, grabbing his musket with his free hand.  As Horatio speaks, the guard shakes his head, appears dazed for a split second, then continues to back up.  He stops suddenly and considers what Horatio has said.

He laughs.  "I just be joking with ye.  Of cor', there ain't no need for licenses.  Ain't that right, fellas?"  He glances nervously at the other three guards. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he wears a look of true fear.

Before the party can take any action they hear a commanding baritone voice boom out from the South as a tall warrior strides into view. He is wearing a clean, well-maintained breastplate over well-made clothes, and wears a wide-brimmed hat with a white ostrich feather. A brace of pistols are stuck in his belt, which holds a rapier in a scabbard.

"McDonough, what in the name of the Nine Hells do you think you are doing? Didn't I tell you next time I caught you codging travellers would be your last?" 

He walks slowly, without concern, up the street, walking right by the group to the locked door of the Upstart Raven. He knocks three sharp, quick raps, then two slow, then three more quick, and yells, "All clear, Duggan, you all can breathe easy again," through the door.

Then he walks back the group, smiling and relaxed. "You are excused," he says to the four guardsmen. "Except McDondough - you, drop your musket here, and turn in your gear at the brig tomorrow." More sternly, he says, "And if I don't see you by 9 sharp, I'm sending out a warrant. I'm through with you."

McDonough lays down his musket, and slinks off into the night. He spares a mean glance for the 7 newcomers, then disappears between two houses. The other three guards walk North to the guard station.

"Welcome to Thristletown, such as it is. I'm Sheriff Monat. From Mordent Town," he says, smiling and shaking hands with each. "Stay out of trouble, stay off the roads at night if you know what's good for you, and don't bother the mayor unless you want to be stocked. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to the men."

He immediately begins marching North


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 12, 2003)

_“Aye, finally someone in charge worth spending our words on, eehy dwarf!!! Excuse us Sir Monat!  Could you tell us where we are and if this blasted fog will ever be gone?”_  As Karthak speaks, he walks to the musket on the ground and picks it up, examining it and removing the long rod that McDonough pulled out earlier.  _“Interesting weapon isn’t it my friend?”_ He says to Baldor.


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## Mithreander (Sep 12, 2003)

Baldor grunts at the sargents back and turns to Karthak and the weapon that he holds. "Aye, lad, tis that" he says with interest. "I'd like time to study it." he finishes as he looks up at the taller man. "Ya have interst in weapons then?" he asks as he starts to head to the tavern. "We'll discuss it over a pint, if that be alright with ya."


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 12, 2003)

Ivar had been puffing himself up and poising himself for another bout of intimidation, but after the sheriff's intervention relaxes.  Although, of course, he spares the time to make a rather rude gesture in the direction of where McDonough vanished.  He turns back to the others.  "To the tavern.  Ivar hungry."


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## Snipehunt (Sep 12, 2003)

Baldor and Karthak beat Monat to the dropped musket.  Karthak calls out to Monat, who does not appear to respond until Karthak carefully picks it up, and is starteld to find the long metal barrel hot to the touch.
Seeing Karthak pick up the musket, Monat quickens his pace.  As Karthak and Baldor discuss the strange item, Monat strides up to them and interrupts their conversation.

"Give me that," he says with disgust.  He grabs for the musket (OOC - since it's not combat, I'm ruling he just does it) and tries to grab it from the startled Karthak's hand.  (OOC - Strength check 7 think you can beat it?) "That belongs to Mordent."


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## Jarval (Sep 13, 2003)

"Food sounds like a good idea."  Horatio agrees with Ivar.  "Last one in the bar buys the first round."

"Now you're talking."  Osric grins, sheathing his sword as the brothers set off quickly towards the tavern.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 13, 2003)

*At the Upstart*

Ivar, Horatio and Osric are at the front of the tavern.  The two-story building is in good repair, with stout wood and daub walls and a firm wooden door in front.  Several shuttered windows dot the walls, although fire- and lantern-light peeks out between the shutters and the walls.

Faint laughter and singing can be heard inside.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 13, 2003)

Ivar pauses at the doorway, looking back towards the other companions, not entering first since, in this place, the average tavern-goer probably doesn't like the looks of half-orcs too much.  Especially a well-armed one.  "Priest first," he says, flashing a grin that reveals nasty, yellowed pointed teeth.  "Then dwarf, then knight, then pretty lady, then Ivar.  Or all at once."  His grin vanishes, one tusklike tooth sticking out of his mouth yet.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 13, 2003)

Snipehunt said:
			
		

> "Give me that," he says with disgust.  He grabs for the musket (OOC - since it's not combat, I'm ruling he just does it) and tries to grab it from the startled Karthak's hand.  (OOC - Strength check 7 think you can beat it?) "That belongs to Mordent."




Out of instinct and not liking to be muscled around, Karthak jerks the musket away from the sheriff and grabs the sheriff by the throat with his free hand.
 _“I suggest you let go!”_  He states through his gritting teeth.  


OOC:  Not sure what all I need to do here, but here is my Strength check [Roll 14 +5 STR = 19 Total]  and whatever the next roll would be to grab him.  A base roll of 19,,don’t know what bonuses or penalties you would want to use. I am assuming I would make a grapple roll, so I went ahead and rolled that as well [Roll 19 +5STR + 8BaB = 32 Total]  I used Nadaka’s DiceBox to roll.  Mithreander will vouch for me that it’s a good rolling system.

User: Karthak Rohat 
Roll Number: 401 
Date/Time: 10:35:50 PM on 9/12/2003 
Dice: 1 D 20 + 0 
Total: 14. 
Results: 14 
Description: Strength Check 
Link to this roll: http://www14.brinkster.com/nadaka/Experiments/DiceBoxSearch.asp?FindValue=401&SearchFor=RollNum

User: Karthak Rohat 
Roll Number: 402 
Date/Time: 10:37:38 PM on 9/12/2003 
Dice: 1 D 20 + 0 
Total: 19. 
Results: 19 
Description: Grapple Check 
Link to this roll: http://www14.brinkster.com/nadaka/Experiments/DiceBoxSearch.asp?FindValue=402&SearchFor=RollNum


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 13, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan was about to announce that 20 GP for each person seemed more than reasonable and was fishing for a few steel pieces to pay for it when the sheriff arrived.  His gut instinct told him he liked this man and that the trouble had passed.  He moved over to the fair redhead whispering words of warning to her about the unknown nature of this place in her ear as the two of them gathered their more important belonging from the horses.  He turned at the sound of the struggle and was upset to find the Karthak trying to rip the weapon from the sheriff’s hand, *”Hey!  We are friendly travelers here and that’s obviously the towns property!”*  Even in his shock he knows the warning is too late…


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 13, 2003)

Ivar starts down the steps of the tavern, heading back towards Karthak who's struggling with the sheriff.  Once he hits the cobbled street, he breaks into a run, thoughts running through his head as he approaches.  His brain is torn between his disregard of authority and law enforcement in particular and the knowledge that here, where they don't really know where they are, they might not want to alienate authority.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 13, 2003)

As chaos erupts on the street, the three guards turn back in stunned amazement that travellers would attack the Sheriff.  One of them blows a shrill whistle, and torches appear in front of the Armory.  

The Sheriff, expecting these travellers to quietly acquiesse to his demands like so many others, did not expect Karthak to challenge him.  Karthak easily rips the musket from the Sheriff's grasp, and his other hand quickly grabs the unsuspecting Monat by the throat.  Monat raises one hand to Karthak's, as the other fumbles for something at his belt.

(OOC - that roller works for me - let's use it.  Monat's grapple check30 - I'm only going to be posting rolls for a little while - when this gets going, it'll be a mystery bwa, ha, ha )

Everybody roll initiative.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 13, 2003)

Initiative=18


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 13, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Initiative=21


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## Jarval (Sep 13, 2003)

"Are we with them?"  Horatio asks as Ivar sprints down the street.

Osric looks back at the scuffle with the sheriff, then turns back to his brother.

"This time, I think we're not."  He states as he opens the tavern door and steps inside.


*OOC:* The dice roller site wasn't working, so no initiative from me.  But I guess that doesn't really matter for my actions this round


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 13, 2003)

Karthak looks at the Sheriff like he had just appeared out of nowhere.  Releasing the grip on the sheriff’s throat he states apologetically, _“Forgive me, I do not know what came over me.  Finding out I have a son only to have him kidnapped right before my eyes.  Then coming to this strange place and instantly being bullied when we did nothing wrong.”_  Handing the sheriff the musket he steps back waiting for his response.


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## Mithreander (Sep 14, 2003)

Initative: 18

Baldor, seeing the mess his companions are getting him to, shakes his head and loosens his shoulders. "Lad?" he says to the human who's holding the sharif, "Could you let the man have his boom staff?" 

The dwarf looks neither worried or concerned. If these men have had the same training as those in this post at home, he can easily best any of them... including the sharif.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 15, 2003)

Order:

Drevan/Aesa:21
Ivar: 18
Townfolk:18 
Karthak:18?
Baldor: 18
Horatio/Osric:17?
(a lot of 18s- odd.  Make sure you roll separately for cohorts   - doesn't matter much here.  Baldor, the townsfolk, Ivar, and Karthak have already gone, I'm treating Drevan/Aesa as delaying (staring in shock), Horatio and Osric haven't gone.)


Monat stops grabbing for his pistol, and instead rubs his throat, in particular two round marks showing the faint imprint of a quickly-forming bruise where Karthak's index and thumb had grabbed Monat's throat.  Monat watches warily as Ivar runs towards him, but seeing no overt threat in the tall humanoid he disregards him.  

Monat considers what Karthak had to say, and listens to Baldor asking Karthak to let go of the stick.  Rage and fear compete behind his eyes, and then all emotion either is eliminated through sheer force of will or is hidden though careful control of emotional display.  He looks at the three guardsmen coming to his aid, and hears the same commotion the party hears from the armory - more guards, and perhaps other reinforcements, will be here shortly.

He takes the musket back from Karthak's, and bows his head slightly.

"A misunderstanding," Monat squeaks.  He clears his throat, and speaks again in the commanding baritone he used earlier.  "A misunderstading, then.  I am sorry for your loss, but I remind you that we of Thristletown have nothing to do with your troubles, and will not be amused by such . . . actions."

He backs towards the three guardsmen, checking first to make sure he is not in the path of fire between the guardsmen and the party.  At least a dozen figures quickly approach from the South, many of them obviously carrying muskets.  One hangs towards the shadows and walks with an athletic grace that Ivar and Horatio recognize as similar to their own.

The door to the Upstart Raven opens a crack, a sliver of light streaming onto the dark street. and a jowly, elderly man peeks out.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 15, 2003)

Seeing the guardsmen continue to advance and Monat not saying anything further, Karthak asks _"Are you going to call them off?"_


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## Snipehunt (Sep 15, 2003)

Monat, now about 10 feet from Karthak, yells out, "Guards, stop at 20 paces." (OOC -60 feet, I figure you know, but . . .)  Monat continues to walk away, stopping 30 feet from Karthak.  From the discipline and easy weapon familiatiry shown by these guard, Baldor slowly realizes that the common warriors that make up the guard at home are clealry inferior to these Mordentfolk - they may even be better warriors than he.

The other townsfolk (O) are breathing heavily (OOC - I'm giving about 2 rounds between the whistle and Karthak letting Monat go - probably, no, definitely a little long, but I want to get everybody here quickly.  If that annoys you, post in the OOC and I'll move them back 60 on the map).  

One of the two townsfolk hanging back is an old, thin man with a long grey beard; the other is a chubby, pleasant looking fellow with red hair and a well-trimmed read beard.  The older man carries a wooden rod topped by a brass orb that is imprinted with an official-looking seal.  Except for the one who appears to be a rogue, none of the townsfolk look like they have any real fighting experience.

Horatio and Osric yet to go, then top of the order . . .




```
| | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | |[COLOR=red]G|G|G[/COLOR]| |
H H  | | | | | |
H H  | | | | | |
H H  |[COLOR=red]S[/COLOR]| | | | | 
H H  | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
H H  | | | |  H H
H H  | | | |  H H
 | | |[COLOR=mediumturquoise]H|K[/COLOR]| |  H H 
 | | |[COLOR=mediumturquoise]O|B|I[/COLOR]| | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
U U[COLOR=mediumturquoise] D[/COLOR]| | | |  M M 
U U [COLOR=mediumturquoise]A[/COLOR]| | | |  M M
U U| | | | |  M M
U U| | | | | |M M
 | | | | | | | |
 | | |[COLOR=red]G|G|G|G| |
 | | |G| |G| |[/COLOR] | 
 |[COLOR=red]R[/COLOR]| | | | | | |
 | | |[COLOR=red]O|O| [/COLOR]| |A A
 | | | | | | |A A
H H  | | |[COLOR=red]O|O[/COLOR] A A
H H  | | | | | |
H H  | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | | |
 | | | | | | |T T
 | | | | | | |T T
 | | | | | | |T T
 | | | | | | |T T
 | | | | | | |T T

H=house            R=Probable Rogue
U=Upstart Raven    O=Other Townsfolk
T=Temple           S=Sheriff
M=Mill             G=Guardsmen
K=Karthak          D/A=Drevan/Aesa
B=Baldor           H/O=Horatio/Osric
I=Ivar
```


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## Mithreander (Sep 15, 2003)

Recognizing the experience of the men here as guards, he's a little shocked! Normal guardsmen with HIS kinds of skill, and more? (Baldor would be the equivalence of a 5th level fighter, and with his gear, much higher then that!) Oh, well. It's not his fight. 

Seeing the door squick open and the sounds of merryment from inside, he blows out his mustache and pushes the door open. "Move aside! I'll have none of this, for all I be wanten is a pint and a smoke." he tries to push the door open and enter the building, putting his hammer on his belt.

Strength check: 17


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## Snipehunt (Sep 15, 2003)

*In the Upstart Raven*

The jowly man reluctantly stands aside as Horatio and Osric push open the door.  Just before the door slams shut behind them, Baldor  rushes over and pushes it open and walks in after.

The three are hit with a blast of noise and warmth, espcially welcome after the damp cold and darkness of the night outside. Inside, the room is well lit, and a cheery fire burns in a stone fireplace set in the middle of the room. A dozen or so patrons sit at the four tables, or at the long bar that runs the back of the main room. At one table, three men and and women in their mid-twenties are singing an old folk song of a young woman who swam to sea searching for her lost Jeremy.

The man who opened the door quickly returns to the bar, where he watches the three suspiciously. He was much fatter in his youth, evidenced by long jowls hanging down both sides of his mouth, and flaps of loose skin on his arms. A middle-aged woman is carrying a tray filled with dirty clay mugs and wooden plates.  Some of the patrons call out to "Duggan" for more ale, marking this old man as the person Sheriff Monat had spoken too earlier. 

When the three enter, a hush falls over the room. He can hear whispered questions ("Who be these? Ever seen the likes of the 'ittle one one? T'ain't fair season, why they be comin' now?") from the patrons.

OOC - All three make a spot check.  I'm ruling that Baldor went to the bar at the last initiative action, and putting him equal to Horatio and Osric.  He says his piece to Karthak before he walks to the bar.  These three PC's are now on a different track than the four outside - no more posts for them please until the outside is resolved, unless they want to join the action there.


----------



## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 16, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan frowns upon the actions taking place around him as he turns around to Aesa, *”I don’t believe this really concerns us...  Lets go tie the horses up together.”*  He pets his war horse behind the ear one less time and then grabs the rein to lead it to the stables.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 16, 2003)

Karthak begins to back up towards the door to the Inn where everybody else went. _"Simple misunderstanding, didn't mean no harm."_  If the guards let him, ,he backs into the inn without saying another word.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 16, 2003)

Keeping one wary eye on the guards and Karthak to see what transpires, Ivar stalks away towards the inn Horatio, Osric, and Baldor entered.  _No fighting, least not yet.  Just got here.  Don't know to trust guards or not_, Ivar thinks as he walks through the darkened cobbled streets.  _Drink, food_.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 17, 2003)

Ivar and Karthak both walk cautiously towards the Upstart Raven.  The elderly townsman quickly runs forward, stopping between the guardsmen and the two adventurers.  

"Sheriff, no need to be hasty," he says in a pleasant, carrying voice.  He looks incredibly worried, much more than Karthak or Ivar thinks any native of this town should be concerned over a possible arrest of two strangers to this town.  "These travellers haven't done anything wrong that I can see.  We don't want to be _starting_ any trouble, especially tonight, do we?"

A fierce expression crosses *Monat*'s face for a brief second, then disappears into blandness.

"An apology from that surly fellow.  That, and we consider this over."  He calls out to Karthak, "And I am known far and wide as a man of my word."


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 18, 2003)

Karthaks face turns red, thinking to himself how he was only reacting to how the rude sheriff ripped the weapon out of his hand to begin with.  Gritting his teeath and biting his lip, he finally calls out. _“I apologize for any trouble I have caused…forgive me……sir!  Will not happen again.”_


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## Snipehunt (Sep 18, 2003)

Monat smiles broadly, removes his hat and bows with a flourish.

"Yours, good sir . . . Karthak, I believe?  I always have time for a gentleman.  Should you need one."

With that, he dismisses the guards, except for the three he was inspecting, and continues walking North.  The other townsfolk linger for a little while, then disperse, the rough-looking, sneaky fellow watching carefully before heading South and quickly disappearing from view.

Unless I hear otherwise, tomorrow will be the Upstart Raven for all.


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## Mithreander (Sep 18, 2003)

Spot check: 5

Baldor, not noticing anything unussual, except for the patrons calling him short, moves to the bar, and placing his shield on his back, after taking off the near empty backpack from his back to the floor. He then climbs up the human sized stool, cursing the unnecesariely tall bar. After reaching the top, he takes his mug from his belt and motions to the bartender. "Ale be what I wanten, so be quick about it!" he takes a silver from the pouch at his waist and places it on the bar.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 18, 2003)

*OOC:*


 Snipehunt sounds good to me, Drevan will go with Aesa to the stable as the deal with the sheriff and the guards have him uneasy (which isn’t unusually) and we would rather be safe than sorry.  After that their heading to the Upstart Raven to meet up with everyone else.


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## Jarval (Sep 19, 2003)

(Horatio's Spot Check: 17

Osric's Spot Check: 18)

Horatio and Osric gladly step into the warmth of the tavern, both looking around the common room.

"Looks just like home, doesn't it?"

"Taverns all over the world do, I've been told.  But I'm reserving judgment until I've found out what's in the stew.  They eat some strange things in foreign places."

"You know what you're trouble is?  You've got no sense of adventure.  Don't you ever want to explore tastes outside of mutton stew?"

"Mutton stew has stood me in good stead all my life.  I see little need to go upsetting my digestion with anything exotic unless absolutely necessary."

"Like I said, no sense of...  Hey!  Did that man say I look like I'm from a fair?"

"I dare say you do.  Your outfit is a little high fashion for a town like this."

"Hmm, good point.  Maybe tomorrow I'd better try and find something a little less conspicuous."

The brothers head over to the bar, Horatio nodding a greeting to any patrons they pass on the way.

"Another ale, and a mug of wine, if you'd be so good."  Horatio smiles at the innkeeper, passing a couple of silver coins over to join Baldor's.

Osric sits with a grunt on a stool, pulling off his gauntlets.  "Gods be praised!  I've been on my feet far too long today."  He unstraps the greive on his injured leg, wincing as the pressure on his knee is relived.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 19, 2003)

*Heres to an unfriendly welcome!*

Karthka hurries into the Inn and slams the door behind him.  Walking straight to the bar, he plops down on the barstool next Baldor.  Slapping five gold pieces down on the counter he states._ “Give me something strong and keep it coming.” _Looking over at Blador he wipes his brow and asks, _“You want one too?  I’m buying!”_  After receiving his drink he stands and addresses everyone _“I want to make a toast!  Here’s to being alive after such an unfriendly welcome.”_


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## Mithreander (Sep 19, 2003)

Baldor, just glad to see that the fighter has no holes in him (and twist this way and that to make sure he's right), answers the man. "Aye! I'll accept an ale bought for me." Baldor raises his glass with a smile, though he cannot understand the guards appearant paranoia, he hopes to soon.


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## Snipehunt (Sep 20, 2003)

*In the Upstart Raven*

OOC - I drew a map and everything!  Couldn't you at least of spit at a guardsmen or something?  

Karthak opens the heavy oak door, setting loose a blast of noise and warmth and the scent of food and good ale.  The room is deadly quiet, no noise except the crackling of burning logs in the fire.

The room is well lit, and a cheery fire burns in a stone fireplace set in the middle of the floor. A dozen or so patrons sit at the four tables, or at the long bar that runs the back of the main room. At one table, three men and and women in their mid-twenties were singing an old folk song of a young woman who swam to sea searching for her lost Jeremy, but stopped instantly when Baldor entered.  The other PC's, especially Aesa, gather a few suspicious looks, but Baldor and Ivar are eyed with open hostility.  A few whispers start up  ("What be this?"  "A dwarf, first o' all, and now a monster?"  "Summat got to be done."  "Where be Monat?") from the patrons.

A tall, elderly man is tending bar. He was much fatter in his youth, evidenced by long jowls hanging down both sides of his mouth, and flaps of loose skin on his arms. A middle-aged woman is carrying a tray filled with dirty clay mugs and wooden plates.  One of the patrons call out to "Duggan" to "do something about these folk," marking this old man as the person Sheriff Monat had spoken too earlier. 

Duggan looks askance at the whole party.  When his eyes cross Baldor, they stare at him for a long, hard second.  He looks at Ivar, and his jaw clenches as he quickly looks away.

"Travellers, I'll stand ya a mug of ale, but ya drink it outside, hear?  Just leave the mug outside, and head off ta the Sleeping Cat.  They'll take yar sort down thar."

He quickly pours 7 clay mugs of ale, somehow manages to grab them 4 in one hand, 3 in the other, and heads for the door.  He stops right before the cluster of PC's, pointedly waiting for them to leave.

Everybody make a spot check.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 21, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Sir Drevan not in the mood to cause trouble simply grunts while turning to leave his free hand brushing his full mustache once more...  Aesa flashes her contagious smile and says, *"That won't be an issue It's simply to much of a wonderful night for waste it in doors anyway."* and also turns to leave brushing her hand on Sir Drevan's shoulder in a effort to clam him...  As she makes it across the room she turns slightly to the old bartender and gives him a small flirty smile stating, *"Thank you for your kindness."*









*OOC:*


Sir Drevan's Spot Check=2 
I guess I trip over the bar that I didn't see when I turn to leave...   
Asea's Spot Check=21


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 21, 2003)

_You have got to be kidding me!!”_Karthak grumbles.  _“We are paying customers, and your going to kick us out?  What if we decide to stay?  What if we want to sit at that table over there?”_ he says as he points to the table that the complaining customers are sitting.


OOC: 
Spot Check : 11 Total http://www14.brinkster.com/nadaka/experiments/DiceboxSearch.asp?FindValue=Karthak&SearchFor=UserName


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 21, 2003)

Ivar says nothing, but wrinkles his semi-orcish snout at whomever called him a monster, and takes the proffered ale from the old barkeep.  "Maybe Ivar not want to go," he says as he takes it.

Spot Check= 12.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 21, 2003)

_“I don’t know about the rest of you, but we have been treated poorly since we arrived at this strange place, and I am tired of it.  Is the next place going to kick us out or threaten us as well?”_


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## Snipehunt (Sep 22, 2003)

> "You have got to be kidding me!!”Karthak grumbles. “We are paying customers, and your going to kick us out? What if we decide to stay? What if we want to sit at that table over there?”




Duggan ignores Karthak at this, holding out a mug of ale for him to drink.



> "Maybe Ivar not want to go,"




"Wall, that be up to you," Duggan says as the bar grows ominously quiet.  "But I ain't treated you aught but polite, and ya'll be welcome at the Cat.  All are, even such as you," he says pointedly to Ivar.


[QUOTE]“I don’t know about the rest of you, but we have been treated poorly since we arrived at this strange place, and I am tired of it. Is the next place going to kick us out or threaten us as well?”[/QUOTE]

Duggan aims a hard look at Karthak.  "I dunna recall a body askin' you here, or to this Thristletown.  It don't take many to upset an apple cart, and oncin' it be done, ain't nar way to get all the apples back in.  So 'scuse me if we don't roll out the red carpet and hand ya the keys to town.  But I'll be glad to stand ya an ale, to let ya know dar aint no feeling 'gainst ya in particular."

Spot checks - 

Those above 10 see the middle-aged barmaid go behind the bar pick up a long metallic object looking something like a musket, except it has a large, bell-shaped muzzle (blunderbuss).

Aesa sees written on a post next to the staircase a series of hash marks.  The lowest, about 24 inches tall, is written next to "Kevin, 12 months."  The next is about 30 inches tall, and has "Kevin, 18 months" next to it.  The last is about 36 inches tall, and has "Kevin, 2 years" next to it.  All of the hashmarks were carved, and at one time were died or colored with ink, but someone spent a lot of time to erase the coloring, and tried to sand out the marks and words themselves.

And on a side note, I'm moving, and probably won't be able to post until Friday, maybe wednesday.  Hope you're enjoing ravenloft - sounds like it's starting to get annooying, but you're close to where the action starts, and it'll start running.


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## Mithreander (Sep 22, 2003)

Baldor looks around in near amazement. "This be the first tavern I've seen where me kind are not wanted! I can understand the orc-kin, no offence," the last to Igor. "But dwarves? Well now, if'n you want business to suffer, then this be the way to do it, for where dwarves are not welcome, our ale is not sold." He scouls at the mug offered him and says "No, thank ye. I have me own mug, an' 'ave no need for your non-dwarven brew and lack o' 'ospitality." Baldor turns and leaves. If that's the way of it, then he's fine about taking his business elswhere.


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## Jarval (Sep 22, 2003)

Osric grunts in pain as he gets to his feet, and makes a decision.

"Right, I've had enough of this."  He grabs his gauntlets and greive, before limping to the door and stepping out into the street.

Once outside the hostile atmosphere of the tavern, he takes out his holy symbol and chants a quiet prayer to Kord.  A red-gold glow briefly surrounds his hand then dissipates as he touches his leg. ***

**********

Back inside the tavern, Horatio scowls back at the innkeeper.

"You know, you could try being a little more tolerant.  Just because the lad's got tusks, you're treating him like dirt.  Quite frankly, sir, I would not give you my custom now, even if you were to beg for it."  He moves away from the bar, and lays a hand on Ivar's shoulder.

"Come, my friend, let us find another hostelry that will serve us.  I for one do not wish to be associated with such bigots as these."  Chin in the air, Horatio strides magnificently out of the door, cutting a fine and noble figure... to his own mind, at least.


(Osric drops _Shield Other_ to cast _Cure Moderate Wounds_ on himself.  I know you ruled that he'd not suffered any Hit Point loss, so it's just a piece of flavour text really.

Oh, and Horatio's exit is 20 Charisma being used in a very pointed way )


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 22, 2003)

"Phaah," Ivar says, or exhales.  He heads out the door, ale in hand.  Once outside, he drains it in one swallow and tosses it back to the old barkeep.  Then he reaches under his cloak and pulls out his small silver wineflask and takes another drink.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Sep 23, 2003)

Karthak takes the mug of ale offered to him and with a smile, pours its contents on the floor as he exits the Inn.  
_“Lets look for the Sleeping Cat that that scum was talking about,”_ he states to the others once outside.


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## Mithreander (Sep 23, 2003)

Baldor, understanding their attitudes, can not find it in himself to remain angry. Thes efolk, with the police force they keep and their attitudes, odviously fear alot. Now that it is appearant that they fear something, it's time to seek out what... or would have been if he did not already have a quest. "Come, perhaps we'll find answers at the cat." he says as he moves in that direction.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 24, 2003)

"Aye," Ivar mutters in reply to the dwarf's suggestion.  "Maybe find out who ghost-woman is."

OOC: Taking care to say this a bit loudly, so that possibly the barkeep can hear it as he returns to the tavern.  Maybe he knows something more.


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## Mithreander (Sep 26, 2003)

Baldor, continiues up the street to another place that looks like a tavern, trying to look for signes that might indicate that it was the Sleeping Cat.

```
wwwwwwww-------r-----ffffffffffffffffs
wwww-----------D-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwh-wwww------r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwww-wwww----h-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwhwwww------r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-h---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-m---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----U-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-a---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----h-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww------r-T---fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----b-r-----fffffffffffffffffs
wwwwwwwww----g-r--M-------------------s
wwwwwwwwww------r--J------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwwww-h-r-P--h-h--h-g----rhm-s
wwwwwwwwwwwwwww-h-Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrd
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww---r-h---h--h--h------s
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww--r------------------s
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrPS-----------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s
wwwwwwwwwwwww------r------------------s

Legend:           each mark=20 feet
w=woods/swamp     U=Upstart Raven (tavern)
r=road            S=Sleeping Cat (Tavern)
s=stream          P=Pewter Mug (tavern)               
h=house           M=Meeting Hall
a=apothecary      J=Jail/Armory
b=blacksmith      H=Mayor's house     
g=general store   W=two members of the watch
m=mill            -=open ground
d=bridge          T=Temple of the Morninglord
f=planted fields  P=Party
```


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## Jarval (Sep 27, 2003)

Horatio and Osric walk up the street after Baldor.

"What do we do if the innkeep at the Cat takes against us?"

"Camp out.  We've got enough gear for at least one night in the open, and I'll have had enough of these folk's snotty attitudes by then."


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 27, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan looks at the two brothers before reply, *“I agree on both accounts, but everyone in the village says this place will takes us in.  Guess we will find out soon enough..."*  His thoughts trail off but only for a secound, *"Either way it goes like not make anymore of a seen then already has been made.“*  His mood gets darker as he thinks about the black carriage, *“We all seem to have much in common and wasting time arguing with the locals isn’t going to make are loved ones return any quicker.”*


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## Snipehunt (Sep 30, 2003)

(Sorry for the d-lay.  Moving turned out to be a.  A pain.  

Taking over for a second   . . .)

The party walks South to the Sleeping Cat.  A few shadowy figures are lounging about outside, one smoking a small pipe (which may be new to your PC's).  They eye the PC's, but otherwise ignore them.  The sturdy door hangs unevenly from the doorframe.  They push through to enter.

Although the Upstart Raven was not the most luxurious or stylish tavern the members of the party had visitied, it was comfortable and homey.  The Sleeping Cat, however, compares unfavorably to the most beaten-down, dirt-floored, flea-infested peasant's hovel.  Only a few grime-covered lanterns shed any light in the single room downstairs.  Mismatched chairs, many with sticks of wood splinted onto broken legs, show the abuse of years of brawls and hard use.  Tables are bare, unpainted wood for the most part, although they appear to be clean.  The floor, however, is littered with the damp, smelly remnants of straw put down to cover the sticky wood floor beneath.  Old bones, bits of hard bread, the heads of carrots and other refuse also litter the ground, as well as shards of broken glass and pottery.  The party wonders at the broken glass, evidence of wealth not shown elsewhere here.

Behind the bar is a tough-looking middle-aged man.  One eye is covered by a blue eye-patch with a crudely-painted eye in the center.  Stubble covers his scalp and chin, and he has lost the the last two fingers on his left hand.

At least a dozen people are sitting at the tables.  One group of 4, three men and a woman, appear to be wearing leather or studded leather armor and to be armed.  They could be be brothers and sister, all with similar features - dark brown hair, beady brown eyes, and long noses.  Sitting at the table with them is a tough-looking man in exceptionally dark and oily studded leather.  The eyes of the party seem to slide right off of him.  A long scar runs along his chin under his mouth, making him look like he has a second pair of lips.

Another group of 3 features a short, thin, wiry woman wearing chain mail, a fat man with studded leather, and another woman, with long, flowing blonde hair, wearing exceptionally fine clothes for such an establishment.   The woman in chain is complaining loudly about the weight of the metal armor as the party enters, and picking some of her black hair out of chain links that had caught it.

The rest of the patrons appear to be down-on-their luck farmers, except for the surprsing sight of McDonough, the disgraced guard, sitting with his head down at the bar.

"Just wear a braid, Legestra, nobody here cares for your pretty locks," the blonde-haired woman says as the party enters.  She appears ready to say something else, but stopsand appraised the new group.

In the sudden silence, the bartender speaks up with a hoarse voice.

"Common ale be a copper, strangers, but we got the finest from Kartakass for 2 silvers.  Whiskey if'n ya want it."  He gestures with a dirty mug to an empty table in the center of the room.  "And for strangers, I does gots two rooms - 1 gold each.  I wouldn't advise sleeping outadoors, if'n ya know what I mean."

At that, the other patrons beginning chuckling evilly.


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## Jarval (Sep 30, 2003)

"Oh Gods, they think they're witty..."

Ignoring his brother, Osric heads to the bar, and puts down three gold coins.

"We'll take the rooms, and I'll have a whisky.  Wine for my brother, if you have any, and I'll pay for whatever my friends order."  He takes a seat at the table, quickly joined by Horatio.

"A little extravagant, don't you think?  We've only just met these folks, after all."

"I don't care.  They're in the same mess we're in, and at least I know my coin's of some use here.  Other than Ivar, we don't have the first idea where they all come from, or what they use for money.  I can spare some gold for tonight, and I'm sure they'd repay the favour if we needed it."

"Perhaps.  Anyway, interesting joint, this.  Got a bit more character than the Raven.  And the people look a little more our type."  Horatio smiles, looking around the inn.  "I might even do a performance, if the owner's willing."


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## Andrew D. Gable (Sep 30, 2003)

Ivar looks around the tavern's common room, taking in its ramshackle appearance.  This was the kind of place he was used to.  "Ale," he says almost idly.  Then, "What's wrong with outside?"


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## Brother Shatterstone (Sep 30, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan with a slight worried look that the half-orc question would upset the patrons, *“Not that my friend here is implying that anything is wrong with this fine establishment, but we’ve gotten many warning about the sleeping outside and not many explanations.”*  Drevan glances around looking for a chair that looks sturdy enough to handle his weight and the weight of his armor.  Upon finding one to his liking he places his hand subconsciously upon it while nodding to Osric and his act of kindness, *“I’ll have the whiskey too.”*  He then turns to pull a chair out for Aesa who had been taking in the establishment with a very interested expression upon her face.  Drevan’s hand upon her shoulder causes her to jump slightly while forcing her from her daydream.  She smiles at Drevan, as a slightly red tint spreads over her cheeks, mouthing a simple thank you while taking her sit.  Upon setting she turns to the bartender and orders with her normal smile upon her face, * “I’ll take wine if you have it also. ” *


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## Snipehunt (Sep 30, 2003)

The bartender squints through his one eye at Osric's coin.  He reaches out a grimy hand and picks it up.  

"Feels right.  But this hain't the seal o' Mordent.  Nor any udder land we's seen."

He bites into it, leaving small indentations where his mismatched yellow teeth hit the coin.

"Taste's right.  Tell yer what, I'll take yer coin.  But ya hain't but paid for 5 o' Kartakass, and thar be 7 of ya.  Being as ya wants both rooms and all.  Ya wants the common?" he says doubtfully, taking in Osric's fine clothes and the espensive armor of the others.

The group of four alike-looking ruffians snickers at Ivar's question.  But it appears good-natured to Ivar, who recognizes souls kindred to his own in many ways.  

The woman appraises the tall, strange-looking half orc in a long, steady look.  "You might not have any troubles here, traveller, if you make the right friends."

She groans for a second, then reaches down to rub her shin,  "None of that, Adris!" she says to one of her companions.  "I need no brothers lookin' after me."

At that, the four put their heads together and continue a quiet conversation.

(listen checks for everyone)

Drevan and Aesa take a seat near the front at an empty table.  Although the chairs look rickety, the binding and splinting has made strong, if odd-looking, seats.  Blue-Eye looks over from the man and woman and laughs.

"Tain't nothing right about this place, but it'll do the trick," the bartender says.  "There be all manner of strange things about at night.  Once yer out of shot o' the guard, you be on your own.  Take care."

(Unless I hear otherwise, Ivar, Baldor, and Karthak are also at the table for the moment.  You can stand to talk to the folk at your next post, or wait developments.  Listen check first, though.)


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## Mithreander (Oct 1, 2003)

Listen check: 16

Baldor grins at theplace around him and says, underhis breath, "We have finely found the true meaning of humanity in this town." Since it was not to anyone, he does not expound upon his comment, though he does chuckle at it. 

Taking a seat at a table, having to jump a little to get into it, then pulls out a pipe and tabbac and lights it up. "Nice place." He turns to the bartender and yells "A silver seems steep for a pint of ale. Is it trully that good? I'll give it a go, if'n that be the case, and since me friend 'ere is buyen!"


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## Jarval (Oct 1, 2003)

Horatio's Listen check: 27.
Osric's Listen check: 6.

"My pardon friend, it seems I've lost all ability to add numbers."  Osric passes another two gold pieces to the bartender.  "Kartakass for us all, and one for yourself.  It's good to get a decent welcome somewhere this evening.  Do you have anything we might eat?" 

Horatio sits quietly at the table, trying to judge the acoustics of the inn, drumming a faint rhythm on the table with his fingers.  He hums gently to himself as he waits for his drink.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Oct 1, 2003)

_ “Ahhhh,  home sweet home.  This is more like it.  What ya got to eat in this place my friend?” _  Karthak asks the bartender.  
 _ “I’m starving.  I will gladly pay for the meals of all who want to eat, even the locals.  Ill buy the next round of drinks for everybody in here as well.”  _ 
Getting comfortable in his chair he looks back at the bartender. 
 _ “Ale for me and the biggest plate of food ya got, take everybody’s order and let me know how much I owe ya.” _


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 1, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan rest his elbows, arms up, upon the table and his head upon his hands in a universal sign of impatience he seems rather uninterested in the patrons of the tavern his mind consumed with the job at hand and that black carriage.

Listen Check: 4 








*OOC:*


I see a pattern of poor checks developing...







Aesa, on the other hand scans the room many times while waiting for the drinks before turning to pay attention to Horatio’s rhythmic drumming.  She looks up at him smiling before she starts to join in to the drumming.

Listen Check: 18


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 1, 2003)

Listen: 5.

OOC: Bad rolls indeed...


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Oct 2, 2003)

OOC: Oops, forgot to roll for listen check.

Listen Check Roll : 15 +2 mod = 17 total
Link to roll:
http://www14.brinkster.com/nadaka/Experiments/DiceBoxSearch.asp?FindValue=705&SearchFor=RollNum


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## Jarval (Oct 3, 2003)

Horatio grins as Aesa joins in on the drumming, modifying the pattern to better suit two percussionists.

"You've got a good sense of rhythm."  He says after a moment.  "Have you been musical trained?"


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## Snipehunt (Oct 3, 2003)

Horatio, Baldor, Aesa, and Karthak hear and observe the the following at the table w/ three similar looking peeople and one very tough-looking man:

Male with a mole on his cheek - "Ya ain't kiddin', I gots nothin' left but this." He drops a nearly empty change-purse on the table, then pats it to emphasize it's lack of coin.

Female with a raspy, seductive voice- "Aye, but it'll be pickin' up soon. Traveller's be startin' to come, we'll get ours'n from the take. The salts'll be needin' their fancies, and summat other'n dried fish to eat this winter, and sure'n they'll need another shirt or dress or summat."

Mole - "Ah, and sure, that's why Monat cancelled the Fair, eh? Because so many merchants and tinkers and Vistani will be comin' to Thristle?"

Male with deep voice, "Be caused by the swamp beasties, eh? No one w' any sense or an'ting to sell be coming down the Coast Road with all the swamp emptyin' into the roads.

Female - "That's why Burrat's here, eh? Get rid of that problem, and mebbe we all gets a little for usselves in the process. Eh, Burrat?"

At that, the tough-looking man snaps to attention and slaps at the female. "Quiet, you three. Enough chatter. Head home, and meet me here tomorrow at dawn."


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## Snipehunt (Oct 3, 2003)

At that, the three peole, apparently locals, leave, the woman giving Ivar a steady, appraising stare as she walks by the table.  An infinitesmal tip of her tongue seems to dart between her lips, and then she is gone into the night.

The other, apparenlty Burrat, sits back to drink the rest of his mug.

Blue-eye, the bartender, walks over to the table, somewhat crowded by the 7.  He apologizes for the delay, and sets 7 mugs of rich, amber ale in glass before the party, as well as 7 heaping bowls of some sort of seafood stew.  It smells spicy with exotic scents to the starngers to Mordent, and tastes surprisingly good for such a place.  The ale is perhaps the best any have tasted, and Baldor, Ivar and Horatio in particular have tasted their fair share (OK, poetic license).

Blue eye treats Burrat with extreme deference, asking him if he would like more ale as one would ask a king.  Or an executioner.  Burrat declines, and watches the party surreptitiously.  The remaining table of non-farmers (besided McDonough, who sits at the bar) also steals looks at the party.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 6, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Aesa while listing to the other table replies to both the change in beat and to Horatio questions with blushing smile and slight giggle, “Not really… but somewhat.  It’s more of a pastime and I couldn’t live long on my musical talent.”  Smiling at the bartender she thanks him for the food and ale quite surprised that he didn’t drop half of the 7 mugs.

Drevan waited patiently for his ale almost as if he was withdrawn to the world and didn’t come too till the bartender arrived.  Once “awake” he thanked the bartender and turns to the others at the table and some form of a toast…  “I hope it’s worth the cost.”

Neither one of the two companions realize just how hungry they were in till they taste the remarkable soup.


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## Jarval (Oct 7, 2003)

Horatio frowns briefly on overhearing the conversation, mentally noting to discuss the matter with his brother when an opportunity presents itself.

Returning his attention to Aesa, Horatio shrugs at her assessment of her talents.

"You've got enough sense of time to make you better than many bards I've heard perform."  Then he grimaces jokingly.  "Not that it would take much in some cases.  So, which field is your calling?  Myself, I'm a singer foremost, with little training in other musical areas.  Ah, here's the food."

"Gods."  Horatio says quietly on tasting the beer.

"Aye."  Osric takes another sip from his mug, savouring the flavour.  "You could start wars over the hops this was brewed from.  Lets hope the secret never gets out."  He grins, enjoying the ale.

The brothers quickly make an impression on their bowls of stew, Osric clearing his plate well in advance of the rest of the group.  He leans back contentedly in his chair, forgetting for a moment the trials that brought him to this place.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Oct 7, 2003)

Karthak doesn’t completely understand what the locals were talking about and wants to ask the others what they got out of it, but thought it would be better discussed elsewhere.  

Eyeing the disgraced soldier at the bar, Karthak pushes away his food, grabs his drink and stands.   _“I have some unfinished business that needs taken care of."_ 

Quickly crossing the room, he walks up behind the soldier, places a hand on his shoulder and plops down on the barstool next to him.   _“I think I owe you a nice strong drink...and an apology.  What’s your poison? And I will not take no for an answer” _ 

Karthak orders two of whatever drink the soldier wants and drinks one of the drinks with him.   _”I am sorry, I have always been bad with names.  I am sure I heard yours, but cannot remember it.  I am Karthak.”_ 

Karthak waits for the mans response and then continues.   _”Well, I have a proposition for you.  It appears that you are out of a job,  and we are in need of a guide that knows what the hell is going on around here.  You seem like the perfect man for the  job.  I do not know about the others, but I would be willing to pay you a good amount for your service.  What you say, you join us at our table and discuss it over a bowl of soup?” _


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 7, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Aesa smiles as see bites into a rather succulent mouthful while at the same time trying not to laugh or spill the contents of her mouth as Horatio patiently waits for his answer.  Finally, under control Aesa smiles and replies, "Oh a little song and a little dance, but my real love is the flute.”  A slight noise from Drevan interrupts a more elaborate answer from Aesa as everyone turns to look at Drevan.  Drevan up to this point had been enjoying his meal and making a fair amount of small talk with those gathered at the table.  Now he’s looking at straight to the bar and Karthak.  I slightly worried look falls across his face as he’s worried at the Karthak temper if the apologize falls upon deaf ears.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 7, 2003)

*At the Sleeping Cat*

Blue Eye walks over to check on the party.  He wears a stern, emotionless expression, but his furtive hand movements and tone of voice make it obvious that he badly wants to impress the group with his establishment.

"Aye," he says, smiling, as he overhears compliments.  "The finest ale in all Mordent.  I've an uncle who sends a cask every fortnight, an' I tell ya it be the best.  I've saved the best rooms in the house for yas, but fer the others been taken.  Still, sorry an' all, but thar ain't enough for all of yer to have private quarters good for your, umm, marital impulses.  pay up in the mernin.'  I'se trust yas."

He returns to the bar, leaving the party their privacy, although returning to refill mugs as requested.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 7, 2003)

Thrarn Iranorn said:
			
		

> Karthak doesn’t completely understand what the locals were talking about and wants to ask the others what they got out of it, but thought it would be better discussed elsewhere.
> 
> Eyeing the disgraced soldier at the bar, Karthak pushes away his food, grabs his drink and stands.   _“I have some unfinished business that needs taken care of."_
> 
> ...





"I don' belief we haf been introduuuced," McDonough says.  McDonough belches once, releasing a foul stench of stale, sour beer.  Throughout this conversation, McDOnough punctuates his speech with belches, flatulance, and scratching of improper areas.  He grabs a new mug of ale from Blue Eye, and stands up.  "Name's McDonough."



> Karthak waits for the mans response and then continues.   _”Well, I have a proposition for you.  It appears that you are out of a job,  and we are in need of a guide that knows what the hell is going on around here.  You seem like the perfect man for the  job.  I do not know about the others, but I would be willing to pay you a good amount for your service.  What you say, you join us at our table and discuss it over a bowl of soup?” _




McDonough drunkenly appraises Karthak with bleary, bloodshot eyes.  Then he nods assent, and walks over to the table.  Without introduction, however, he begins speaking, wobbling as he stands (he refuses to sit down).

"Back ter Buldon?  No thankee, ssssir.  Let me jes' say, I want ta say I mean, I mean to say, no hard feelin's 'bout earlier.  Me time was numbered, what with the Sheriff and all.  I'm the only one as knows what happened in Buldon all those years ago.  'Ceptin' him.  When we went there a week after Duggan's grandson been taken."

McDonough belches again, then raises his hand to his lips and wipes a trail of yellowish saliva from the corner of his mouth.

"The Sisters, if ya find them.  Thar bad news, yes they are.  Not quite human, and theys gots helpers.  Strange creatures that can never die, jes keep comin' and comin' until the Sheriff threw a fire grenade at 'em.  But that ain't the hardest of the part.  The worst o' it all was the Pale Walker.  She came out o' the swamp like a storm o' hate, her ghostly touch enough to drain the life o' a man.  We wouldna survived except for a man comin' from the wood, a lumberjack looked like, all burly and hairy and carryin' a giant axe.  Couldna really see 'im in the twilight, but he were somethin' fierce.

"The Pale Walker, she twirled her dress and screamed in rage and came right at the man, but he stood still and the Walker just sort o' stopped like.  That scream though 'twere enough to drive me an the other survivor out, but the Sheriff, he stayed.  Brave man, the Sheriff.  Next I know, an hour later or so the Sheriff tracks us down up the road whar we be hidin', carryin' our dropped weapons.  He says, 'It's all taken care of.  No need to worry 'bout the kidnappin's anymore.'

"We asked about Kevie, but the Sheriff says it's too late, a week with the Sisters and thar ain't no savin.  A day earlier, an' all would be well."

He finishes his ale.

"So mebbe ya better be careful, and mebbe ya better not waster yer time.  Done be done.  I'm sorry fer yer kids an' all, but done be done.  And ain't no way I go back to Buldon."


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 7, 2003)

As Ivar listens to what the disgraced guard has to say, he looks around the table at his companions to see if they have the same thought he does.  This has something to do with why they're here...


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## Snipehunt (Oct 8, 2003)

McDonough bids farewell, and wanders drunkenly out the door.  You feel concern for a few moments over such a person wandering the night alone, especially after the stories you have heard of the dangers in the darkness.  But he is a native, and must know what he is doing.

The Sleeping Cat slowly empties of patrons, until only your group and a very tired-looking Blue Eye are left.  Blue Eye sits on one of the bar stools, back to the party, his head occasionally nodding and then snapping up.

Eventually, we walks over and asks if you want the rooms.  He sets two large iron keys on the table, and says they go to the two rooms with open doors above.  He expects to be paid in the morning.  He then pulls out a small sack, puts all of the day's coins in it, and uses it as a pillow on a small cot he pulls from behind the bar.  You soon hear snores.

OOC - and it's up to you.  Sleep, or explore the night, or surprise me.


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## Jarval (Oct 9, 2003)

"I think perhaps the good McDonough may have given us our first pointer in our search."  Horatio drums his fingers on his chin reflectively.  "In the morrow, we should start our investigation, but for now I feel little inclined to brave the night, having been so strongly warned against it."

"Aye, I'm with you there."  Osric agrees.  "I need some sleep, and we'll do no good blundering around in the dark."

"Right, how are we splitting the rooms?  We've got two between the..."  Horatio pauses to do a quick head count.  "...seven of us, so it'll be three-four.  I would suggest we offer the Lady Aesa one of the beds, and the less crowded room if she so wishes."


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## Mithreander (Oct 10, 2003)

Baldor, watches the drunkard leave, stands up "If'n it's alright with the rest of ya, I'll just make sure that youngin makes it home a'right." With that, and a thanks to the barkeep for the excellent ale, and good food (though the taste of fish is not his favorite), he promises to be back as soon as his task is done. 

With his hammer in hand, shield on arm, he moves out of the inn yelling "Ho, lad! How about some company!"


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 11, 2003)

"Ivar tired," says the half-orc as he stumbles up the stairs towards the rooms.  "Go to bed now.  Goodnight, new friends."  And with that, he vanishes out of sight.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 11, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Aesa blushes at the comments, “ So now I’m a lady huh?  I don’t seem to remember any royal blood in my lineage and that means you shouldn’t treat me any different than anyone else at this table, okay?”  She smiles broadly before finishing her thoughts, “but I thank you anyways.” 

Drevan turns to look at everyone seeing if anyone really cares about how the rooms are divided.  Upon not really seeing to many opinions are forming on the subject, “How about the two brothers, Aesa, and me take a room and the rest of you take the others.  I figure the brothers don’t really want to be divided and Aesa will get scared of the dark if I’m not their to protect her.”  He says the last with much humor creeping into his voice.

Aesa just rolls hers large grey green eyes while stiffing a small laugh, “Sounds good to me but I think you should ask Osric rather or not it’s okay if I sleep in the nude.  I have little doubt that his brother would mind.”   She winks at Horatio before turning to see the horrified look on Drevan’s face.  She starts giggling and then replies, “I guess you shouldn’t tease me, huh?” Her mouth forms a huge smile as she leans back in her chair gloating in the knowledge that she got Drevan’s goat.

Drevan still unsure how to reply, but knowing that victory is hers, simply states, “I guess not…”


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## Jarval (Oct 12, 2003)

Osric splutters as he chokes on his beer at Aesa's comment.  Horatio pats his brother on the back, grinning widely.

"He's only a simple city lad."  He says in way of explanation, enjoying Osric's discomfort.  Osric quickly stands, face flushed in embarrassment.

"Ah, um, I think Baldor's got a good point."  He calls after the dwarf.  "Wait a moment there, laddy.  I think a breath of air would do me good."

The tavern door slams behind him, and Horatio doubles up with laughter.

"Oh Gods, that was a moment of genius."  He gasps to Aesa after a long burst of laughing.  "I've not seen him go that red since the time Lord Ronald's daughter tried to flirt with him."  Wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye, he straightens up, still chuckling slightly.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 12, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Aesa looks worried by the quick departure of Osric and the enjoyment she had felt from getting Drevan quickly turns to shame, “Horatio, I wasn’t trying to embarrass your brother…” She hesitates uncertain on rather or not she should go after him, but finally she starts to stand up only to find a gauntleted hand upon her shoulder, "It's better to let the lad get over his embarrassment in his own time than to let the source of the embarrassment chase after him."  Upon finishing his words of wisdom Drevan pushes gently upon her slender shoulder helping her to realize his wisdom.  With an audible sigh the pretty redhead sinks back into the seat and speaks with much sympathy when she address Horatio, “I’m really sorry for your brother…  I will of course apologize to him when he comes back tonight.  I apologize to you also, Horatio, I come from icy wastelands of southern Ansalon, which are perpetually covered in snow and ice so we are always bundled up in furs and layered clothing.  This has lead to a desire to do without when the weather is nice or more often in doors...  Sometimes I forget that not everyone is as backwards as us and I again apologize for my backwardness.”  She drops her eyes quietly ashamed of her behavior.


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## Jarval (Oct 12, 2003)

"Oh, I wouldn't worry."  Horatio flaps his hands in amused exasperation at Aesa's apology.  "Osric will get over his embarrassment soon enough, and I like a good joke as much as the next man.  Besides, it's probably better that none of us walk around alone until we've got a better idea of the lay of the land.  Baldor may yet be glad of my brother's company."

Turning a little more serious, he sits and continues talking.  "I wouldn't call you backwards.  Everyone gets tired of their own environment from time to time.  Gods' know, I've had my fill of the petty intrigues of the nobility before today.

"And Osric isn't really offended, he's just had little experience of dealing with women.  Given that he spends most of his time in the temple or training with Kord's other warriors, he's had little chance.

"Now, onto other matters.  Tell me more of Ansalon.  You say the cold lands lie to the south on your world?  How strange, that is the exact opposite of my own."  He eyes Drevan's armour curiously.  "I would guess you're a member of an order similar to my brother's, am I correct?  Holy Knight is a fine calling.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 13, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan hesitates unsure where to start when describing a world but soon comes up with something, “Ansaslon is a world with few counties and lots of hard ache…  We also seem to be on the verge of the next big war and the powers of good do not always succeed.  The gods have abounded it people in an act that nearly destroyed all when a simple man tried to proclaim himself an equal to my god…  My order failed all of Ansalon that day.  Countless generations passed before the Gods did return and when they did man and women rode dragons into battles that made the very sky burn in fires…”  Drevan hardly seems like the man that started the conversation pulling a drink that had been setting to the side and throwing it down in a single movement.  “Excuse me, but I think I’m going to go to bed now.”   With no other notice he stands and walks from the room to the bedrooms calling over his shoulder, “Don’t stay up to late, we do have work to do tomorrow and we should get an early start.”

	Aesa looks at Horatio with a slightly uncomfortable look upon her face, “Looks like I’ll spend most of my time tonight apologizing…”  She tries to say it with some humor but the smile upon her face looks forced, “He’s not the same man he use to be.  He still is suffering from the loss of his wife and child.  He was before that time quite witty and humorous.  Now he’s dark, oppressive, and humorless with few bright moments.” She sighs and then tries to change the subject with a small smile, “Horatio, please tell me about your world?”


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 13, 2003)

*Ivar*

The stairs creak, and the half-orc - still dressed in his armor - begins walking down them.  "Can't sleep," he says, smiling, walking up to the bar and asking for some more drink.  "Maybe need more ale first."  He looks over towards Horatio and Aesa's table and places his hand on an empty chair.  "May I?" he asks.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 13, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Aesa still feeling slightly uncomfortable over Drevan’s abrupt departure smiles at the large humanoid and motions to the chair, “Please, your from the same world as Horatio correct?


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## Mithreander (Oct 13, 2003)

Baldor, hearing the door open up and Osric run after him, he pauses and smiles at his new companion. "Gald I am to have the company, as I'm sure our friend is!" He calps a friendly smack on the mans back and continues to catch up to the drunkard. "From the little we've heard, it's best not to let this lad travel alone, and now with you here, I won;t have to either on the way back. You have me thanks, lad!"


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## Jarval (Oct 13, 2003)

"To be honest, I've seen little outside of the City.  That said, the City is such a place that a man could live ten lifetimes and not walk every one of it's streets.  Some of a more poetic bent call it 'The Gem of the Flanaess', and I would agree with them.  Which isn't to say the City doesn't have an unpleasant side."  Horatio starts to answer Aesa's question.  He nods a greeting to Ivar as he takes a seat at the table.

"Perhaps Ivar can shed more light on what Oerth is like outside of the walls of Greyhawk.  How about it, my friend?  I'm sure you've seen more of our world than I."

**********

"Aye, well, I needed some air.  The tavern was getting a little warm."  Osric smiles back at Baldor.  He walks in silence beside the dwarf for a few moments, before raising the matter of concern to him and all his companions.

"So, what do you make of all this?  It's odd enough that any of us should have arrived here individually, but I find it strange that the seven of us, pulled from many different worlds, should all appear here at the same time.  I think the being in the dark coach plans us ill."


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 13, 2003)

Ivar nods in answer to Aesa's question, and then in answer to Horatio says, "Not seen much outside of city either.  Born there, live there.  Been to desert south of the city once.  And seen parts of city I'm sure Horatio hasn't."  He says this last with a sheepish grin.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 14, 2003)

*And Now for Something Completely Different . . .*

Conversations slowly dwindle as the night goes on.  Blue-eye eventually pulls up a crude cot and sets down right behind the bar.  The party takes the subtle hint that the bar is closed, and settles for the night.  The rest of the night passes uneventfully, even Ivar eventually falling asleep.  

Early the next morning, as the party wakes and begins to put on armor and places sharp pointy things at various places on their bodies, they hear a startling screech, and the shouting of deep male voices.  The Sheriff's deep baritone can be heard barking instructions, although no one can quite make out what is being said.  Several sharp noises, sounding like small claps of thunder, erupt from outside the inn.  A strange hissing noise is heard.

Listen checks for everyone, and actions, please.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 14, 2003)

OOC: Listen=22

And I'll peek out a window - nonchalantly, of course, like I'm just passing by.


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## Jarval (Oct 14, 2003)

Horatio's Listen check: 14
Osric's Listen check: 15

"Who else thinks that sounds like trouble?"  Osric mutters gloomily, moving towards the window to look out.

"It does sound rather like those thunder-staffs the guards carry, doesn't it?"  Horatio settles his mithril shirt little more comfortably, and the armor shimmers for a moment, before apparently turning into a silk shirt.  He ties his cloak firmly, then joins his brother at the window.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 14, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Aesa Frostdancer: 8 
Sir Drevan: 19 

Saying nothing from the previous evening Drevan wakes up and gets ready to start tracking the black carriage from last night...  His thoughts are interrupted by the strange sound he joins the two brothers as they gather by the window.

Aesa, who's normal routine is to sing a greeting to the sun, and the morning in general lays in bed still wondering what possessed her last night to drink so much.  She's yet to get ready for the day, her red hair though tied in braids from yesterday’s travel has seen better day and more than a few hairs stick out the sides.  She stands and joins the congregation, hoping that no one will look at her in her disarray.  She will force a smile upon her face that she does not feel if someone looks at her.









*OOC:*


I did my rolls backwards and I think Drevan passed one!   I would have thought it would have been Drevan with the hangover but at least we know that Aesa is a lightweight.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 14, 2003)

Jarval sees several guardsmen running back and forth, occasionally stopping to fire.  Monat is directing them, pointing with a rapier in one hand, and firing a pistol in the other.  Jarval gets a glimpse of the tale of a gigantic snake, at least 1.5 feet in diameter, colored with allternating bands of black, white, and red.

Everybody who rolled 15+ hears a low hissing noise from outside.  It sounds like a giant snake, except that they can almost pick out oddly-pronounced words in the common toungue.  Monat shouts out, "At the devil, you fools!  Keep firing!"

I'm ruling that those who haven't posted are still asleep.


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## Jarval (Oct 15, 2003)

"Maybe we can earn our keep after all."  Osric grabs his greatsword and dashes down the stairs.

"Oh bother..."  Horatio quickly buckles on his sword-belt, and follows in his brother's wake.  "Are you joining us?"  He asks Drevan as pauses in the bedroom's doorway.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 15, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Drevan quickly does the same with his belt thankful that he had been up early today and was almost already dressed, “Right behind you!”  Turning to address the rather unprepared Aesa while she wipes the sleep from her eyes,  “Wake the others, grab your bow, but please stay back from the action.”  He turns and fallows the brothers while Aesa does as he asks grabing her bow and quiver while moving to the other room.  She pounds upon the door hoping to wake the other quickly while yelling, “It’s Aesa we are needed in the town at once!”


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 15, 2003)

Ivar hurriedly girds on his armor and weapons which he cast aside the night before, and after cracking his knuckles once throws the door to the room open.  He steps into the hall, hand resting on the hilt of his rapier.  The others are not surprised to notice (him being of orcish blood and all) that he looks positively eager at the prospect of a fight.  Any effects from the ale consumed last night disappear as he emerges.


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Oct 16, 2003)

Only at the sound of the others running around in a panic to get their things together, does Karthak awake.  Last nights drink must have done more than he thought, since he usually wakes earlier than most.  In such a strange place, he does not want to be unprepared, so he takes the time to don his armor and all of his gear.  Once ready he charges out the door to join the others.   Advancing forward in search of his foe, Karthak loudly bellows out,  _“Hachu Fwegu!!!”_  which sounds like some form of dwarven.  Instanly, the head of his great axe bursts into flames.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 16, 2003)

*Aesa Frostdancer: (Female/Human/Ranger/Bard)*

After hearing frantic movement from the other side of the door Aesa hurries to catch up to the earlier group.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 17, 2003)

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|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |m| | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|

square=5’
f=forest               H=Horatio
w=water (river)        O=Osric
t=tavern               I=Ivar
d=door                 D=Drevan
s=soldier              A=Aesa
m=Monat                B=Baldor
V=monster (10’)        K=Karthak
```

The Map.  The snake-like monster is behind the Cat from the party, although you know basically where it is, as well as where the soldiers and Monat are.  The 1 and 2 are dead soldiers. Let's roll initiative, but for the first round, actions will happen in the order of posting (to keep things moving along).


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## Jarval (Oct 17, 2003)

Osric's Initiative: 6.
Horatio's Initiative: 12.

Horatio and Osric round the corner of the tavern, and nod to each other, their movements well practiced as they move towards the battle.

Sword at the ready, Osric charges for the snake-beast, covering ground surprisingly fast for a man covered in fifty pounds of steel.  He yells a cry to Kord, eager to shed this creature's blood.  (If he manages to close the distance this round: To Hit: 16, Damage: 16.)

Taking a rather more considered approach to battle, Horatio moves swiftly, circling around behinds the guards, aiming to gain a flanking position with his brother.  As he nears the guardsmen, an old elven tune springs to his mind, and he starts to sing the tale of Andwin Longthorn, a dragon-slayer of old myth.  (Or, in game terms, Inspire Courage +2.)


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 18, 2003)

Ivar runs alongside the building, pausing at the corner and cautiously looking towards the snake-beast, formulating a plan in his mind.

Initiative=24


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Oct 18, 2003)

Karthak rounds the building and charges straight at the giant snake swinging his axe with great skill. 

OOC:
 Initiative 15 + 2 DEX Bonus = 17 

 To Hit Roll 19  +16*BAB* = Total To Hit Roll = 35
POSSIBLE CRIT!!! (Improved Crit Feat w/ Greataxe) 
*Melee Attack Bonus w/ +1 Greataxe: +16/+11*
I am assuming that I will only get to attack once due to the distance I have to cover.  If I am wrong, I will roll for the second attack. Just let me know.

Crit Roll 5  +16 = Total Crit Roll = 21

If this is not a critical hit then this will be the damage:
 d12 Greataxe Damage Roll #1 = 6  
 d6 Fire Damage Roll #1 = 1
 d4 Dirty Fighting Feat Roll #1 = 4 
Total Damage 6+1+4+9= 20 Total Damage +1 if Magic Weapon Bonus is added to damage then Total = 21

If this is a critical hit then ug...here we go.  Took me a while to get all the rolls and make it look somewhat pretty and easy to read here.
I do not know if I get to add the dirty fighting feat and fire damage multiple times.  I rolled it all just in case.  If you want to change the damage, I broke it down so should be easy to figure.  Anyway...

 Greataxe Damage Roll #2 = 2 
 Greataxe Damage Roll #3 = 11 
 Fire Damage Roll #2 = 5 
 Fire Damage Roll #3 = 6  
 Dirty Fighting Feat Roll#2 = 2 
 Dirty Fighting Feat Roll#3 = 1 
Total Damage with all of these rolls is  65 Total  +3 if Magic Weapon Bonus is added to damage Total 68
Damage with 3 Greataxe Base Damage Rolls w/ standard damage bonuses(+9) and only the first roll for Fire Damage & Dirty Fighting Feat is 51Total  +3 if Magic Weapon Bonus is added to damage Total 54

I couldnt remember if  a +1 weapon adds to the damage.  If it does, then add +1 to the damage if its a non-critical hit and +3 if it is a critical hit.
I hope I can get close enough to even attack on this round...if not, then ...well...nevermind.   Unless of course I can use this for next round. 

If I screwed anything up here, sorry,  had a bunch of rolls and hyperlinks to get me all confused.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 18, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4)*

Drevan’s Initiative: 5 

Drevan joins the brothers as he runs towards the snake like beast.  When the brothers split up he fallows Osric figuring the other brother will need room to operate.  To all within earshot he will shout, “Keep the beast away from the people of the village!”


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 18, 2003)

*Aesa Frostdancer: (Female/Human/Ranger/Bard)*

Aesa's Initiative?: Web roll not working...   (Snipehunt can roll if he wants too) 

Aesa still in somewhat dissemblance of dress fallows quickly to catch up and when she reaches the tavern wall she will fan out to the side of it to allow other a place to run by her more easily and to also get a better angle on the best.  Once set she’ll bring her bow to bear upon the beast.









*OOC:*


My people should be back together next round, or do you want all actions by initiative?


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## Mithreander (Oct 21, 2003)

```
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
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|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | |D|t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | | |A|t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | |I| |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | | |x|d|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | |H|x|d|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | |K|O|t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | |V|V| | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | |x|t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | |V|V| | | | | |s| | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |x|x|x|x|B| | | | | | | |1| | | | |s| | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |2| | | | | |s| | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | | | | |w| 
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |m| | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|

square=5’
f=forest               H=Horatio
w=water (river)        O=Osric
t=tavern               I=Ivar
d=door                 D=Drevan
s=soldier              A=Aesa
m=Monat                B=Baldor
V=monster (10’)        K=Karthak
```

initiative: 7

Baldor, hearing the comotion, and knowing trouble when he hears it moves tourds the trouble, weapon and shield at a ready. Not getting as close as he would like to throw his hammer, Baldor waits for a better opertunity.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 21, 2003)

*Round 1*

Ivar runs to the corner of the building, and calmly appraises the situation, but . . .

Karthak, with a vastly different temperament, charges forward to the belly of the beast.  However, it is too far for him to strike this round (Use that as your first attack nest round, unless . . .

Aesa (Init. 14) runs around the corner of the buildling, and takes position with her bow, ready to fire except . . .

Horatio begins to sing, summoning courage and strength with a well-known (in his land) ballad of a dragon slayer who, against impossible odds, destroyed a great red wyrm terrorizing the lands.  However, in the middle of a line describing the dragon as "Old as the water deep underground/ Dark, dark red as a Moonstar found," he sees the creatures, and . . .

Drevan and Osric charge forward at almost the same instant, inspired to great deeds by Horatio's song.  As they round the corner, however, they . . .

see a monstrous creation.  A huge snake-creature, rings of red, black, and yellow alternating down it's flanks, menaces the soldiers of Thristleton.  A horribly enlarged and misplaced _human head_ sits like a pumpkin atop the neck of the creature, but a head with the slitted, perfectly round eyes of a snake, long, needle-sharp fangs, a long forked tongue, and a shock of bright-red hair falling in long, loose braids down its back.  Rearing, it turns yellow-green eyes at the charging companions. 

As if this were not horrible enough, they see two shriveled arms with perfectly formed _human hands_ jutting from the body.  In a grotesesque parody of human emotion, the hands rub together in what would be nervousness in a human, but must mean something else entirely to this creature.

Then it speaks, in the pathetic, wavering voice of a human child, saying "_Why doesn't anybody place nice with me?_"

This horrific spectacle reaches deep into the soul of everyone; however, the adrenalin of combat overcomes the horror somewhat.  Make a DC12 will save (fear), add the +2 from the song o' courage.


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## Mithreander (Oct 21, 2003)

Will save: 17

Next round, Baldor moves close enough to throw his hammer at the creature, shaking off the fear that he would feel and answers "I'll play with ye, kid. Here, catch!"

Attack (1d20+10): 24
Damage (1d8+6): 13


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## Jarval (Oct 21, 2003)

Horatio's Will Save: 17
Osric's Will Save: 17

Horatio maintains his song, his voice wavering for only a moment as he first sights the abomination in front of him.  Drawing his rapier, he continues his plan to flank the creature, striding confidently towards a better position.

Osric, like his brother, is briefly shocked by the creature's foul appearance, but his honed warrior's nerves carry him on.  Closing with the beast, he slashes with all the force he can muster, hoping to end this fight as quickly as possible.

(Osric's attack roll: 28 (natural 19, Critical threat), Critical confirmation: 23, Damage: 11 (+10 if a critical hit).)


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## Thrarn Iranorn (Oct 22, 2003)

Will Save 14 + 6 Bonus = 20 

Karthak seems unfazed by the beasts hideous appearance.  Nothing could be more ugly than the hag that took his son.  Charging forward he swings his axe in an attempt to end this havoc now.


OOC: If you want me to make a different attack roll and not use the one I posted before, let me know.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Oct 23, 2003)

Will Save: 18

Ivar snarls at the hideousness of the apparition before them, yet at the same time is caught momentarily off-guard by its seeming innocence...


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 23, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*

Sir Drevan Will Save: 10 
Aesa Will Save: 16

Aesa attack: 12 I doubt I need damage but: 7 









*OOC:*


I still hate this dice rolling program and the links needed for it, but I'm having a better day in general today.  If you have no issues with rolling real dice for me I have no issues with that.


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## Mithreander (Oct 27, 2003)

Blador watches in slow mation, as the hammer flies head over head. 

This ussually happened in the middle of battle, everything slowing down. It marked an expert warrior, so he was told, but he had seen other warriors who exceeded his skill and upon talking to them had found that they had not experienced it. Sure Baldor had seen and experienced this fananima before, but not to this extreme. Each heart beat seemed to be minutes, even hours apart. His body could not move fast enough for his mind. 

It was boggling.


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## Snipehunt (Oct 29, 2003)

Sorry, folks - lots going on at home this week.    

OK, everyone except for Sir Drevan feels a slight chill of fear shiver down their spine as they see the hideous apparation.  Fear reaches into each nerve in Drevan's body.  Running continuously through his mind is the sudden realization that this horrific creature is _human_ after all, some awful combination of man and snake.  He suffers from fear for the next 8 rounds - unless he's immune to fear effects (I can't remember and will check).

I'll update the map and see where everybody is, and run through the actions


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## Snipehunt (Oct 29, 2003)

|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
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|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | |I| | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | | | |d|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
| | | | | | | | |d|t|t|t|t|t| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | | |V|V| | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | |t|t|t|t|t|t| | | |O|V|V| | | | | |s| | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | |B| | | | |K| |1| | | | |s| | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | |A| | | | | |H|2| | | | | |s| | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | | | | |w| 
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | |D| | | |s| | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |s| | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |m| | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|
|f|f|f|f| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |w|

square=5’
f=forest               H=Horatio
w=water (river)        O=Osric
t=tavern               I=Ivar
d=door                 D=Drevan
s=soldier              A=Aesa
m=Monat                B=Baldor
V=monster (10’)        K=Karthak[/code]


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## Snipehunt (Oct 29, 2003)

OK, I'm giong to post a stat block tomorrow, and we'll start round 2.  No one had a chance to attack this round except Aesa, who shot an arrow at the beast as the others closed in, but missed.  Feel free to adjust your location, everyone has another 5' of movement or so.  The monster doesn't have reach, so no worries there.


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## Brother Shatterstone (Oct 29, 2003)

Snipehunt said:
			
		

> He suffers from fear for the next 8 rounds - unless he's immune to fear effects (I can't remember and will check).












*OOC:*


He is not immune to fear...  I should have a +1 on the saving throw that I had missed.  Knightly power, it mattered not at all if I remember right.


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## Snipehunt (Nov 4, 2003)

*Status*


```
Status ( Round 1 )
Character|In|AC|HP|Max|Status
-------------------------------------------
Ivar     |24|18|51|51| 
Karthak  |17|17|79|79|
Aesa     |14|19|83|83|
Horatio  |12|20|40|40|
Snake   |12|??|??|??|
Mithrea  | 7|25|55|55| 
Osric    | 6|20|42|42| 
Drevan   | 5|19|83|83| fear - 7 rounds (-2 to hit/-2 checks/-2 saves)
Guards/Monat
```

I noticed Aesa and Drevan have the sam AC and HP - I didn't double check, but something looks off to me.  Could you check?


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## Brother Shatterstone (Nov 4, 2003)

Snipehunt said:
			
		

> I noticed Aesa and Drevan have the sam AC and HP - I didn't double check, but something looks off to me.  Could you check?



Those are Drevan’s.  I used the same template and most have missed a step.  I’ll fix Aesa's when I get home tonight.

For my actions: Aesa will take shots with her bow from were she is now.  Drevan I believe gets to do nothing, as he is immobile with fear… correct?


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## Snipehunt (Nov 5, 2003)

Good enough.  Embarassed I didn't notice before.  Drevan can take partial actions, with basically -2's.  

Ivar is up!


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## Andrew D. Gable (Nov 5, 2003)

"Raagh!"  With an orcish war cry, Ivar rushes out from behind the inn, sword held high, running at the snake.

Attack: 22, assuming of course I get there.
Damage: 11, assuming once more that I hit.


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## Snipehunt (Nov 6, 2003)

OoC - Ivar can charge, and make it.  He gets sneak attack damage b/c he is on teh opposite side of the beast from Karthak.  However, although your PC doesn't know exactly what is going on, the creature has displacement, and you have a 50% miss chance.  1-50=miss.


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## Andrew D. Gable (Nov 7, 2003)

Ack! 23


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## Mithreander (Nov 7, 2003)

Blador (who was not included in the lineup) moves closer to the thing and launches his hammer once more.


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## Snipehunt (Nov 9, 2003)

Ivar rushes forward.  His training and skill in skulking the dark alleys of Greyhawk make him strangely silent despite abandoning all pretense at stealth.  Taking advantage of the warriors charging from the other side of the inn, Ivar slows down as he approaches.  When the monster appears distracted by the fierce warriors in front of it, he stabs at the thick, slimy tail with his rapier.  To his dismay, his rapier seems to go right through the creature as if it was made of mist, and he feels his blade pierce the grass and the thick, rich dirt below.  As he pulls his rapier out, he feels a huge mass knock against his blade.  At the same time, he sees the beast's tail slithering to the left on the grass.  Ivar slowly realizes that the beast is actually several inches to the right of what he actually sees.  

Ivar makes a mental note to aim to the right of what he sees, and hopes for the best.

From the side of the Inn, Baldor's hammer flies through the air, slugging the snake-creature in the head. 

OoC - sorry, I ahve Baldor listed as Mithreandar.


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## Mithreander (Nov 10, 2003)

*OOC:*


Mithrea! Ha, should have known! Cheers, and sorry for rising a stink!


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## Jarval (Nov 10, 2003)

*OOC:* What should I be doing?  Do Horatio and Osric's actions take effect later in this round, or are you waiting on me to post?


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## Brother Shatterstone (Nov 11, 2003)

*Sir Drevan Whiteshield: (Male/Human/Fighter 4/Knight of the Crown 4) and Cohort*









*OOC:*


Aesa's HP have been fixed and she has 48 HP, Drevan will advance at the best of his ability to engage in combat.  Aesa's still going to stand and shot from where she is right now.


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## Snipehunt (Nov 13, 2003)

Actually, I'm being more obscure than normal.  I'm waiting for Karthak's miss chance from teh displacement.  Guess I *could* have actually asked for it.    

Then the other actions will take place.


----------

