# Beginner's Luck



## Jarik (Nov 3, 2006)

OOC: This being the Chronicles of my Gameing Group in the Homebrew World of Langton.  Beginning at level 1 the PCs, Rellen Horatio Marn Paladin of Heronious,  Sorriel Larkstongue, a Bard,  Kleethorpes the Magnificent, a venerable Wizard, and Moan Moriden a Rogue.
            The PCs have become at least passingly aquainted upon the long sea trip between Kilmar and the Northerly Island of Berrick.
            This post will likely be edited due to the late hour of posting, and my resultant addled state.

Beginner's Luck

	Rellen Horatio Marn, Paladin of Heronious, stared out over the vast expanse of ocean before him.  He was not entirely sure what had compelled him to buy passage aboard the Rapier Wit, he needed time to think, time to collect himself.  The Paladin cut a proud figure, even in his despondency, tall, broad shouldered, and leanly muscular, with a powerful chin soft blue eyes and a mane of sandy blond hair.  He stood at the prow of the Rapier Wit, watching as the sunset beneath the horizon his head bowed in disarmingly sincere prayer.

	“Gods look at him, ready for a bleedin' ball.”  Moan remarked nudging his companion and nodding towards the Paladin.  The same could not be said for Moan, a small balding fellow dressed in the same set of feculant leathers which had adorned his pudgy frame upon boarding the Rapier Wit three weeks previously in Kilmar, a fact of which his companion was acutely aware.

	“Nothing wrong with personal hygiene Moan, you might want to take a leaf out of the God botherer's book.  There's a reason I am standing down wind of you.”

	“Pah! Just you wait Sorriel luv, get a few years under that belt of yours and you'll come to appreciate a manly wreak like mine.”

	“And on that day Moan I ask that you find a Cleric to restore my sanity, or at very least my nasal faculties.”

	“Ha, I'll restore your faculties alright you strumpet.”

	“Do you even know what you mean by that remark?”

	“Nah, but I bet ya five shiners I'll have fun findin' out.”

	“Don't count on it.” Sorriel found herself drawn to the Paladin, Rellen, he was polite to a fault, witty – when he was not paying too much attention to his tongue – and immaculately handsome.  He also had a capacity for the dramatic which she could not fail to appreciate, there was a song in Rellen Horatio Marn, and she would be the one to sing it.

	“You realize you're staring at him again, don't go all Bard on me again Sorriel luv.  Why waste your god given potential as a thief?”

	“You can't steal a song Moan.”

	“Well no you've got me there, but I can steal gold, and gold can pay for a whole mess of songs.”

	“You Moan, are beyond redemption.”

	The little man grinned proudly, “Dang straight!”

	Sorriel chuckled despite herself, she had come to find Moan's malodorous presence something of a comfort during the seemingly endless voyage, and he did at least appreciate her songs whilst leering at her.  “Well I am going to hit the hammock – that's not an invitation – try not to get into too much trouble okay.”

	“Pah, even a man of my ingenuity is hard pressed to find fun on this tub full of dullards.”

	“I didn't hear a yes there Moan.”  Sorriel said exasperatedly.

	The thief grinned broadly.

	“Honestly I don't know why I bother, have a good night Moan.”  So saying Sorriel made her way below decks, taking a last lingering glance at the Paladin's melancholy vigil.

	Moonlight now danced across the water as the Rapier Wit cut its way through the gentile waves.  The night watch hurried to their positions, and Captain Smillov emerged from his cabin to survey the decks from beneath the brim of his jauntily positioned wide brimmed hat.  Rellen clutched his cloak around him, thankful of the protection it afforded him from the chill of the northern winds and absent mindedly kissed the cool silver of his holy symbol.

	“Bet that's not what you'd want to be kissin' if you weren't a celebrate, hey fancy pants.”

	The Rellen turned, and smiled down at the poor unfortunate fellow, reminding himself that kindness and patience were due those who Heronious had seen fit to challenge int his life.  “I am not chaste Master Moriden, I merely give myself up to a greater and more fulfilling purpose.”

	“Pah, I'd rather full fill a nice...”  Moan had no idea where the Paladin had managed to discover his last name, it had been more than a decade since he had heard it spoken and its use irked him greatly.

	“Not long now before we reach Berick, by midday the Captain tells me!”  Rellen interrupted hurriedly, feeling the heat in his cheeks.

	“Now come on Paladin, your not supposed to lie – am I right?”

	“Indeed for my code prohibits the uttering of an intentional falsehood....”

	“S' lovely, s' lovely.  Anyway, so can you honestly tell me you've never entertained the thought of entertaining that fine filly of a Bard with your holy sword?”  Moan managed to accompany this sentence with a lear which would have made a Succubus blush.

	Rellen looked profoundly shocked, “My Sword Sir does the work of Heronious!  I would never permit it to be used for anything so cheap and base as entertainment!”

	Moan sighed, innuendo had proven ineffective against the Paladin before, it seemed the young lad had lead a rather sheltered life.  Still subtlety was not the be all and end all of his extensive repertoire, “Okay, what do you think of Sorriel then Captain Clean?”

	“You realize Master Moriden that I would be more than happy to give you some of my soap... As for Miss Larkstongue, why of course she is lovely, and I pray daily for her safety alongside your own, that of the crew, and the gracious Captain.

	“Pah! But d' you like her like a man likes a woman?”

	“I respect and admire all of ....”

	“Pah, Paladin's!”  Moan muttered storming away, and stamping down below deck.

	Rellen's eyes glimmered for a moment, and he bit his lip stifling an snig ger, which would have been highly undignified.

	Besides Sorriel's hammock the Wizard Kleethorpes starred intently at the yellowed pages of his spell book, lamenting – not for the first time – its meager contents.  At his age most respectable Mages were capable of feats of mind boggling power, not so Kleethorpes the Magnificent.  Of course he could never regret Marrying Lily, they had been blessed with forty wonderful years together, nearly a dozen offspring, and a veritable legion of Grandchildren.  However, he could never remain content in the role of doddering Grandfather, and his hazily remembered arcane trainings had seemed the perfect escape.  He recalled his former Master, the Wizard Hoon telling him that travel and exposure to danger provided a route to swifter magical advancement; that and a whim had seen him buy passage aboard the Rapier Wit.


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## Jarik (Nov 6, 2006)

OOC: Its not much, but...


	“How goes the study?”  Sorriel asked approaching with that consciously feminine swagger which stirred even Kleethrope's withered nethers.

	“Oh as usual dumpling, mind boggling secrets of transcendence ever fail to elude my feeble grasp.”  With a sigh he closed his spell book, wrapping it tenderly in oilcloth before sealing it in a leather case.  His brow furrowed, “Sorriel dear, I don't suppose you have any idea where I put my quill?  I swear the blasted thing has a mind of its own, though I wouldn't put it past Stoatly to try an old man's patience....”  

	Sorriel smiled, she rather liked Kleethorpes, an amiable if slightly addled old fellow, though she suspected he played up his eccentricities to earn her attention.  She lent down and plucked the quill from his bushy white beard handing it to him with a wink.

	“By the Gods! How did it get there!  Come here you cowardly weasel, was this your doing?  I'll have no more of these shenanigans!  If I find out this was your doing Stoatly that'll be it, no more brunch for you!  You'll be on three meals a day!”  The Wizard's beard parted revealing a sleek brown weasel – the aforementioned Stoatly – who yawned hugely, gave his Master a wounded look and leapt onto Sorriel's shoulder.

	“Quite the little operator, this fellow.” Sorriel chuckled, scratching Stoatly's chin, as the weasel rubbed up against her neck.  “I doubt it was Stoatly Kleethorpes, you did put it there yesterday, and the day before that, and well, you do it quite frequently.”

	“Hmmm, well if you say so dear.  The old memory's not quite what it once was, why I was telling Lily only yesterday.....  Oh, well, oh....”  Kleethorpes voice trailed away to nothing, and he seemed to shrink, his gray eyes sparkling with moisture.  Stoatly sprang back to his Master's shoulder and began to nibble affectionately upon an earlobe, and Kleethorpes' gnarled hand was soon rubbing absent mindedly over his soft coat.  The old Wizard swallowed, and smiled sadly, “I'm sorry Sorriel dear, I just, sometimes I forget she's not with me anymore – she was a wonderful woman my Lily, she would have liked you, very much.”

	“I'm sorry Klee. Why don't we get you to bed, you'll feel better after a good nights sleep, we should be in Berrick tomorrow, so that's something to look forward to.”

	“What? Oh, yes, yes, of course your right Sorriel dear.  No more fish for us after tomorrow hey?  I'm plum tired of the scaly blighters, give me a good slice of bacon any day.”  Kleethorpes graciously allowed Sorriel to help him into his hammock, surreptitiously wiping his eyes.  “Sleep well dear, your a nice young girl, and if that young man doesn't reciprocate your affection you send him to me, I'll set him straight!”

	“Is it that obvious Klee?”  Sorriel moaned, flushing, whilst covering up the old wizard with his blanket. Stoatly nestled contentedly into his beard.

	Kleethorpes yawned, his eyes half closed, “Don't you worry dear, he's not got a clue, nice lad but couldn't take a hint if it was gift wrapped.”  With that Kleethorpes' eyes closed and he began to snore gentilely.

	Sorriel kissed him on the forehead, before retiring to her own hammock, her mind wandering – embarrassingly quickly – to Rellen's guileless smile.

	Moan having departed, presumably headed for his hammock, Rellen surveyed the deck, nodding warmly to Captain Smillov.  The Captain nodded in return and approached, 

	“Eager to be done with this voyage I would warrant Master Marn.”  He said, smiling that peculiarly infectious smile of his.

	“It has been as smooth a voyage as I could ask for Captain, but I must admit I'll be glad to have solid ground beneath my feet again.”

	“No harm in that my friend, its not every man who's cut out to be a sailor.  So where to from here, if you will excuse my curiosity?”

	“I would be happy to tell you Captain, but I'm not sure myself.  Heronious will watch over me, and test me as he sees fit.”

	“Faith is a fine thing Rellen, but don't let it swallow you, remember you are still a man.  There are things besides gods in this world, and even Heronious wouldn't begrudge you a little fun.”

	“I'm not sure I follow you Captain.”

	“You must know by now that Sorriel has an eye on you boy.  She's practically throwing herself at you.”

	“Now see here Captain! I will not have you besmirching Miss Larkstongue's good name with your baseless vulgarities.”

	“Have it your way Master Marn, but I for one say never look a gift horse in the mouth.”  So saying Smillov turned and walked back to his cabin, chuckling.

	Rellen watched him go regretfully, wishing he could have asked the Captain's advice.  He would never admit it, but few things terrified him more than a pretty girl, and Sorriel was more than pretty.  Prayer soothed him somewhat, and thus fortified he made his way back to the hold and his hammock.

***

	The Rapier Wit arrived in Berrick slightly ahead of schedule, a good tail wind having aided her progress through the night.  The Wit's four passengers bid her crew farewell, gathered their meager possessions and made their way across the gang plank onto Berrick's bustling dock.


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## pizzaboy_15 (Nov 14, 2006)

Very good.  It's like a novel.  The characters are well written and i feel very eased into the story.  I wouldn't mind some more though...
*nudge nudge*


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## Gold Roger (Nov 14, 2006)

The characters and writing are certainly compelling. Bring on the adventure I say.


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## pizzaboy_15 (Nov 21, 2006)

Dudes your getting a fan base!
Rock on!


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## Jarik (Nov 22, 2006)

Oh thanks for the encouragement guys.  The campaign is in full swing now and we have run several marathon sessions.  I really have a lot to catch up on.  Some wonderful moments to, Kleethorpes' player has made the entire group blubb on more than one occassion, and the rest of the group have been equally fantastic.

Expect another installment tonight, and thanks again for your kind words.


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## Jarik (Nov 22, 2006)

The first thing to greet them was a young boy, wearing a chalk sign board emblazoned with the words “Heward's Handy Haversack: For all your needs magical 'n' mundane”.  The young man wore an expression of consummate boredom and rolled his eyes as the group approached.

	“Welcome to Berrick, please stop by Heward's Handy Haversack, where the customer comes first..” the boy droned listlessly.

	“Gah! Roald, if I have told you once I have told you a thousand times.  Enthusiasm! Enthusiasm!” A large gentlemen cried, hurrying across the dock in a garish fur trimmed ensemble, complete with a ludicrous ruff collar.  “Gentlemen, my Lady, permit me to introduce your humble servant Joss Hooper, proprietor of Heward's Handy Haversack.”  Reaching the group he placed a hand upon Roald's shoulder and took several deep breaths, “You will have to forgive young Roald here, he's a good lad, but not much of a people person.  Isn't that right lad?”

	 Roald shrugged, and as Joss's attention turned back to the group puffed out his cheeks making a near perfect impression of his portly employer's eager red cheeked visage.

	Moan sed, his eyes dancing from the boy, to Joss's bulging coin purse, to a pair of cufflings with the gold peeling away.

	“So what exactly are ye' sellin' Jossy?  We've been at sea for long enough that me chief concerns are wine, women, and, well, more women.  This ones a tease” he pointed a finger at Sorriel, “'n' I need a lady who's sellin' what she's advertising!  Plus me pal Captain Clean here's gonna explode if he doesn't get religious.  Bet there're loads of lucky ladies here hurtin'n for a convertin', hey big fella?”

	Rellen's brow furrowed, and Sorriel masked a fit of giggles with a cough.

	Joss blinked, starring at the small man's grotesquely suggestive leer in appalled silence for a second, before managing, “Well there is the Screamin' Pilchard, Irene runs a great place with reasonable rates, and I think she might have a girl or two willing to, erm, well, you know, ah ha, hmm?”

	Sorriel stepped in, giving Moan a kick in the shin as she brushed past him, taking the Shopkeeper by the shoulder, and pulling him with her as she strode towards the shoddy wooden buildings.

	“Allow me to introduce myself Master Hooper, I am Sorriel Larkstongue, singer of songs, teller of tales, wanderer and poet.  That is Kleethorpes the Magnificent, a great an powerful Wizard.  This is Rellen Horatio Marn, Paladin of Heronious, he of the shiniest armor.  Oh, and this is Moan.  My companions and I have been regrettably short of news on our journey, would you be willing to regail us with the local news?  Perhaps as we look over your wares?”

	Joss beamed, watching Sorriel with dewy eyed adoration. “Well of course my dear! Delighted to fill you in on the local doings!”

	Kleethorpes nudged Rellen in the ribs, “Remarkable girl that one, if I were fifty years younger... Well to be perfectly honest I would be stammering like an idiot and drooling, but you take my meaning.”  The old mage cackled, before scurrying after Sorriel.

	“Aye come on Ladykiller, you ain't gonna abandon us poor wee defenseless folks are you?”  Moan asked, flashing a gap toothed grin at the Paladin.

	“Well no of course I could not allow Miss Larkstongue to go unaccompanied in such an unsavory locale.”

	“Ha, with any luck I'll be unaccompanied in an unsavory local before night fall.”

	“Pardon?”

	“He he, don't mind me, I'm a corrupti'n influence.”

	“Heronious accepts all who repent Master Moridin, even if your life thus far has fallen short of the ideal there is always time to start over.”

	“Oh I'll start over alright.”

	“Wonderful,”  Rellen unslung his back pack and withdrew a wooden holy symbol depicting two crossed lightening bolts each held by a gloved hand, “here Master Moridin, Heronious embodies the highest virtues, valor, loyalty, honor...”

	“Ahhh, no thanks Pally, I've already got three.”

	Rellen's eyebrows quirked and he glanced down into his backpack.  When he looked up Moan was already past Kleethorpes, his stumpy legs propelling him at a surprising speed.  Gritting his teeth Rellen, slung his pack over his shoulder and followed.  “A soul redeemed is worth a thousand trials.”  He muttered – he did not sound particularly convinced.

	Heward's Handy Haversack occupied pride and place in the center of Berrick's meager shopping district, and turned out to be far better cared for than any of the other buildings the group had seen in the port.  Joss ushered them inside, revealing row after row of common household items, pots and pans, rope, nets, and at the back of the store behind a solid oak counter weapon racks, and a glass case filled with jewelery and gemstones.

	A Dwarf watched them from over the counter, his attention clearly focused upon the scruffy Moan.  “Welcome to Heward's folks, waylaid by Joss fresh off the boat were you?”

	“Away with you Hrolf, these fine folks want to hear the news and take a look at our reasonably priced, high quality wares.”

	Sorriel smiled at Hrolf, who appeared distinctly unimpressed and lifted the counter panel, moving off amongst the shelves.

	“Don't mind Hrolf that's just his way, not exactly a people person if you take my meaning.  Still he's the best assistant I've ever had, poor fella got banished, but I am sure glad of him.”  Joss stepped behind the counter and instantly looked more at home, “Ah, so let me see news was it? Hmmm.  Well there's the fishmen, they have been causing a ruckus pilfering from ships and even raiding the goat herds, old Robar's getting some stick for that.”

	“Robar?”  Asked Rellen, who was examining a grappling hook.

	“Robar's what passes for a Priest here in Berrick.  Used to be a fine man, but well, glug, glug, glug, I'll say no more.  Anyway, Robar gets donations for “Fharlanghn” by curing the Captains crews, blessing the winds, and so on; but with all this thieving going on the Captains are feeling less and less religiously inclined.  Word is old Robar is looking for some poor fool to deal with things for him.”

	“What exactly are fishmen?” Sorriel inquired.

	“Oh you know, those Locothah.  We don't usually get them this far north – fishy hey.  Ha ha ha, sorry, sorry, just my little joke.”

	“Ooooh!  How much for this?”  Kleethorpes exclaimed pulling a bizarre mauve pointy hat with a floppy brim out of a bin of clothing and placing it reverently upon his bald head.

	“Ahhh, that would be a Ladies hat Sir.”

	“Nonsense, this hat has elan, flare, majesty!  No, this is no Ladies hat, this is a Wizard's hat, namely Kleethorpes the Magnificent's hat!  How much?”

	“Well five silver pieces, I suppose,” the Shopkeeper appeared a little nonplussed.

	“Never!  That will not do, a Wizard must possess a hat which espouses the dignity of his position!  Such a hat must cost at least five gold coins!”

	At this Joss's eyes lit up.  “Well Master Kleethorpes we do happen to have some suitable hats, costing, as luck would have it five gold pieces, and more in some cases.”

	“Poppycock!  I shall simply pay five gold pieces for this hat.”

	Moan winced, “got any marbles Jossy? Cause I think we're a few short over on this side of the counter.”

	“Pah, you've no sense of style Moan!  Look it even has eldritch stars embroidered upon it!”

	“That is a daffodil you barmy old bird.”

	Kleethorpes frowned, “to those untrained in the arcane arts perhaps.  Anyway I rather like daffodils.”

	Sorriel had taken this time to sidle over to Rellen, “So what are your plans now Rellen?”

	“Oh, well of course I will stay with you Miss Larkstongue.  I cannot allow a defenseless maiden, such as yourself, to travel alone in a place like this.  I am surprised your family allowed you to undertake such a dangerous journey.”

	“Oh, well, that's..... sweet.  You...you....holier than thou god bothering pillock!”  So saying she slapped the astonished Paladin, and stormed out.

	“What did I say?”  Rellen asked, still starring after Sorriel with a clear red hand print visible upon his cheek.

	“Ah, its probably what you didn't say you great dullard,” replied a smug Moan, clutching a pile of goods, worth approximately four and a half gold pieces, that he had managed to get thrown in “free” with Kleethorpes five gold piece hat.

	“But I told her I would protect her...”

	Kleethorpes sighed, placing a paternal hand upon Rellen's shoulder, “Look kiddo, she doesn't need protecting.  I on the other hand, could use the aide of a strapping lad such as yourself, as it happens I am intending to accompany Miss Larkstongue.  Perhaps the three of you could protect me together?”

	Rellen frowned, “I think you are less in need of protection than it would appear,” the Paladin declared, smiling.

	Kleethorpes cackled, “he can be taught. Appearances can be deceiving laddo.”  With that Kleethorpes hurried after Sorriel.

	Moan, and Rellen exchanged glances, “I'd be a mite more impressed if he wasn't wearing the hat of eldritch daffodils.” Moan said.


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## Gold Roger (Nov 25, 2006)

Nice, especially the eldritch daffodils.

You've got a lot of dialogue going on. Do record the sessions or do you fill out the dialogue?


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## Jarik (Nov 26, 2006)

The dialogue is pretty darn close.  I take notes of notable/funny conversations.  I did try recording sessions on my laptop, but sadly microphones and my group result in karaoke/ improv. sessions, we have a theatrical bent..  The Hat of Eldritch Daffodils notes for example read...

Joss tells about Locatah & Robar.  Crap Fishy joke.  Say as joke that ugly hat from Lady in Borders is in pile of clothing.  Mark goes nuts, hat has elan, lol.  Describe fleur de les, Mark - they look like eldritch stars!  Rich -  More like Eldritch daffodils! lol!  Wizards need expensive hats, Moan gets freebies.  Sorriel and Rellen, the virgin strikes again!

I have so much to catch up on now, sadly I do not have a great deal of free time and my writing style is hardly to the point.

Currently we are on session 12 and have just embarked upon the second story arc.  Kleethorpes is serving as a living plot hook, as he is a Grandfather I have plenty of leverage...... "Bwahahahahahahaha har!"  I will try to post the PCs stats sometime next week and will hopefully post the next update tomorrow.  Egads, I am still only halfwat through session one...


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