4e Game Here

For various reasons, all of you are sitting at the same table. You were hired by an unknown benefactor. You know nothing of your job. All you know is there are four of you ( Providing wraith shows up ).

All of you have instructions:

"Eat at ye olde inn! Introduce thineselves. Dine. Then thou shalt know who I am."

"What a load of crap!" all of you joke. "Who is this? A thespian? Nobody speaks like this outside of the stage."

Aaren had been in a lot of establishments like this inn. He'd worked at a few too. He feels right at home, sitting there in a somewhat clean pair of simple brown breeches, a stained, once white cloth shirt, worn high leather boots, and a well-used leather vest. His armor are stored in his room, the only thing marking him as more than just another drifter is the exceedingly well kept battle-axe laying on the table in front of him. His long, unkempt brown hair hangs in his deep brown eyes and halfway down his back, and he looks down at the ale in his mug disinterestedly.

He sighs, and you can't tell if the stench of cheap beer is from his mug, breath, or perhaps his short, ragged beard. The man's form is still strong, though he has a slight paunch in the middle. He would probably stand at a solid six feet if it wasn't for the hunched over way he sat. After a moment, he looks up, announcing in a deep gruff voice, "Name's Aaren. And you bunch?"

Hassaway sipped somewhat unsurely at his drink, and frowned slightly with a wince as the slightly acrid taste washed over his tongue. He set the mug back down on the table and made a mental note to not pick it up again. Thoroughly bored, the young soldier began scratching at the stubble on his jaw line and yawned. If he'd known freelancing was going to be just as boring as guard duty he'd have taken the one with less of a chance of dying.

The scruffy bearded man across from him woke him from the light doze he had slipped into. He shook his head slightly and saluted casually.

"Captain Hassaway Brindle"

Lucian saunders over from the corner of the room. He always feels more comfortable with his back to the wall. A cup of wine in his hand he takes a sip and examines the group cautiously. Lucian does not trust people easily, trust is always earned he believes. But Lucian is not a wealthy man, and he needs the work. "I am Lucian" he says, and takes another sip of wine and joins the table.

Lucian's leather armor looks old and well used. He suspects people think he must have stolen it from some poor soul, although nobody has ever asked. Over top he has a tattered, dirty, musty smelling cloak that's often his only warmth on a cold winters night.

I'll play the female token:

"Hi! My name is Precilla. I'm a centaur," she taps an amulet around her neck, "This is my human feet. So, what are all of your specialties?"

Lucian says "I prefer to remain unseen and unknown. The only time I want an enemy to known I'm there is after my dagger is already in his back!"

Aaren looks around at the gathered group, from one to the next, mumbling about being under dressed. He listens to each introduction, committing the names to his foggy memory. The mention of a Centaur strikes him and causes him to look up abruptly at the female. He'd have never expected such a... exotic creature would be standing right there amongst them. Hearing Lucian's comment would give him another slight start. It reminds him of the kind of folks he used to put away.

"Er... specialities?" he asks, realizing he will also be expected to say something, Aaren looks down at his well kept battle axe, then back to the centaur, "I think I'm already spoken for, though most of my gear is in my room."

Hassaway leaned back from his slouch and used a leather gauntlet to spread his white cloak away from his left breast. His gold Captain badge stood out plainly from his well-kept steel mail.

"I'm a commander. Follow my orders and, together, we can defeat anything."

"Overconfidence leads to an early grave!" Precilla warned, "Though I do enjoy your confidence!" She paused looking at the empty seats, "It seems we have a few more mystery members, as their sealed letters remain on the seats!"

Erik, to the curiosity of some and the bewilderment to others, approaches hesitantly to one of the empty chairs.

"P-please excuse my tardiness, it took me s-some time to find this place," he squeaks out, while nervously gripping his staff. "D-do you mind if I take a seat?" he asks, to a table of silent, staring eyes all the while wondering how the events of the previous twenty-four hours had led up to this.

After receiving a nod from one of the strangers, he takes his seat and reminds himself that it's rude to speak unless spoken too.

"well, OUT WITH IT!" Precilla laughs. "Tell us who you are!"

"Oh! Of course... I do a-apologise," Erik stutters as he moves his chair back slightly and stands up. "Hello everyone!" he continues, "I'm Erik Glor, I umm.. completed my clerical studies a few weeks ago under the approval of Avandra. This is my umm... first job but I promise I will never let you down, else Avandra strike me where I stand!"

Aaren eyes the boy warily for a moment, then shrugs, "First assignment, eh? You look pretty nervous... pray tell what you think we'll be doing?"

Erik looked into Aaron's eyes for a moment then glanced away.

"W-well, umm..." Erik paused for a moment, thinking what to say next, "I'm not quite sure but this was my only option, everyone else has turned me away thus far."

Erik, concerned after this line of questioning, turns his attention towards Precilla and asks "What will we be doing?"

"What you will be doing," a large man announces, as he stands behind one of the seats at the table. You see two heavily guards flanking his shoulders, "...is obtaining a simple scroll for me from a group of goblins outside of town."

He tosses a map onto the table, "One of you cartographers can take that, I don't care which one. The scroll is a history of magic. Don't worry, it in and of itself is non-magical, but it is worth more than your lives. All of which will be forfeit if I don't receive the scrholl in three weeks time. That gives you one week worth of travel, and another two to figure out some way into the mott and bailey those disgusting little creatures have constructed in the foothills! You can keep all other treasure, but don't try to make off with my scroll. Goodday."

As quick as he entered, the man left. You aren't sure about his threat, whether it was idle or sincere. All you are sure of is he wants that scroll badly.

Aaren carefully reached out and plucked up the map, before looking to the others, "Well, it sounds easy enough. I'll need to get the rest of my equipment. If anyone has to get supplies before we go now's the time. I recommend we get started soon.

"I second the recommendation! Look!" Precilla too her seating card, and rubbed her fingers on the edges, then showed them to the rest of the party members, "There's poison on these cards!"

Hassaway stood back from the table they had been sitting at, extremely glad he had gloves on, though the drink he had taken stood out in his mind. If their host was devious enough to use poison on them, he'd be devious enough to know that they may not touch the place cards. The food and drink was no doubt poisoned as well.

"I don't know about you folk, but I know I'm going to find the nearest apothecary or cleric and get cured of any poisons that lowlife may have infected us with. I'm still going on this mission, after all I need the experience, but there's no way I'm dying for it if we fail. I'll see you all by the main gate."

With that, Hassaway left the Inn to find the nearest source of healing he could find.

((Well, actually it wasn't: Rev you out thought me And since you role played it so well, you get +50 exp ^_^ - technically rev is not poisoned, however, this is ooc information so please keep it ooc.))

Rev quickly departs from the group, or so he thinks, as Precilla follows. The local priest of the sun tends to all party members.
"I'm sorry, but this poison is beyond even my magic to detect it!"
It appears your choice is a dead end, unless you choose to complete the party, it may well be a permanent end!

General announcement for this game

I've been giving you guys some time to adjust from holidays and school, but please return at the latest next Wednesday, as I plan to start the actual "Let's leave the town and adventure" portion of the game.

Any other role playing, such as stocking upon materials, please get them.

Just assume your characters know where each other are, and also keep in mind you are all staying in this particular Inn. I'll round you all up next Wednesday for the game!!

Also, it will help if you click "watch this topic" and assign email notification so you guys don't forget

Seeing the others leave off on the poison thing, Aaren just sat there for a moment, before belching loudly and muttering to himself, "Well I don't feel sick." With that, he merely collected his axe, and headed upstairs to his room.

Moving into the room he got for himself earlier that week, Aaren contemplated taking an actual bath as he wandered over to the chest containing his gear. Weighing the money pouch at his side, he quickly decided against the idea, and started pulling out pieces of his plate mail.

*Ten minutes later*

Aaren was decked out from head to toe. The armor was pure steel, shining and polished. The triangular kite shield strapped to his arm was blackened, as though it had been put through immense heat. Holding his helm underneath one hand, he grabbed his axe from where it lay on the bed, and stomped back down stairs, booted feet clanking heavily on the wooden floor.

As he descended the stairs, he wondered what he might look like. His long, unkempt hair draped down the back of his neck, hanging out over the back side of his breastplate, his face was dirty and unshaven, and his breath... well nothing he could do about that.

Precilla entered her bedroom, after the failure of the church. They would be leaving first thing tomorrow morning, and it would be good for her to get some sleep. She would bother with her shower before they left.

Erik, speechless at the events that have just been witnessed, was unsure if he had touched the cards or not. The past 20 minutes had been a complete blur, from approaching the table to sitting there now. He followed the group, as he felt he should, only to hear of the priests (and thus, his own) inability to cure the poison that flowed through the group's veins. On retreating back to the inn he walked solemnly, for now he was beginning to realise that the journey ahead would be no easy ride, and now he had been given no choice but to carry on with this group of people, this group that scared him stiff.

Everyone who has posted in this this thread gains 10 experience points.

Please record it yourself on your character sheets.

From now on I will reward people 10 experience points if they post 1-2 times in a week.

I will reward 20 experience points for 3-8 times in a week.

50 exp for anything above that.

Please no spam. They have to be actual in character actions.

The Halfling had sat on a stool by the bar observing the other likely heroes as they had introduced themselves to each other and were issued a mysterious assignment. He observed them as they went their seperate ways to gather supplies and run other such mundane errands. He observed them as they returned, the armour clad warrior, the confident commander, the suspitious Tiefling, the intriguing Centaur and the nervous cleric.
He finished his drink and retreated to a private booth. While drawing the curtain across to shield him from the other patrons he pulled out a small bag. Sprinkling some of the dust it contained onto the table he muttered a short incantation under his breath. With a flash and a tinkling of bells the two inch tall pixie avatar of his Fae patron appeared before him.
"It is good to see you Faun'alama" he told her. "I believe I have found the group I have been sent to accompany. They are not what I was expecting"
The pixie gave a tiny giggle and shrugged, a gesture he took to mean "Don't blame me, i'm just the messenger."
He rolled his eyes at her and smiled. Standing, he brushed down his well tailored leather jerkin, straightened his emerald green half cloak, adjusted his belt so his magical rod sat more comfortably on his hip and ran his fingers through his long dark hair. Satisfied that he was suitable presentable he turned back to the pixie and nodded. As she flew to sit in her customary position on his left shoulder he pulled back the curtain.
"They're almost ready to depart, I guess we should go and introduce ourselves" He said with a smile, and headed out to meet the gathering adventurers.