Spike

Spike's Olde Worlde RPG

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This game is being played using the Swords & Wizardry Core Rules, a retro-clone of the original D&D with a few add-ons from early subsequent D&D publications. S&W is an Open Game License product. For details, visit http://www.swordsandwizardry.com

 

The Players and their characters

 

Inarah - Solace - Human Cleric

Jay - Chu-Toi - Elven Archer

Orcsoul - Kane McNight - Human Thief

Vil Hatarn - Taryn - Human Fighting-man

Haldir - Brag Ironballz - Dwarf Fighter

 

+++++++++++++++

 

Introduction (I will be brief for now, as I have to be at work this morning)

 

You (the characters), through the magic of DM-railroading, are all gathered together in a local tavern known as The Epicurean Orc. The reason you all have ventured to this town (as yet to be named) is that a wealthy lord has offered a bounty for anybody or group of bodies that can clear out a subterranean lair of monsters that continues to devalue one of his properties. It is apparently a particularly dangerous lair, as the prize has been offered for some time and yet nobody has accomplished the task. In fact, the lair has obtained status as a sort of gladiatorial challenge...and you guys all took the bait want your chance at adventure and glory.

 

So..you're at a table..your serving wench has yet to arrive. Roleplay amongst yourselves.

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A bald dwarf with a long granite-grey beard enters the tavern. His axe & shield slung over his shoulder, he shakes the rain off his ringmail at the door. Muttering under his breath, "Where the hell did that storm come from. eh I blame the elves.." He surveys the tavern & walks over to a open table & sits down. a barmaid comes over & he orders a beer, saying he is waiting for someone but he'll take a look at the menu for some food in the meantime. If I'm gonna wait I might as well eat something, Brag says to the wench.

 

Hoping that this wealthy lord's "offer" is a hell of lot better then the last one, he thinks of what he might do with his share of the treasure. He thinks he could use the funds for personal gain, but more importantly it could be used to buy more weapons & maybe some decent mercs to bolster his family's stronghold in their fight with the damn goblins that have infest the mines his people work.

 

Dum de dum, Brag starts to hum waiting for this person to arrive, probably an elf, he thinks to himself. Always late......

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A young woman in armor walks in off the road. Her hair is short and blonde, she carries a pack with a mace strapped across the top, and her white tunic is dirty from travel. She eyes the orc bartender warily, then orders an ale and seeks an empty seat to rest upon. Setting the mug down in front of her she prays quietly for a moment, then touches a finger to the liquid.

 

solace.jpg

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The elusive serving wench flits past your table and hovers there long enough to drop eaves but not quite long enough to hear either of the newly-arrived patrons request something from the menu.

 

Other people in the tavern include several seemingly-adventurous type folk, some more well-equipped than others, and some appearing more seasoned than others. There is also a man with one arm.

 

The orc bartender leaves her post to see about something in the kitchen. Behind where she was standing hangs a parchment broadside which quaintly proclaims..

 

LORD ARBITRARY

in return for the removal of

creaturef moft foul from the

lower chamberf of hif towne-houfe,

offerf the reward of

16,353 GOLD COINF

 

Below that, an observant reader may peruse the cheese list with "cheddar" struck through.

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A young man in armor walks into the bar. Looks around, not seeing whatever he's looking for, he goes over and begins perusing the postings, stopping to read the note by Lord Arbitrary, and finally stopping at the list of cheeses. His eyes look funny at the corners.

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The orc bartender returns from the kitchen, surveys the newly-arrived person and how he is equipped, draws a predictably orcish conclusion, and edits the cheese notice a second time, crossing out 'brie'.

 

"You gonna go it alone?", she asks, hoping to garner a generous tip from the adventurer by initiating conversation.

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A finely dressed human walks into the... "establishment" his features obscured by a cowl. He looks at the surroundings, noting the bartender and patronage, and lets out an exasperated sigh. He searches for a table with the least amount of grime and proceeds to wipe off the chair before sitting down, taking careful measure to see that his latest Trampleyou Hillgiant purchases don't get scuffed or dirtied by the locals.

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Solace glances over the young man at the bar, noting his distinctive looks. Then watching the latest arrival, the fastidious one, fussing with his packs she begins to relax a little.

 

"Well, I'm not the only human in the place," she thinks. She watches the crowd begin to gather and comes to the conclusion that part of Lord Arbitrary's problem is allowing orcs in town.

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As the cafe fills with new patrons, the serving wench moves from table to table in a seemingly random circuit, stopping at each to ask two questions.

 

(All PCs get the same conversation with the serving wench)

 

"What'll ye 'ave?", she asks firstly, followed by a recitation of the entire daily menu for the benefit of those who cannot read. But she does not provide a written menu for the benefit of those who are unable to understand anything she says..which is pretty much everybody.

 

(Players feel free to ask for anything at all. The cook is known for improvisation)

 

Once she has taken your order, she then says with some discretion, "If ye be needin' anyfing else, go see Jonah Redshirt". She nods her head subtly toward the one-armed man.

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A scruffy-looking human playing dice at one of the tables orders a beer and some stew (with the stipulation that the meat be identifiable), handing the wench his meager winnings to pay. He then stands up, retrieves a large sword from where it had been leaning, and moves to a quieter table for his meal.

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(Taryn)

 

"Ere's yer soup, squire.", the scrawny young human serving wench says as she places the bowl containing stewed meat with a few bits of carrot in front of you. "I thought fer a bit ye'd scampered out on yer tab...wot wif you leavin' th'other table...but.." She prattles on a bit more in an indecipherable slang as she returns you all but two coppers of what you had given her. "It's donkey. But thenaginn don't nobody come 'ere fer th' food, y'know.", she adds, and shrugs knowingly.

 

"After th' Mad Lord's prize, are ye? Quite a goblinchopper ye got there if ye don't mind me sayin' so.". She gestures toward your sword, and then continues the inquisition. "Are ye with them others wot just came in? LIke I sez, people don't come 'ere fer the food."

 

She pauses.

 

"Am I buggin' ye. I don't mean ter bug ye."

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"Just leaving the game while I still had enough coin left to eat." As she rambles indecipherably, Taryn lifts the bowl and gives it a sniff. "Donkey, eh? Could be worse..."

 

"Well, it ain't chopped any goblins recently...'twas my father's sword, been sitting by the fire for the last ten or twenty years." He pauses and takes a look around the room. "I'm not with anyone...yet. But I've heard the stories--I know going down there alone is a death sentence."

 

"No, no...as you say, I didn't come for the food. But talk, rumors, information...that's what I hear people come here for."

 

Taryn takes a sip of the soup, only grimacing a little as he chews on a bit of donkey. After chugging about half his beer, he continues eating the soup, now avoiding the worst of the meat.

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Seeing that the serving girl has stopped at a nearby table, Solace raises a hand and tries to get her attention. "I'd like some bread and cheese, and another one of these," she says, showing her empty mug.

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(Taryn)

 

"I'll be right back to ye inna wink", she assures you, then attends to her other guests.

 

(Solace)

 

The serving wench acknowledges your request with a simple "Yessmissus", takes your empty mug along with your order to the kitchen, and soon returns with a second mug of ale, a chunk of dark bread, and a small crock of very soft cheese. "It's our finest 'ouse-cheese. Will ye need a spoon?"

 

She collects your money..one copper for the cheese and bread and one extra copper for the mug.

 

(The mug now belongs to you unless you want to ask the girl to itemize your dinner tab. It is a rather nice earthen stein.)

 

After a brief but obvious scrutiny of your gear, the wench asks, "Are ye an 'ealer? Tis a right nice goblinsquasher ye got there if ye don't mind me sayin' so. Ye ourghtter 'ave a word with that bloke there", she says, pointing toward Taryn. "Ye likely'll need 'im as much as e'll need you down there. ...assumin' yer not 'ere ter 'elp the cook with her gout, that is. Am I buggin' ye? I don't mean ter."

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Smelling the slop that clearly passes for food in the establishment Kane resists the urge to wretch and swallows the bitter taste creeping up his throat. He digs through his packs searching for something to eat but comes up empty handed. Overheard conversation at the nearby tables seems to suggest that there are treasure seekers in here...

 

"Loose lips make for fat pockets... that's what I've heard anyway" Kane thinks to himself with a smirk as he flicks a roach that could pass for a small dog off the table with a groan.

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