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dharman07

3.5 Pathfinder/Fogotten Realms Game

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Out of Character Discussion HERE

 

Characters:

Zenani Elven Cleric of Angharradh played by Meghan Character Sheet

Kurith Half Orc Barbarian played by Spike Character Sheet

Toldin Ironheel, Dwarven Artificer played by DHarman Character Sheet

Marcos Del'Zorn, Human Wizard played by Calixymenthillian Character Sheet

Lan'iln Ashmount Half-Elf Knight played by Me'mori Character Sheet

Arlego Sunfire, Elvin Witch played by Savage Seraphim Character Sheet

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The mighty Blackguard Warlord Aw'raki seemingly came from nowhere. He rose to power overnight. Overthrowing his former brotherhood of paladins, He killed most of them, along with the help of his undead minions, but those he didn't kill he captured and with the aid of a magical oath, giving him their complete loyalty, convinced them to join his cause giving him a whole swath of Blackguard lieutenants to aid him on his quest. Which to most people seems to be to conquer and control everything within reach.

 

Many people are fleeing their homes in fear of the encroaching horde of undead, for fear of being killed and being forced to rise service and only being forced to kill those they love. There are parts of Waterdeep that are flooded with refugees from all over. People sleeping wherever they can. Hungry with no means to provide for themselves, let alone family or friends. They flock to cities like Waterdeep in the hopes that the magic users, clerics and soldiers will be enough to beat back the horde. They may be wrong.

 

The Lords of Waterdeep have agreed to do whatever they can. They are trying to raise forces in every way possible. They have recruitment tents posted all over the city in an attempt to get anyone from raw recruits to seasoned blades and anywhere in between.

 

The Lords of Waterdeep have chosen Marilsa, The Chosen of Torm, as their representative during the crusade to cleanse the land of the Undead blight. She has been doing all in her power to save lives and to prevent the loss of more. She is a Half-elf that stands 5'4", but she stands as if she is 10 feet tall. Her piercingly gray eyes always stare straight into anyone that talks to her. She is always wearing a gleaming white Tabard of Torm over her Mithril Breastplate. She has greaves fixed over her legs but none of these seem to restrict her in anyway. She moves as if her armor isn't their at all, moving with a grace mostly only common among elves. Her pale skin has no visible imperfections and her long brunette hair falls loosely past her shoulders. Her main weapon seems the be the seemingly giant greatsword she carries around on her back as if it wasn't even there.

 

The spells and barriers set up around Waterdeep are very strong and have been enchanted to keep most undead creatures out. Some are so strong however that they can breach the barrier. Thankfully, however, undead of that caliber haven't frequented here many times. Yet.

 

You may have joined the war to find wealth. You might have joined for vengeance or just power or maybe you were conscripted to fight. Whatever your reasons are you have decided to take up the fight against the Undead and try your hand at curing the blight Aw'raki has unleashed for all of Fae'run to feel.

 

Large Map of Faerun

frmap.jpg

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The tall, red-robed wizard strides confidently along the cobblestone street, alongside him, the imposing figure of his half-elven protector. Peering along the white-fronted buildings, their darkened support beams giving them a rather skeletal look in the fading light, Maracos’ eyes find the beginnings of a busy night outside the two-story inn that is their destination. “Hardly extravagant accommodations, Lan’iln,” he comments to his companion, “are you certain that your contact recommended this place? Still, I suppose it will suffice until I gain an audience with the rulers of this provincial berg and begin the negotiations to establish a permanent Thayan presence here.”

 

Entering the establishment, the olive skinned young man casts an imperious gaze around the tap-room, taking in his semi-crowded surroundings. After making his way across to the bar, trusting in the half-elven knight to discourage any unwanted interruptions, he looks to one of the dwarves who stand there pouring the dark ales. Clearing his throat to attract the attention of the blond bearded man, he speaks, “we require rooms, would you be the one with whom to arrange such things?”

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His little town had been so easily overrun by the undead and he had barely escaped with his life. He tried to save as many people as possible but only made it out with a handful. After escorting them to Waterdeep he started to look around for a place to stay for the night. The slender witch slipped in between people on his way to the Underdark Inn. He had been here a few times prior though and it would be an adequate accommodation for the night. Till he got his head clear a bit. His life was gone. Everyone he knew was gone. He needed to figure out what his next move was.

 

He had been looking at the ground as he was walking, but now his gaze rose and fixed itself on the door to the Inn. Arlego slowly opened the door and walked in. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting inside. He moved towards the bar where a Tall fellow in red robes stood. Definitely a wizard by the looks of him. He took a nearby seat and waited for a bartender to hobble over.

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Toldin sighed as the large wooden door to the in opened again. "Ach, were bustin at the seams! I dinnae understand why Bellrose wont let me lock the damned door".

 

The truth is he knew why. All the rooms were packed, most double occupancy. The cellar was still full of beer and wine to sell. This undead war had sent thousands of refugees to Waterdeep. Some poor, but some with money to spend. Toldin remembered the gleam in Bellrose's eyes, when he was instructed by the profit mad Dwarf to tripple the prices on all the rooms and drinks.

 

Still, they had filled up. Toldin was in the process of painting a large sign that said "NO ROOM" In Common, Elven, and Dwarvish. Just to make sure, he had painted a picture of a bed underneath with a red circle and a slash through it. Next to that he had painted a fist with the middle finger sticking straight up, just for emphasis.

 

Still caught up in his painting, a tall olive skinned human, dressed in long red robes pushed through the crowded room and stood infront of him at the bar. Toldin kept painting. After a moment, the human cleared his throat, which Toldin knew was human for "I think im important, pay attention to me". The human then said in a strange accent. "We require rooms, would you be the one with whom to arrange such things?"

 

Toldin nodded. "Eye. I am that. Unfortunately yer a bit too late. City is over-run with refugees. Were double booked most rooms as it is."

 

Toldin looked at the fine clothes the Human was wearing. Bellrose would want to fleece this one, he thought.

 

"Were thinkin' o' rentin' out cots in the attic. Its one large common room. Ceiling would be low for your type. It ill cost ye though. Four gold a night, Food and drink not included."

 

Toldin raised one squinty eye at the newcomer. Before the invasion of refugees, you could get your own suite, breakfast included for that price.

 

During this conversation another figure entered the Inn and sat down at the last free table.

 

"Och, not another!", Toldin though "And by the Hell stones, its another Elf". Not wanting to get too near all these elves he yelled down the bar to a comely young Dwarf with long blond pigtails and bright blue eyes.

 

"Brundah! Table 18 just sat."

 

"I can see that, myself ", came the response from down the bar, followed by a muffled "Mud-miner!". She went to wait on the elf.

 

Toldin raised his eyes to the human. "So.. ye takin?"

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One dark eyebrow was raised at the dwarf at the mention of his prices, though the bronze-skinned half-elf said nothing, since it was up to Maracos, ultimately. A longsword hung from one hip, a mace at the other, and a truly tall shield was slung on one arm, nearly as tall as the half-elf from head to toe.

 

While any metalworker with eyes good enough to see could notice that nearly everything the dark warrior carried was of a special quality, it was the colors the pair shared that made them stand out. Either they were associated with the Red Wizards, or they were credible imitations. The warrior's armor was a deep black, the spikes worked into the shoulders of his armor and shield tipped with a bright red. The shield was the same, save that it was lacquered red, and edged in black, the spikes along its surface seeming to grow out of the red.

 

It was his expression that said that these two were probably the real deal. While not "blank", it was completely ambivalent. To the dwarf, the room, all of it. Despite the attention he was paying to everything within view, he gave off the feeling that it was unimportant to him. They could be on fire, all dead, piles of gems, his expression would likely be the same. Thick-gloved hands rested on the hilts of his weapons, and his head turned slowly, surveying the room with an ear for the conversation between his charge and the dwarf, though the noise of the common room would necessitate some focus.

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Kurith shoves her way through the midafternoon highstreet traffic. People used to just step aside and let her pass, but lately it seems the city was so crowded with refugees, conscripts, and the sorts of people that come out of the woodwork to take advantage of refugees and conscripts in a city during such times as those that have befallen Waterdeep.

 

She had only lived in the city for a little more than four years, but had adopted the culture and even the lazy dialect of her particular part of the city quite readily. Having grown up among a small tribe of nomadic humans on the wide-open plains of the north with no real sense of property or purpose apart from that of the tribe, life in the city was a welcomed change for the young half-orc girl. She liked the noise and chaos of a city that never sleeps, and had become particularly fond of what she called 'livin' big'...spending her money as fast as she could earn it on flashy clothes, strong drink and games of chance. That sort of thing seemed to impress those around her, at least for a while.

 

Toldin was not so easily impressed though, and in spite of Kurith's insisting that her share of the spoils of their most recent adventure were hers 'to waste howeverthehell I want', the Dwarf that had somehow become one of her best friends convinced her to invest a bit of it into better equipment and armour for some future adventure. He himself had made her a greataxe, which he frequently commented upon with immodesty great even by Dwarven standards. Now that troubled times had come to Waterdeep, she was glad that she had listened to Toldin's advice.

 

The truth is that the crowded conditions in Waterdeep of late are getting to her. Even Sailors' Corner, the tavern and brothel she provids security for, was teeming with lowlifes these days and hardly a night passed that she didn't have to beat somebody down for skipping out on his tab or for trying to push any of a number of homebrewed addictive mood-potions to one of the working girls. The truth is that Kurith is beginning to miss the wide open plains and the idea that each individual has a share in the responsibility for the well-being of the tribe as a whole.

 

"Get outta my way, ya damn fool!", Kurith snaps on a young boy as he tries for the fourth time to get her to pay him two coppers to polish her shoes and likely steal her money pouch during the process. The Underdark Tavern is just around the corner, and she hopes to meet Toldin there. She has decided to join the fight against the undead menacing the city, and kind of hoped Toldin will maybe talk her out of it.

 

At the door, a patron tries to turn her away, gesturing to the already overcrowded tavern

 

"NO ROOM, AYE? TELL US SOMETHIN' WE DIDD'N ARREADY KNOW, WON'TCHA?"

 

Satisfied that at least twoscore pairs of eyes are now wide and fixed on her, she waddles straight over to Toldin and gives him a friendship whack between his shoulders.

 

"Got anythin' left here that's better than the piss-pot port they been drinkin' down at the Corner?"

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A squat little dwarf women with long blonde pigtails walked over. "What'll it be?" said the waitress. "I'll take some food and a room for the night. Anything you have." He held 5 gold pieces out in his hand to the Dwarf and dropped them in her open palm. She promptly left to retrieve what he had asked for.

 

As Arlego took a second look around he took everything in. He saw how tired everyone looked. He saw how edgy everyone was. But mostly he noticed the Red Wizard and his Knight standing at the bar. He had heard many things about the Red Wizards, and beyond the power they wielded he knew they were capable of many things, mostly terrible. His father had taught him the ways of the world, teaching him how to figure out if someone is trustworthy. A Red Wizard was far from trustworthy. He also saw a half-orc walk in and up to the bar and hit the barkeep with a friendly tap on the back.

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Toldin is so engrossed with his conversation with the red-cloaked wizard that he barely notices the converstation at the door. His old friend Kurith comes up to him about the time he asks the wizard.

 

"So.. ye takin?"

 

Before the olive skinned human can reply, the muscle bound she-orc gives him a collosal "Whack" on the back. Toldin lurhces forward a step and his paintbrush leaves a long red streak across the middle of the sign he is painting. From across the Bar, Brundha the golden haired waitess gives a high spirited laugh at Toldins misfortune.

 

"Got anythin' left here that's better than the piss-pot port they been drinkin' down at the Corner?", Kurith says with a sharp toothed smile.

 

Toldin looks at the now ruined sign with disgust and puts it down behind the bar. .

 

"Kurith, ive told ye not to come behind the bar when weve got customers. He hands her a mug. Go pour yerself a drink and then take a seat." Toldin points to the only open table where a still snickering Brundha was serving a young elf male. "Ill be with you in a bit."

 

He looks back at the red-robed human, trying to retain his barganing composure. "Er, its a busy inn", he said. "sorry for the interuption".

 

Waiting for the humans reply, Toldin takes a bar rag and starts to wipe out a few mugs.

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Seeing the mess Toldin has made of his hand-painted sign, a mess for which she is at least in some part responsible; Kurith apologises with a muffled "My bad." She then points at the depicted obscene hand gesture and laughs. "That's the first word most hafforcs learn to write."

 

Kurith fills her mug with ale and follows Toldin's pointing finger to the one available table. She mentally dares the elf stranger to raise an eyebrow as she quietly sits down at the table and takes a long drink from her mug.

 

"Toldin sed to me there's a elf-lady workin' the kitchen here.." She pauses a moment, hoping she has not slighted Brundha's cooking and adds. "...not sayin' that dwarf food's not good, but to each their own I sez."

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The wizard stands there silently for a moment after the dwarf’s offer, an unamused expression on his face at what he clearly considers to be a poor attempt at humour. When Toldin makes it apparent that he is not joking by asking his question, though, the Thayan pulls his mouth into a scowl and attempts to speak just as the half-orc woman interrupts the conversation by slapping the dwarf across the back. Making use of the temporary distraction, he wipes his left hand over his tattooed head and composes himself, removing the visible signs of his frustration.

 

With a dismissive glance at the woman as she leaves, Maracos levels his gaze upon the dwarf before him, “4 gold coins for a cot?” he asks in a calm, even voice, “that is an extraordinarily high price, even considering the masses of dispossessed wretches clogging the streets, and I think you will recall I asked for a room. Surely you could find—or arrange—a vacancy?”

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Toldin looked at the red robed wizard and put down the mug. "Look Laddie, ye look like a good lad. I wish I could help ye, but Im nae the prioprietor of the place. That be Bellrose. Anna he is nae more likely to cut someone a deal, than he is to cut his own throat. He sets the prices. I canna help ye".

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"Thanks, but I've wanted to try something other than the normal 'elf' food I eat. I am Arlego Sunfire." He said with a friendly nod of his head. He eyed the half-orc. "I just signed my services for this so called 'crusade'." He said suddenly after a moment of silence. He still didn't know what to think about it exactly. He definitely wanted revenge for his home, his friends, his family. But more than that he wanted to make sure no one else went through the same thing he did. He would do whatever he could to make that happen.

 

Arlego showed magical aptitude as an infant. Arlego was trained in the magical arts from a very young age. Although his father was a wizard Arlego seemed destined for a different path, unbeknown to his father. He was always a very quick study found himself capable of small magic feats at a young age. His father was impressed with his hunger for knowledge and also frightened by it. He tried to forbid Arlego from practicing certain forms of magic, but Arlego never listened. Why not have the knowledge of such a spell? It doesn't mean you have to use it. It could come in handy later. These justifications floated through his head as he broke into his fathers room to study his scrolls and spellbooks.

 

Arlego looked up from his hands. He un-flexed them them a couple of times before putting them back in his lap. "What is your name?" he said with a, now steady voice.

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