I especially love all the avatars drawn next to the words.
((Wait, no waddle dee? Why no waddle dee? I wanna my waddle dee! *Childish complaints*))
Was that supposed to be me there?
Never fear, I've got you both covered. Check again.
Peek out window...
Peer out the window.
NYEHHHHH BRIGHT LIGHT, BAD IDEA. Maybe you should wait until the fog of sleep fades from your eyes before exposing your vision to direct sunlight.
On the plus side, you're much more awake now that your brain has registered the stabbing sensation in your retinas.
...and examine contents of room.
Anyway, I say we look through every part of our room like we've never been here before in search of items that will be useful on our adventure that's obviously going to happen today.
Open the chest and look inside. Look in all the drawers.
Peek into chest.
You examine the contents of your room. Your dresser only contains clothes, but the chest's contents are a little more interesting. Amidst linens and extra blankets are a variety of necessities for everyday life. Extra candles. A small knife. Your rucksack.
A crowbar. Rope. A set of files.
Just everyday necessities.
That said, you know your father wouldn't really approve of those sort of tools, being an upstanding citizen of the realm, so you keep them tucked safely away beneath the blankets in a closed chest in your room. You feel a little bad for keeping secrets from him, but it's for the best.
Aside from the chest, you have a small pile of books next to your bed. You may not be formally educated, but your father taught you how to read and write back when you were little. Knowledge was always important to him, even if your chances to advance your education depreciated somewhat with the transition to your current home.
Best not to dwell on that. You procure enough books to sate your appetite through your nighttime misadventures. Though your stock of new literature has been wearing pretty thin, recently...
Grab the mandolin first.
Alt: Play a wicked sick solo on that lute
You shred on your mandolin like a glorious motherfucker.
Even in the throes of epic bardry, you do feel compelled to mention that it is, in fact, a mandolin, not a lute. A lute typically has six strings tuned in perfect fourth intervals (except for the third and fourth strings, which are separated by a major third), while a mandolin has eight strings tuned in pairs with the pairs tuned in fifths.
Or so you've read.
Put your shoes on - you wouldn't want to step on something sharp or spiky. They are likely under your bed.
You reach under your bed for your shoes and - what's this?
Oh, you thought you'd lost that! It's your old wizard hat from your childhood. You used to put this hat on, wear a blanket around your neck, and pretend to be Ravaatra the Great, wizard extraordinaire and adviser to the king. Not any king in particular, just
kings. All of them. Also you were a queen, but you were never sure where you were a queen of.
You've left all that childhood nonsense behind, though.
Okay, once more for old time's sake.
Get dressed and prepare for what hopefully will be a great day!
YOU ARE SO READY FOR THIS DAY.
You know that the village, Westhallow, has all the usual accoutrements: fields, inn, a few merchants, a farrier - standard fare for a provincial village. The lord of the land, Baron Reghart, has a stone keep at the northern end of the village, built into the hillside where the trees thin. The other three ends of the settlement lead into the surrounding forest, with one major highway passing through the town.
Your motives are your
desire for power and your
anger at your less-than-stellar position in the world. Your passions are
the thrill of thievery and
the allure of magic.
What is your
long-term goal, your
short term plans, and your
immediate actions?
Author
Topic: The Price of Freedom (Read 12724 times)