Turn 3: Into the night
Try to sober up. ask about what these creatures are rumored to be capable of and keep an eye out for possible ambushes.
(3)
Voice my minor dislike of Scythe guy having anything to do with us, but make it clear that I would not be completely against having his help, as long as he stays at least ten feet away at all times.
(4)
Sneer at the boy, reminding him that weaklings should slink in the shadows of their betters.
Sneer at the sergeant, asking him if he's organizing this pathetic little band to go kill things or not.
Irked, apologize to Frelock for commenting on his group before seeing them in action. In a somewhat grudging tone.
(2)
Frown at the evil one, but hold my tongue - for now.
(5)
Get the team together, and head on out.
(4)
The noise of the tavern quiets down, everyone turning their attention towards the small group to see if a fight might erupt. People close to them quietly slink further away to get out of the way, and people in the back try to inch closer to listen in. For several seconds there is silence as the two sides size each other up.
Young Dermonster breaks the silence, leaning over towards the sergeant and speaking quietly, "I don't like the look of this guy, I'm not sure we should bring him along, even if he might be useful."
But despite his attempts at secrecy the stranger overheard him, and does not look pleased. "Be quiet, boy, your betters are speaking," he sneers angrily, casting a cold glare at the young man. Then he turns back to the sergeant, "Are you leading this band of weaklings out to kill things, or not?"
Sergeant Frelock has a look of quiet anger on his face, the only kind of anger that befits a gentleman. "Well now...I never... For your information, my good sir, we are going to investigate in order to sooth the minds of the populace. We are not simply going out to 'kill things' as you suggest. These other chaps I'm happy to have accompany us, as they all appear to be, if not gentlemen," he says with a quick glance in Warhammer's direction, "at least useful and willing to help. If you wish to investigate the woods on your own, you are welcome to do so, but you'll have no help from me. I'll have no ruffians aboard this crew, and certainly no insulting thugs. Good day sir."
Then he turns his back to the man without another word, having tired of speaking with this ill-mannered stranger. The man seems surprised by this, not used to being ignored, and it takes him a few seconds to regain his composure.
"Perhaps," he says through gritted teeth, "I was too harsh in my words. You seem rather... competent, and I have yet to see anything to suggest otherwise." He pauses for a second, and winces visibly when continuing, "I apologize if I offended you." It is quite obvious to anyone with a pair of ears that the apology is not sincere.
Despite the insincere apology the sergeant turns back to the man, "Very well, you may join us. But I won't accept any thuggish behaviour from you. Understood?"
"Yes," the man answers, looking quite like he wants to smash the sergeant over the head with a large blunt object.
Brother Torir has been quietly staring at the man for the entire conversation, frowning very intently and without making a sound.
While the others called each other names Warhammer decided to do something useful. He momentarily considered trying to sober up a bit, but ultimately decided that he wasn't drunk enough to want to be sober. Instead he called the tavernkeeper over, intending to find out more about these creatures they were to hunt.
"Oy, you, tavernkeeper. These creatures in the woods, what are they capable of?"
The tavernkeeper scratched his head, "I don't know, I suppose they would be able to kill people."
"Right, that's obvious. What else, what do the rumors tell of them?"
"Well, it is said that they stalk the night, attacking anyone out in the woods and killing them."
"So, they kill people, that's all you know."
"Yes."
Warhammer just sighed and turned back to the group, quite disappointed with the uselessness of the man.
Now that all the people in the vicinity who wanted to help had been recruited Frelock decided that they should head out. "Right lads, we march then. Follow me!" he called out, and marched out of the tavern.
The night was chilly, a cold wind blowing in from the east. In the alleyways and smaller streets the shadows lay thick and heavy, the lampposts unable to illuminate them, but if there were anyone hiding there they did not trouble the group. Within a few minutes of walking the group found themselves standing on the outskirts of Dullhaven.
A mile or so to the west the air harbor lay, still illuminated by torchlight even at this late hour. To the south there were a few scattered farmhouses, small dots of light in the night. And beyond them the dark forest loomed, barely visible in the dim light cast by the crescent moon.
Now they just had to decide which way to go.
Environment: It is cold outside, a wind blowing from the east. The crescent moon is still high in the sky.Locations:A small town near the southern tip of the kingdom. Little of note happens there.
Type: Small Airship
Owner: John 'Warhammer' Jones
Defense: Light armor: +1 against piercing, slashing and blunt damage; Extra maneuvering fins: +1 to dodge
Armaments: 2 simple cannons: +1 piercing damage.
Damage: None
Location: Dullhaven Air Harbor
Race: Human
Numbers: 6
State: Ready
Location: With Sergeant Frelock
Equipment:Musket, sabre, Army Uniform
Player Statuses:Name: Unus Dermonster
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: Excellent
State: Standing
Location: Dullhaven, Outskirts
Equipment: Magical Sword (right hand); Clothes
Common clothes
Magical Sword: effects unknown, seems to interact with the mark on your arm.
Magic Mark on arm: effects unknown, sometimes lights up when you're angry.
Basic Swordsmanship: can handle a blade. +1 to hit with swords.
Name: Sergeant Frelock
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: Excellent
State: Standing
Location: Dullhaven, Outskirts
Equipment: Flintlock Pistol (left hand); Sabre (right hand); Army Uniform
Army Uniform
Flintlock Pistol: +1 piercing damage.
Sabre
Leadership: can inspire allies to give +1 to attack, damage and dodge for one turn.
Adept Swordsman: +1 to hit and damage with swords.
Gentlemanly: Has to roll an extra time to take dishonest action.
Name: John 'Warhammer' Jones
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: Excellent
State: Standing
Location: Dullhaven, Outskirts
Equipment: Cutlass (right hand); Leather Coat
Cutlass
Leather Coat
Spyglass
Airship "Raven" (Owned)
Ace Pilot: +1 to maneuvering airships, +1 to hit with airship-mounted weapons.
Basic Swordsmanship: Can handle a blade. +1 to hit with swords
Charismatic: makes interactions with others more likely to succeed.
Name: Brother Torir
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: Excellent
State: Standing
Location: Dullhaven, Outskirts
Equipment:Magical Staff (right hand); White Robes
Magical Staff
White Robes
Pouch of herbs
Copper amulet: shaped like a dove
White mage: can use white magic.
Adept healer: +1 to healing light and moderate wounds.
Herbalist: can create potions and salves from various ingredients.
Name: Ironicus Owl
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: Excellent
State: Standing
Location: Dullhaven, Outskirts
Equipment:Magical Scythe (right hand); Black armor
Black armor: +1 against piercing and slashing damage.
Magical Scythe: +1 slashing damage. Feeds on the souls of the slain to heal and empower wielder.
Reaper: +1 to hit with scythes.
Author
Topic: Roll to Trope: Turn 7 (Read 9422 times)