Lord ZeeI would like to join this. Could I have that spot in the northwest, north of Britton and Wanderer? Is that still vacant?
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Joric Ironfist
Joric drowsily looked between the tavern keeper and the Duergar. He saw two of each of them, which meant he was vastly outnumbered. But even in his drunken state he figured that the tavern keeper's recommendation wasn't just a friendly request - it wasn't the first time he had been cut off from drink.
All he could do was bob his head up and down, in something that resembled a nod. A draw it would be. He slapped down some coin to cover the cost of his half of the drinks, and ended up overpaying somewhat. Then he rose to his feet on shaky legs, and drunkenly stumbled up to his room, his armor clanking even noisily than before.
"Of course!" Darius said with a bright smile. He had fought with knives since he was a boy. But he had to admit, it took serious balls to challenge a man whose entire body was covered in knives to a knife throwing contest. He couldn't help but wonder if he had something up his sleeve.
Nonetheless, he put up a confident front. "How much money are you looking to lose?" He asked casually, as he picked up another knife and began to line it up with the target.
Joric drowsily looked between the tavern keeper and the Duergar. He saw two of each of them, which meant he was vastly outnumbered. But even in his drunken state he figured that the tavern keeper's recommendation wasn't just a friendly request - it wasn't the first time he had been cut off from drink.
All he could do was bob his head up and down, in something that resembled a nod. A draw it would be. He slapped down some coin to cover the cost of his half of the drinks, and ended up overpaying somewhat. Then he rose to his feet on shaky legs, and drunkenly stumbled up to his room, his armor clanking even noisily than before.
"Of course!" Darius said with a bright smile. He had fought with knives since he was a boy. But he had to admit, it took serious balls to challenge a man whose entire body was covered in knives to a knife throwing contest. He couldn't help but wonder if he had something up his sleeve.
Nonetheless, he put up a confident front. "How much money are you looking to lose?" He asked casually, as he picked up another knife and began to line it up with the target.
Joric Ironfist
"You... you can hold your own, Blackdagger." Joric admitted. Few individuals had ever been able to out-drink him. If one's skills were determined by a set of numbers, Joric always imagined his constitution would be at the max. So, it was quite impressive that the Duergar seemed to be on the same level as him. It made him wonder just what kind of drinks they served, down in the dark underground that the Duergars called home. He briefly considered calling it a draw.
No.
His fellow dwarves were cheering him on, and he loathed to back down from a challenge. Calling for a draw may be interpreted as a sign that he couldn't handle anymore. "Another!" He announced, raising a hand.
Darius Arenar
Darius too had more than a few stories to share with the rest of the table. He spoke of bizarre strangers and sightings on the road, of jobs where he ended up entangled in conflicts between gangs and local law enforcement, and even had a few funny stories of his own. He exaggerated at times, but only slightly - enough to make even simple stories sound impressive, but not too much to make them unbelievable. But one thing would be clear from listening to his stories: he had never been away from the Moonsea. And if anyone inquired into his personal background, he would find a way to change the subject, perhaps even turn the question around and try to learn more about them.
Dhyannah seemed alright to him. Well-traveled, liked to have a good time, not some self-righteous holier-than-thou do-gooder. Arden was a friendly and possessed a sense of humor, but to Darius he also came across as a bit of a braggart when he started throwing knives, and in doing so attracted a crowd.
Of course, Darius never found fault with bragging so long as it wasn't excessive - he liked to brag too, after all. And when there were knives involved, he simply couldn't resist. So he joined in, throwing knives alongside Arden in an attempt to best him, although his demeanor indicated it was more of a friendly competition. His dexterous hands allowed him to do exceedingly well. He considered inviting the Duergar to join, but after taking one look at the drinking contest, he quickly decided that would be a health risk for... well, everyone within knife-throwing range.
"You... you can hold your own, Blackdagger." Joric admitted. Few individuals had ever been able to out-drink him. If one's skills were determined by a set of numbers, Joric always imagined his constitution would be at the max. So, it was quite impressive that the Duergar seemed to be on the same level as him. It made him wonder just what kind of drinks they served, down in the dark underground that the Duergars called home. He briefly considered calling it a draw.
No.
His fellow dwarves were cheering him on, and he loathed to back down from a challenge. Calling for a draw may be interpreted as a sign that he couldn't handle anymore. "Another!" He announced, raising a hand.
Darius Arenar
Darius too had more than a few stories to share with the rest of the table. He spoke of bizarre strangers and sightings on the road, of jobs where he ended up entangled in conflicts between gangs and local law enforcement, and even had a few funny stories of his own. He exaggerated at times, but only slightly - enough to make even simple stories sound impressive, but not too much to make them unbelievable. But one thing would be clear from listening to his stories: he had never been away from the Moonsea. And if anyone inquired into his personal background, he would find a way to change the subject, perhaps even turn the question around and try to learn more about them.
Dhyannah seemed alright to him. Well-traveled, liked to have a good time, not some self-righteous holier-than-thou do-gooder. Arden was a friendly and possessed a sense of humor, but to Darius he also came across as a bit of a braggart when he started throwing knives, and in doing so attracted a crowd.
Of course, Darius never found fault with bragging so long as it wasn't excessive - he liked to brag too, after all. And when there were knives involved, he simply couldn't resist. So he joined in, throwing knives alongside Arden in an attempt to best him, although his demeanor indicated it was more of a friendly competition. His dexterous hands allowed him to do exceedingly well. He considered inviting the Duergar to join, but after taking one look at the drinking contest, he quickly decided that would be a health risk for... well, everyone within knife-throwing range.
Joric Ironfist
Truthfully, Joric had not expected the Duergar to accept, considering his initial reaction. But now, the honor of his people was on the line, but he was not worried. His constitution was greater than most, even by Dwarven standards. And hey, maybe he could learn more about a future traveling companion - drinking contests were a great way to make friends. Anyways, he accompanied the Duergar to the tavern, and sat down at the table, ready to get down to business.
"Two of your strongest dwarven brews!" Joric decreed with enthusiasm. Although history books were unlikely to record the event that was about to happen, it would undoubtedly be the most significant conflict between a Dwarf and a Duergar to ever unfold. "Keep 'em coming until one of us can't take anymore. Loser pays the bill."
He looked over to the other table, and waved to his Dwarven brethren, who were understandably shocked. But if they wanted to place bets or cheer him on, he would not object. He turned back to his new rival. "I'm Joric Ironfist..." he introduced, realizing he had yet to provide his name. "And you would be?"
"I'm Darius." Darius introduced himself, sitting next to the Spellsword. He decided not to give his last name - even though it was a fake one at that. The Spellsword had only given a first name, so it only seemed fitting to do the same. He looked over to the two dwarves in their party, that Arden had already previously commented on, about to engage in a drinking contest. "Hard to say how this will turn out. I've never met a Duergar, and even if I did, I'd be an idiot to judge them all based on that first encounter. As for the dwarf... he's a bit odd, that much is obvious. Then again, we traveling types are all a bit odd aren't we?"
He ordered a drink. "First round is on me." He told Arden and Dhyannah. Darius had used this tactic before. It was amazing how much you could learn from someone by simply buying them a drink. In his experience, people's tastes tended to become more expensive when someone else was paying for it, but there was always the occasional individual who either bought something cheap or refused the offer altogether.
Of course, Arden had already ordered, but the woman had yet to do so, and so far she was the mystery. She had kept out of the negotiating, but didn't seem to appreciate the paladin's judgemental gaze any more than he did, and had not hesitated to say so to her face. "Good job shutting down 'Her Holiness' back there." He congratulated her.
Truthfully, Joric had not expected the Duergar to accept, considering his initial reaction. But now, the honor of his people was on the line, but he was not worried. His constitution was greater than most, even by Dwarven standards. And hey, maybe he could learn more about a future traveling companion - drinking contests were a great way to make friends. Anyways, he accompanied the Duergar to the tavern, and sat down at the table, ready to get down to business.
"Two of your strongest dwarven brews!" Joric decreed with enthusiasm. Although history books were unlikely to record the event that was about to happen, it would undoubtedly be the most significant conflict between a Dwarf and a Duergar to ever unfold. "Keep 'em coming until one of us can't take anymore. Loser pays the bill."
He looked over to the other table, and waved to his Dwarven brethren, who were understandably shocked. But if they wanted to place bets or cheer him on, he would not object. He turned back to his new rival. "I'm Joric Ironfist..." he introduced, realizing he had yet to provide his name. "And you would be?"
"I'm Darius." Darius introduced himself, sitting next to the Spellsword. He decided not to give his last name - even though it was a fake one at that. The Spellsword had only given a first name, so it only seemed fitting to do the same. He looked over to the two dwarves in their party, that Arden had already previously commented on, about to engage in a drinking contest. "Hard to say how this will turn out. I've never met a Duergar, and even if I did, I'd be an idiot to judge them all based on that first encounter. As for the dwarf... he's a bit odd, that much is obvious. Then again, we traveling types are all a bit odd aren't we?"
He ordered a drink. "First round is on me." He told Arden and Dhyannah. Darius had used this tactic before. It was amazing how much you could learn from someone by simply buying them a drink. In his experience, people's tastes tended to become more expensive when someone else was paying for it, but there was always the occasional individual who either bought something cheap or refused the offer altogether.
Of course, Arden had already ordered, but the woman had yet to do so, and so far she was the mystery. She had kept out of the negotiating, but didn't seem to appreciate the paladin's judgemental gaze any more than he did, and had not hesitated to say so to her face. "Good job shutting down 'Her Holiness' back there." He congratulated her.
I mean, if you're willing to look past the whole kinslaying thing, she doesn't seem THAT bad to me. Although that could just be because she has been put alongside the greedy gypsy or the self-righteous paladin, both of whom fall on opposite ends of the spectrum.
"That's rather generous of you." Darius commented, a pleasant smile on his face - this one actually somewhat sincere. One free night where he didn't have to pay for a place to sleep, and at a significantly higher quality inn than the one he had been staying at since he first arrived. You can tell a lot about a man by how he treats those who work for him. Still, the old man had far from won him over. He always had to be on guard around these people. He couldn't stop thinking about his own criminal past, and how a man like Grigor Hulmaster would surely lock him up or even execute him if he knew.
He raised an eyebrow at the paladin, who was casting a judgemental gaze at everyone in the room. He couldn't help but roll his eyes. She really was one of those holier-than-thou types wasn't she. Then he glanced at a newcomer, with some sort of tattoos and distinctly elven features. Another half elf? She looked more nervous and out of place than anything else - perhaps unused to being in a noble's house? Based on the tattoos (which he assumed were elven), he guessed she had more of an elven upbringing than a human one. Although Darius's mother was an elf, she actually knew very little of elven culture, having grown up in a city. So Darius's elven upbringing was almost non-existent.
Upon being escorted out, Darius addressed the rest of the group. "Well, I think I'll sit down with a tall mug of ale and relax. If anyone wants to find me and swap stories, you're welcome to." He would leave out some of the more... colourful details of his past, of course.
And with that, he made his way back down the road and into the city. Once he reached the inn, he did exactly as he said, sitting down at an empty table with his drink. He would either be left in peace or get to learn more about those he would be working with. He would be perfectly content either way.
Joric grinned, although that was hardly anything new. "I've always found undead to be thick-skulled. Bunch of boneheads." Perhaps it would be wise for the group to prepare themselves for an endless stream of skeleton-related puns on their journey. He had been saving them. After all, undead were among his favourite enemies - it was fun to crush skulls, and it was always satisfying to axe the necromancer behind it and put them back to rest, albeit missing a few limbs, ribs, or fragments of skull.
His room having already paid for, the dwarf had a bit of extra money to spend on a night of celebration, which he was more than happy to do. There was no need to visit a smith or buy provisions - he had already seen to those needs the previous day. He gave the paladin a respectful nod, from one warrior to another, and then looked to the Duergar. "I've always wondered how much drink a Duergar could hold. What do ya say to a contest?" He challenged.
After all, he had his honor to defend. And surely he couldn't expect the Duergar to play fair in single combat - even if the Duergar would be willing to accept. Besides, it wouldn't do them any good to beat each other up before the job.
He raised an eyebrow at the paladin, who was casting a judgemental gaze at everyone in the room. He couldn't help but roll his eyes. She really was one of those holier-than-thou types wasn't she. Then he glanced at a newcomer, with some sort of tattoos and distinctly elven features. Another half elf? She looked more nervous and out of place than anything else - perhaps unused to being in a noble's house? Based on the tattoos (which he assumed were elven), he guessed she had more of an elven upbringing than a human one. Although Darius's mother was an elf, she actually knew very little of elven culture, having grown up in a city. So Darius's elven upbringing was almost non-existent.
Upon being escorted out, Darius addressed the rest of the group. "Well, I think I'll sit down with a tall mug of ale and relax. If anyone wants to find me and swap stories, you're welcome to." He would leave out some of the more... colourful details of his past, of course.
And with that, he made his way back down the road and into the city. Once he reached the inn, he did exactly as he said, sitting down at an empty table with his drink. He would either be left in peace or get to learn more about those he would be working with. He would be perfectly content either way.
Joric grinned, although that was hardly anything new. "I've always found undead to be thick-skulled. Bunch of boneheads." Perhaps it would be wise for the group to prepare themselves for an endless stream of skeleton-related puns on their journey. He had been saving them. After all, undead were among his favourite enemies - it was fun to crush skulls, and it was always satisfying to axe the necromancer behind it and put them back to rest, albeit missing a few limbs, ribs, or fragments of skull.
His room having already paid for, the dwarf had a bit of extra money to spend on a night of celebration, which he was more than happy to do. There was no need to visit a smith or buy provisions - he had already seen to those needs the previous day. He gave the paladin a respectful nod, from one warrior to another, and then looked to the Duergar. "I've always wondered how much drink a Duergar could hold. What do ya say to a contest?" He challenged.
After all, he had his honor to defend. And surely he couldn't expect the Duergar to play fair in single combat - even if the Duergar would be willing to accept. Besides, it wouldn't do them any good to beat each other up before the job.
Darius kept his expression neutral. That wasn't entirely what he had been hoping for. Some simple public recognition would have let people know he had done a job for the rulers of the city, which would make him come across as well recommended should he offer his services to anyone else. Settling into the service of a single employer didn't suit him. After he left his home city and the gang behind, he rarely served the same employer twice. In his experience, taking repeated jobs for the same person meant that they started to expect loyalty, and eventually hoped said loyalty would allow them to get away with paying him slightly less.
It may be a stable career, but he never wanted stability - he wanted freedom and independence. He never stayed in a town for more than a year. In fact, within a few months he could end up leaving the Moonsea altogether.
Additionally, while Darius was not well informed on the city's politics, he knew that the Hulmasters were in charge. Which meant that they were politicians, and politicians had rivals and agendas. He seemed honorable at first glance, but so did most nobles - they were supposed to. The first job may be to clear out some bandits or stop some tomb raiders, but the second or third might be to discredit or eliminate a political rival, and the rival's family may decide to take vengeance on Darius himself, since the ruling family is usually untouchable. He had personal experience in that regard as well.
Still, it was better than nothing. And another job or two with the Hulmasters wouldn't hurt - depending on what the job actually was, of course. All of the Moonsea's settlements were starting to look the same anyways, and it wouldn't make a huge difference if one more city official was out for his head. He had to leave towns in a hurry before and could do so again. Arenar wasn't even his real last name! "Sign me up." He said with a slight smile, leaning back in his chair while carefully examining the expressions of his soon-to-be coworkers.
When his puns failed to defuse the obvious tension in the room, Joric had fallen into silence. No one had even acknowledged his presence, save for the Duergar who spat at him. Joric's eyes narrowed. He had heard much about the Duergar, and very little of it was good. He tried not to let that prejudice define his few interactions with them, but there was always a certain wariness in case the rumors happened to be true. And they tended to be wary as well, if not openly hostile.
But spitting when you meet someone? In someone else's home? Joric may not have been the most well mannered individual, but that was just rude.
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. He knew very little about the quest he was signing up for, but they had a map and it had something to do with undead who were disturbed by tomb raiders.
"AYE!" Joric declared with enthusiasm, a cheesy grin on his face as he slammed a fist down on the table. "I'm itching to axe those gravediggers a few questions!" He gave the battleaxe at his hip an affectionate pat.
It may be a stable career, but he never wanted stability - he wanted freedom and independence. He never stayed in a town for more than a year. In fact, within a few months he could end up leaving the Moonsea altogether.
Additionally, while Darius was not well informed on the city's politics, he knew that the Hulmasters were in charge. Which meant that they were politicians, and politicians had rivals and agendas. He seemed honorable at first glance, but so did most nobles - they were supposed to. The first job may be to clear out some bandits or stop some tomb raiders, but the second or third might be to discredit or eliminate a political rival, and the rival's family may decide to take vengeance on Darius himself, since the ruling family is usually untouchable. He had personal experience in that regard as well.
Still, it was better than nothing. And another job or two with the Hulmasters wouldn't hurt - depending on what the job actually was, of course. All of the Moonsea's settlements were starting to look the same anyways, and it wouldn't make a huge difference if one more city official was out for his head. He had to leave towns in a hurry before and could do so again. Arenar wasn't even his real last name! "Sign me up." He said with a slight smile, leaning back in his chair while carefully examining the expressions of his soon-to-be coworkers.
When his puns failed to defuse the obvious tension in the room, Joric had fallen into silence. No one had even acknowledged his presence, save for the Duergar who spat at him. Joric's eyes narrowed. He had heard much about the Duergar, and very little of it was good. He tried not to let that prejudice define his few interactions with them, but there was always a certain wariness in case the rumors happened to be true. And they tended to be wary as well, if not openly hostile.
But spitting when you meet someone? In someone else's home? Joric may not have been the most well mannered individual, but that was just rude.
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. He knew very little about the quest he was signing up for, but they had a map and it had something to do with undead who were disturbed by tomb raiders.
"AYE!" Joric declared with enthusiasm, a cheesy grin on his face as he slammed a fist down on the table. "I'm itching to axe those gravediggers a few questions!" He gave the battleaxe at his hip an affectionate pat.
Alright, I'll keep that in mind for future reference.
Also, I posted again. Figured that it would be a bit out of character for Darius to be so eager to plunder the dead, and the paladin's argument would have given him second thoughts.
Also, I posted again. Figured that it would be a bit out of character for Darius to be so eager to plunder the dead, and the paladin's argument would have given him second thoughts.
"Valid points, Lady Knight." Darius suddenly interjected, a bit of irony in his voice at the 'lady knight.' To be quite honest, he wasn't entirely sure what he should make about her sudden act of charity. Had she done it out of genuine compassion, or just to spite the woman who disagreed with her? If it was the latter, then that made the act an empty gesture, and made her seem more petty than anything else. But her argument about why they shouldn't loot the tombs was convincing, and since he had limited experience on the matter, he had to bow to her judgement, especially because he had no desire to be cursed or haunted. He also thought of his own faith, and realized that if he wished to retain favor with the goddess he had recently started praying to, he probably shouldn't desecrate any graves, even if death wasn't Tymora's domain.
The result of all this thinking was that he suddenly found himself changing his mind about remaining silent. No one else was speaking up to halt the bickering, and he didn't he didn't come here to watch a catfight, as entertaining as those could be.
"I believe we have gotten off topic. This is clearly an urgent matter, and time is short." He looked over to Assallya. "...and every late arrival means there is less coin to be divided amongst us." As he said this, he pointed towards Joric (who furrowed his brow in response), and then to the paladin, both of whom had arrived late. Finally, he looked back to the old man. "One hundred and seventy-five does seem reasonable. Although I'm sure some public recognition for our deed - after it is done, or course - would go a long way to helping us all find future employment within your great city." He suggested, laying the flattery on thick.
The result of all this thinking was that he suddenly found himself changing his mind about remaining silent. No one else was speaking up to halt the bickering, and he didn't he didn't come here to watch a catfight, as entertaining as those could be.
"I believe we have gotten off topic. This is clearly an urgent matter, and time is short." He looked over to Assallya. "...and every late arrival means there is less coin to be divided amongst us." As he said this, he pointed towards Joric (who furrowed his brow in response), and then to the paladin, both of whom had arrived late. Finally, he looked back to the old man. "One hundred and seventy-five does seem reasonable. Although I'm sure some public recognition for our deed - after it is done, or course - would go a long way to helping us all find future employment within your great city." He suggested, laying the flattery on thick.
My speculation: I can see Assallya and Darius becoming the party's sassmasters. I imagine Sumia will turn out to be the strict: "If you are anything other than lawful good, then I owe you at least one stern lecture before this adventure is over" type. I don't know about the Orc Cleric, but he seems like a wise and honorable type, so I would expect a few disapproving glares. Joric doesn't sass people so much as make them cringe (and occasionally laugh) with his stupid jokes. I'm not sure how much sass we can expect from the human rogue lady whose name I will butcher if I try to spell, but there will probably be a few arguments given her apparent temper. As for Poohead's own characters, I have no idea, but the Duergar is probably used to dealing with angry squabbling humans.
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