Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Arty Fox

Good day, Edgelords and M'bladies! We are back up and running in full form, doing both the D and the D, as befits our heathen proclivities. With this in mind, we are back to our regular posting cycle. Stuff IC seems to be winding up to a head, which is expected with the coming nightfall.

With this in mind, remember that the Current Clack is still a'clacking, regardless of what characters are doing in the area. Depending upon where said characters are they may have the possibility to influence these events, but, we can't be everywhere, now can we? And even if we could, resources are finite things. (insert evil laugh here) Best of luck, and remember that questions, roll requests, etc., can be placed in the OOC Lounge of our Discord.

Happy gaming, odds be ever in your favor, so on, and so forth.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Light, steady rain continues to patter across the Township. Now that the rain has lessened appreciably, the temperature shifts to something colder.

Time: Late afternoon. There are but a smattering of hours before proper nightfall, so far as anyone can tell with the sky's ever-present cloud cover.

Ambience: In contrast to the dropping temperature outside, the silversmith's place is quite warm and just a tiny bit hazy. The two lamps lit by Jacques earlier and the constant dim glow of the flameless heat source under the pot forge provide adequate light to the room as a whole, though shadowy corners remain. The doors is solidly closed and barred with a heavy beam, front and back both. There are sounds of movement coming from the outside, small at first, common to a town full of people stirring.

*****

Jacques remained quiet as the discussion around him had less and less to do with the work he was doing and more with their plans for the immediate future, however short it might end up being. The focus for him was on the weapon he was inlaying with silver. Sure enough, as soon as the blade was done (and cooled with room temperature oil) he inverted the weapon and held it fast within the vice he used earlier. He had mentioned treating the guard and pommel to account for the differing balance the item had now. Luckily, addressing this took very little time. The metal-liquifying stylus made a short task of the less crafted materials of the slim sword, putting into it the same type of patterns he had inscribed upon the blade but in remarkably less time. Inserting the plaited silver wire and welding it into place in a semi-liquid state was again short work, thanks to his white-hot stylus. Another application of oil and he gingerly moved Victoria's sword to the counter near to her (with thick cloth as it was apparently still very hot) as she performed her ritual magic on the Constable's hammer. Though he said nothing, Jacques nodded with an amount of personal pride. This was one of his better works. (Skill Check: 24)

The weapon was transformed from a quality but mundane utility cut & thrust sword in a style favored by Human craftsfolk, more likely to be seen on a battlefield than a dueling circle, into a nigh aristocratic tool of efficient stabwork. The lingering oils on the sword reflected the twinkling light of the lamp nearby to reveal a differently hued metal swirling and dancing within the greater amount of steel present, flush to its dimensions and notably darker toward the edges as if outlined with permanently oxidized argent. The style was breathtakingly similar to designs found on contemporary Elven jewelry, though not quite with their reported complexity and thread-thin lines. He was a mortal Human after all, versed in the style to a degree but without the centuries to practice. The lines and swirls made enchanting designs that bore similarities with both sheet music and organic, leaf bearing vines. One versed in such things might be able to discern more upon closer inspection. This was a piece of art.

Before collecting any other weapons to work upon, Jacques addressed two points which Kathryn had made about their present situation. "Your knife, there," he motioned to the dagger taken from the Goblins after their first skirmish, "wasn't made by any Goblin, nor Goblin-kin. I'd say Humans made it, and not too far off from where that young lady's rapier was forged. Or by a weaponsmith from there. I don't have a practiced eye for weapons and I can tell it's decent work." Jacques mumbled something to himself following this, shaking his head as if debating something to himself. "There's a couple of people in my family that found a talent for magic. Not me - can't cast a stitch - but I learned some things and gifting holidays were ...interesting... sometimes. Like my silver stylus, there. And..." He moved to the desk/table near the back door which held the book, skull, and what looked like they might have been alchemical or ritual supplies and opened a drawer. A felt bag was retrieved, from which he poured two stones into his hand, one of which he set on the counter. "One of you hang onto that. This place is secure as any in town, but you're right, Cavendish might come back. Or he might send his cronies after me, or just burn my place down to the stones. If something happens, and you're still offering help, I'll send you a message through this."

One stone he pocketed, then returned to his pot forge. "Axe and dagger next," he said with a tired but determined voice. Jacques paused for a moment as Marita offered up her dagger, giving a glance down to her mace and then back up to meet her eyes. With a touch of hesitance, he managed to say, "Be a lot faster with your cudgel. But I'll do this if you want. Tell me if you change your mind." He set the blade down next to the others in line for silvering and got back to work.

His tangent about the mace over, Jacques returned to the question of Kathryn wanting to learn about inlaying silver. "If you're already trained as a smith, I guess that you already know how to inlay a metal. Takes a lot than the way I do it. You can see the technique I'm using with this, and it's only because of this item I have. Scrapes through forged metal like hot cheese. Heats small items malleable ready and quick, too. It's like cheating. If you want to learn how to work silver specifically and learn the craft of a jeweler, then I might be able to help. Provided we both survive the next three nights and you can devote good time to learn from me. If you find me after, I'd be open to it."

The Guard, now more obviously coming around, jerked against his constraints and let out a dull groan which he tried to stifle as best as possible. He failed miserably. Coming to full consciousness or nearabouts to it, Guard flinched and moved his head away from the sound of Kathryn's voice closeby. He audibly hissed but otherwise did not speak, neither to say anything in his defense nor answer the offer of food and water.

Meanwhile, at the front of the building, a hesitant series of small knocks sounded from the main door. Behind it, a strained voice issued, "Um, Monsieur Mallard? ...Monsieur Mallard, your, ah, sign? Sign has fallen. Do you want me to put it back? May I come in, sir?" Another knock sounded, a little bolder this time.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

Feel free to look over our OOC initial post to familiarize yourself with the setting and character generation rules. You can submit a character for approval here in the OOC at any time. Let me know if you have questions.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Ever Faithful

Nearing the end of this part of the RP. If the group collectively agrees to continue, there are two more adventures outlined in this setting.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Ever Faithful
Samurai subclass is featured in Xanathar's Guide to Everything, which is an accepted source for this RP. If you are asking this for the purposes of submitting a character, there is a Samurai-like fighter type in the setting, though they live a hell of a long way off from the region portrayed here. Will require some creative background work. Also, we're nearing the endgame of this part of the RP. I couldn't bring in another character at this time, though I would be open to keeping it in reserve if we all agree to move into Part 2.

Concerning the character sheet link - I'm not sure what you mean by this. The CS used by the people here is discussed in the original OOC post.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Interior Silversmith's Shop Action: Ritual Casting Identify Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Once committed to a Ritual, there was little else that Victoria could do without spoiling her efforts. On the occasions that she had performed a ritual spellwork before, there wasn't a pressing concern that it might be interrupted. Her knowledge of these things was not so complete that Victoria could predict what would happen in the event that she had to forcibly stop, either. Maybe nothing, aside from the spell's energy dissipating into the Weave around them. Maybe something, if the power was to rebound upon her or her ritual equipment. Or maybe a wholly unexpected result. The unknown was usually interesting; a poor temptation but one nonetheless. Such thoughts were fleeting and minuscule anyway as there was no way (that she might think of at that moment) Victoria would voluntarily sabotage a Ritual. But something hinted that it might, regardless.

The prisoner had moved. Not a lot, but enough to divert some of her attention. Tied up or no, Victoria didn't like the idea of a hostile entity around them only to provide a distraction. Even in her attempts to keep her mind on the spellwork at hand, a thought trickled in that roughly translated to, "Why are we bothering to keep him alive? Why are we bothering to keep him at all?" though she did not let a syllable of this reach the open air. Instead, she kept the issue of their enemy to the others in the party, specifically those who insisted on his presence in the first place.

The Ritual of Identification continued quietly as her free hand slipped into her pocket to produce a small, leather pouch. Victoria made sure to keep physical contact with the hammer, lest the spell fizzle away. Next, she picked up her collection of small bones again and tossed them like dice upon the cloth they were previously wrapped within, noted the results, and smiled. "Almost there," she whispered, her voice melodic and ethereal. One might barely notice the darkening of her eyes, which spread downward as if necrotic energy painted her face with sorrow, contrasting the barely visible tips of her teeth brought about by a grin of budding accomplishment. The ritual was coming to fruition.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: The rain is light but steady now. No more punishing torrent of earthbound water, but a quieter blanket of cold autumnal precipitation.

Time: Afternoon. Quite possibly late afternoon. It's difficult to tell with this level of overcast to the sky.

Ambience: The silversmith's place is warm and dry. Perhaps just a touch too warm, thanks to the pot forge and the press of multiple bodies in a smallish storefront. The acrid smells of heat affecting metal are remarkably faint for such an enterprise, which is a blessing considering the relatively still air, ventilation being minimal as this is technically a jeweler's, not an ironworks. Outside, smaller sounds of people beginning to move about and make their various exclamations barely reached inside.

*****

Jacques kept working as Kathryn apologized and stated her case about getting a more practical weapon for the L'Roses to use to assist in their protection. "You want to keep them safe?" he stated quietly, the bulk of his concentration on the silver he was inlaying, "Get them out of this town and keep them under guard. I don't make weapons here. I'm inlaying existing ones with silver." her jerked a thumb to the daggers, spear, and crossbow now on the counter, adding, "Those simple one are the only ones I have done, and they're for my protection. Bring me something to work with and I'll work with it."

The more-or-less quiet of the room made sense to Jacques. This was the inevitable cooldown after a fight. Tensions were still high, there was promise of more danger in the air, but blood was losing heat and it showed. This was why the conversation between Kathryn and Victoria gave him a little pause. They were nonchalantly discussing certain unfortunate possibilities with picking up a strange item which hinted to have special properties. Moreso, that the other could determine something about it. This was a group heavy with magic, it seemed, which gave Jacques a spot of hope. For his own reasons, the silversmith hadn't demonstrated surprise nor made overt mention, as one of the usual townsfolk might. He did allow this to show on his features with a single occurrence of a tired smile.

The implementation of this ritual spellwork caught his attention and actually got him to pause for a few seconds as he witnessed the exchange and setup for said ritual. "That is a divination ritual?" he queried, then thought better of it and stuck to his own work. His miniature pinpoint of white, metal-liquifying light glowed to life once again, providing detail to the blade he was altering before inserting the fine links of silver chain and passing it through heat. This was going to make a fine item once it was done, and in not too much more time. Were it not for the specialized tools at his disposal, this process would take amazingly more time and effort.

Blindfold still on and ropes still around him, The Guard began to slowly stir from his imposed naptime.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Interior Silversmith's Shop Action: Ritual Casting Identify Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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"Only half," Victoria said absently to Jacques, following his reference to her as an Elf. She was pretty enough, had some features that marked her as separate from Humans at large, and many in these rural towns hadn't ever seen a full-blooded Elf before. Many others merely lumped anyone with a trace of sylvan background under the banner of "Elf", and was done with it. Regardless of reason, Victoria kept her dignity about her and gave a smile to the man, along with a generous benefit of the doubt.

Mentally moving on, it was good news to Victoria that her sword would be done as quickly as it would. This man had picked up some amazing and innovative shortcuts that, despite her lack of knowledge of the jewelrymakers' art, she felt compelled to pen in her journals what these steps looked like, hopefully to figure this out later with someone more knowledgeable in this area than herself. She was ever in search of new lore, and this qualified. Unfortunately, there were other matters more pressing to the issue of their purpose in this town which took her attention. One of them was Kathryn's newly acquired warhammer. She had suspicions. Lacking one of the basics of Wizardly magic, she could not simply release a novice detection in the air. Acquisition of bardic magic never reliably worked that way for Victoria.

There was an element of hesitation on Kathryn's part to turn over the hammer. Victoria raised a quizzical eyebrow at this, hoping that it wasn't a warning sign of a possible complication that she hadn't the resources to handle. She took up her still-damp cloak from its resting spot and held it out in front of her for her very tall associate to deposit the weapon upon, and gave a quiet giggle. Immediately giving an element of contradiction, Victoria's voice took on a more assertive note, "It will be back in your hands in a few minutes, but if you are physically unable to part with it for that long, we have a much bigger problem than trust issues." She tilted her head to the side slightly, unsure if this was going to be an occasion to start running but preparing for it. She even went so far as to give a mental command to her walking barbecue, Morty, just in case she needed a tripping stone to assist in her escape. All the same, her expression remained constant, even matronly, as she waited.

There was enough relief in Victoria's mind to bring on a sigh (though she kept it in) when Kathryn turned the warhammer over. So she could hand it over voluntarily. This was a positive. "Thank you very much, Kat." She returned to her usual cheery, bubbly self, and lay the bundle, hammer and all, on a clear spot on the counter beside them. Victoria walked around to the opposite side so that she could face outward and toward the rest of the party, and began.

The long, slender cloth bag attached to her belt was opened, to reveal what appeared at first glance to be a modified femur or other, similar bone, It was polished and lovingly scrimshawed with patterned, blackened furrows, and had holes drilled along its length in regular intervals. Close inspection would reveal that it was carved into a fine musical instrument very similar to a flute. She placed it alongside the hammer in front of her. Next came out a black square of cloth, which bore a white circle bisected twice by an "X" to form four more-or-less equal sections; what the cloth bore was a series of small bones of not immediate source, including a digit that was blackened as if by fire on one side. She took these up, shook them vigorously, and dropped them upon the black square.

Smiling, Victoria ran a finger along the embellishments on the weapon in front of her and placed a hand upon the haft, straightening it to perpendicular in front of her. One hand remained on the item at all times as sweet but ever-so-quiet vocalizations issued from her, demonstrating a talent for the act that transcended her younger age and seemed almost enhanced by the magic which she began to gather around herself. She appeared perfectly content in this moment.

Being as this was an example of Bardic Ritual Magic specific to her College, it was going to take a little time.




_{(Kathryn's action bunnied with @Remipa Awesome's approval. Thank you, Rem!)}

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Still raining. You can almost sense it slacking up a bit.

Time: Mid to late afternoon.

Ambience: The interior of Jacques Mallard's shop was quite comfortable in comparison to the outdoors. The heat coming off of the pot forge was considerable, even to the point that one close to it may prefer to open a window, though the boards covering said windows made that an impossibility. The quieter patter of raindrops continued to sound across the roof and on the street outside. One keeping to the windows might hear the beginnings of citizenry venturing back into the open spaces, now that the fight is done and blood rinsed away (for the most part) by the weather.

*****

Jacques still worked handily on the long blade in front of him, inscribing flowing designs on the tough, flexible metal with his unique tool set. His hands never stopped moving, but his eyes did dart up to Baronfjord briefly when he spoke of the quality of the weapons on his counter. "Didn't make them," he said quietly, attention on his labors. "Just silvered them. Most of that's for me, when I let out of here. Anyway, suit yourself if you choose to decline. Already paid for by your elf friend, there."

To Kosara, he agreed with a hint of tedium, "I am a smith by trade, yes. My name is Mallard." The comment made that she had a better weapon than the one offered was responded to with a quiet shrug, his eyes still keeping to his work, "Suit yourself." If she didn't want it, he wasn't going to force it on her.

The busy silversmith did take note of a couple of things with approval - the insistence from Kathryn that they not resort to torture, even if he might have some subjective feelings about it in this instance, and the earlier mention from Marita that they not break his leg like another had clamored about. Likewise he was happy to see that his stout door was barred once more. The feeling of personal security allowed him to focus on his work.

With many artistic grooves cut into the metal, as if by a tiny sun on the end of a writing implement, Jacques turned to the spools of fine, braided silver wire and began to unwind it, measuring as he went along. "On a weapon of this length, this part must be done carefully. And I will have to rebalance your pommel, probably your guard. Might take a little longer. Others want something done, need to know. Doors lock at dusk. Let me know how else I can help." A brief pause, even in his work, and Mr. Mallard asked, "What are your plans with that one?" pointing to the tied and blindfolded guard in his shop.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Interior Silversmith's Shop Action: Skill Check - Arcana, Casting Prestidigitation Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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The sudden change to the much warmer temperature inside of Jacques's shop reminded Victoria that she was rather chilly. Her cloak had been thrown back off of her arms as she danced and played her violin in the just-over conflict, and while not soaked to the bone as she was earlier that day (comparatively), there was more discomfort due to wind and weather that she would rather have done without. While the others saw to their affairs, Victoria shed her cloak and unbuttoned her slim jacket to accommodate the warmer air's movement to her core. To this, she added a little twinkle of magic; opening herself up to threads of arcane energy just enough to warm and dry the worst of her clothing.

Finally a little more comfortable, Victoria responded to Kosara with nonchalant words, "Why, it's your coat, silly. No need to apologize to me. Such things can be repaired with little coin when time permits, anyway." A coy look crossed her features for a moment as she finished with, "I confess; it pleases me that you like it enough to say something." Tiny, melodic giggles followed, and then the Bard got to scanning the room again. Since she was here the last time, the illumination had increased enough to reveal a little more in the way of detail, and she wished to learn what could be learned about what looked like magical trappings toward the rear of the room. Much to her disappointment, she could puzzle out nothing more than she did last time. What she did know gave her a quick impulse to pocket what she could and figure it out when she had some privacy - a feeling she quickly quashed as being counterproductive to their present plight.

Instead, she turned and gave a smile to the silversmith as he plied his trade, this time putting his considerable skill to her preferred personal armament. The pattern he was marking out with his enchanted doodad was captivating, to the point that she barely noticed the arrival of their tallest party member, even though she was hauling in an unconscious person and sporting the Constable's hammer. Once everyone was in and the door was barred, Victoria waited for a moment to address Kathryn. "That's quite the souvenir you picked up," she spoke with mild amusement. She gestured in Kat's general direction, giving equal possibility to the weapon or the prisoner being the subject of her declaration. She clarified, "That hammer, I mean. I suspect there is more to it than excellent craftsmanship. Might I give it a closer look?" Mention of the word closer had her lean in and take a slightly conspiratorial tone, implying a greater depth of meaning. Victoria wiggled her fingers in the air with the clear implication of magic, then smiled at her more physically suited associate.