Dane's Classic Fantasy RPG

[Dane]

Story

For many years now, the people of Harrowdale have enjoyed a modest, simple and typically honest existence. There are fishermen by the docks, tradesmen and laborers who often work for the city council and farmers and merchants who come to the city to trade their wares. All of whom meet daily in the popular and friendly trade district. The few nobles and wealthy land-owners are often concerned with council meetings, though there is often little to discuss in a quiet city. The traders and workers often live in the city with their families. The poorer folk on the other hand, are often found in the outskirts of town in somewhat shabbier houses. In the west part of the city is the White Horse Tavern, though handsome and respectable, is also popular among mercenaries and shadier types. Finally, the farmers live yet further out of town, tending to their crops.

Very little ever goes wrong in Harrowdale and the ill tidings of monsters and wars are usually so far away that its inhabitants pay little mind to it. The city maintains trade with most of the many dales in the area, but shares little of the woes of the greater world. In their nature, they have grown quite fond of their comforts and their peace. Fond enough to forget the sacrifices many had made in times of old to buy such idle happiness. Fond enough to forget about the wider world and its evils. Though they had not forgotten about Harrowdale…

Under the cover of night the Mayor of Harrowdale, Herbert Carroll’s home is broken into by dark forces unknown. His daughter Amelia was kidnapped under the city guard’s very nose. A single black rose was left on her bed, with her window wide open. Distraught over the disappearance, the Mayor has issued a reward of 1000 gold pieces for her safe return. Although many are interested in finding the young girl, not least of which, the city guard, it will fall to only a handful to unravel the greater mysteries behind the disappearance.



Information

-You may only post if your character has been approved by me in this thread.
-You may interpret the situation as you see fit. I've been very specific about the event however and I don't want anyone to invent things that go against what I've previously stated.
-Any questions you may have can be directed to me in the OOC thread.

[DedmanWalkin]

"Bumblotto don't eat that!" a furrowed brow bellows from beneath metallic plates.

The happy hound looks up and lets out his tongue and blinks.

"Glittergoldammit, Bumble you stop eating out of the refuse receptacles of that tavern," the little gnome whines, "Don't give me that face!" Waepnok clanks his knees together with a distinct sproing sound as his boots launch him at the masticating mutt. He picks up some parchment from the tipped over trash pails, rolls it up, and gingerly taps the coy cur on his nose.

The dour dog's now tranquil tail droops as he sits down.

"I can't stay mad at you Bumblotto," Waepnok sheepishly says unrolling the parchment. He casually glances at the human verbage displayed. "1000 Gold Pieces! That could put us in mithril or adamantine or Gingleberries!" He rubbed his hands together and pulls two levers on his sides. Metal scrapes on metal as components lock into place. He once more clanks his knees together as he yips, "Come Bumble, we've a problem to fix!" He goes launching into the air while Bumble's barking follows him.

Moments pass as he and Bumble raucously run through the city. They arrive at their destination, the manor of Mayor Carroll. Waepnok sees multiple people already queuing up at the door to investigate.

[Pirateking69]

"Hmmm the moon looks strange tonight." Zeke thought to himself as he sat on a rooftop in Harrowdale. He hears some commotion going in the town square. His curiosity gets the better of him and he jumps down to find out what is going on. As he gets closer he can see a posters hanging everywhere of a 1000 gold-piece award for finding the Mayor's daughter. Zeke decides to read one of the posters it says, "I the Mayor of Harrowdale will pay anybody elf, human, drawf, dark elf ect. to go and find my daughter who has been kidnapped, all i ask in return is that my daughter comes back safely."

"This sounds like this could be a start of a pretty good adventure." said Zeke as he walks off to find out more information.

Zeke arrives at the manor of The Mayor of Harrodale to find out more information before he takes on this adventure. Zeke takes a look around the area he sees a couple of people.

"They muss want the award to." Zeke said

As he is looking around one person so far sticks out to him. A man dressed in a unique outfit with a dog. The only one with a dog.

"hmmm this award will catch quite a few different type of people." Zeke thinks to himself.

[Power NeXus]

Jayar sat silently with his feet on the table, and a pint of mead in one hand. He was in his home away from home. The White Horse Tavern. He was one of the regulars there. Everyone knew the Tavern was the place to go to find a merc or two ready for a job.

Though the availability of this most recent job was hardly kept a private matter.

The Mayor's daughter was missing. A thousand pieces of gold was the prize. All the mercenaries and hunters for a league in any direction knew about this job, and were already preparing to set off in search of her.

Jayar took a long draught of mead, and adjusted his feet on the table. He wasn't about to be part of the rabble that sets off without a plan. He was the best. He always had a plan, and he always beat the others to the prize. Now he was just surveying the competition.

Two mercs in separate corners, apparently planning to work alone. A group of four at a table off to the side, drawing up plans together. One old veteran sharpening his sword in the middle of the room in an attempt to scare off the competition. And then himself, in a corner of his own.

The old one with the sword was starting to make a ruckus. Whether he had had too much to drink, or if he was just trying to start a fight on purpose, Jayar wasn't sure. Jayar furrowed his brow and watched the man. Boisterous laughing, displaying his sword, mocking the others as they draw up their own plans. Typical intimidation tactics. The two loners in the corners were looking tense. The group in the middle was looking haughty and ready for a fight. Jayar waited and watched half-interestedly to see how it would play out.

One of the men from the group stood up to confront the old wild man. He was forced to sit down by another part of his group. Then that man was laid out by a single punch from the old guy. Now a fight was breaking loose. Not only between the group and the old wild guy, but within the group as well. The brawl didn't last long. At the end of the fight, the old man stood victorious (albeit bloodied). Two members of the group were unconcious. One had run away. The last was on the floor in submission. One of the loners in the corner had been injured by a large chair flung in his direction. The other one was sitting low at his table, hoping not to be noticed.

The old wild man had clearly become the dominant figure in this fight. Jayar saw this as his time to step in. He stood up from his seat, drained the last bit of his mead, and strode quickly over to the old man (who now had a look that said, "Who does this tiny motherf**ker think he is? I'm the king here."). The old man raised his fists for another fight. He barely had time to see Jayar's foot striking at blinding speed into his solar plexus. He didn't see the left hook to his temple, right elbow to his jaw, heel to his kneecap, or chop to his throat. For that matter, half the patrons in the bar didn't see all of that. It all just happened too fast for them to follow.

The old man stumbled back, moaning in pain and gasping for breath. Jayar almost laughed. He was a tough old guy. He would live. Jayar then decided to finish him off with a rather iconic bar room brawl move. With a strength that greatly belied his size, Jayar lifted the man into the air, and threw him across the room and through the window.

Without a word, Jayar stood rooted in the spot. He turned very slowly, making steady eye contact with every single person in the bar, one by one. They all, without exception, gave off signs of fear and submission. Jayar went to the bar, paid his tab, and left without a word. Now that he had ensured that these people wouldn't get in his way, it was time to draw up plans of his own.

[Lunacyde Prime]

Knock, knock, knock came a heavy rapping at the door. A rugged lantern sat on the stiff oak table, it’s orange light bouncing disfigured shadows on the wall as the tallow feeds it’s miniature flame. A large grizzled man sits in the corner, darkness falling across his expressionless face, and he waits. Knock,knock,knock,knock,knock comes a second barrage of urgent beating upon the weathered cabin door. There is silence for a fleeting moment, the only sound the shallow whisper of his breath, and then a loud crack pierces the night. The door heaves and splinters as a stocky shoulder comes plowing through it’s wind-beaten planks.

The sprawling mountain of a man collapses on the floor viloently, shaking the floorboards and causing the dishes to tremble in their places. His eyes are wide-open, his face seemingly trapped in an expression of shock and surprise. Slowly a new figure slinks through the opening where the door stood but a second earlier. Drapped in a cloak and hooded the figure spies his fallen compatriot, but makes no movement to aid him. Instead he sidesteps the limp body and makes his way swiftly towards the corner where the man sits motionless, shrouded in shadow.

“I wouldn’t step much closer if you value your limbs assassin.” A voice springs from the dark. “This cabin is booby-trapped as your unfortunate friend has already found out.”

“ I am no assassin sir”, came a soft voice from under the hood. “ I am Simon Forlan, an investigator from the near village of Hallowdale. I have heard many tales of your exploits as a mercenary and assassin, and I wish to hire you under my employ as protection.”

“You’ve been misinformed young detective, I am retired, and no longer lease myself or my skills in the art of death.”

“I only ask for protection as I move about the countryside in pursuit of an exceptional bounty investigaing the disappearance of none other than the Mayor of Hallowdale himself. Surely the community will be grateful for his return and compensate you accordingly in addition to your pay from myself.”

“The only thing I wish from the people of Hallowdale is to be left alone. Leave the way you entered and do not disturb me again”, he growled darkly as he lifted a brown bottle to his lips.

The cloaked man stood silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, lips tightly pursed. His eyes ran slowly over the dark man sitting in the chair. He was dressed in a brown tunic and slighlty darker brown pants, high boots laced tightly around legs like tree trunks, his appearance rugged and unkempt, a bit of peppered stubble covered his face. The investigator unclenched his jaw and open his mouth once more. "Perhaps I have something that would interest you much more than gold or fame?"

The figure in the chair's head cocked slightly, though his weary expression did not vanish. "And what would that be?" he replied in a gravelly tone not trying at all to hide the aire of irritation in his voice.

"The means to bring back your wife", the hooded man said soflty, his lips curling in anticipation. The light of the lantern flickered over his face casting an ominous shadow silhouetted in orange light upon the wall.

" And how do you figure that one detective?", came the stern reply as he tried to hide the emotion flooding his face for the first time in the conversation.

"Simple", he replied, "Your story is known far and wide. You are the legendary Black Veil. The list of men you have killed surpasses all others, and yet you suddenly quit the profession at the height of your career. You retreated to the shadows of this dark wood to wallow in self-loathing and drink--

"Hold your tongue if you wish to fare me well with the life still in your limbs. The years of solitude have not dulled my wit, nor has the drink decayed my faculties. Your goading does not bear well for you Simon of Harrowdale."

"Please, if I may, let me continue, I shall proceed more cautiously with my wordcraft this time as I mean no offense to yourself or your reputation. I merely mean to infer that one does not simply give up such a life at the drop of a hat for no reason at all."

"My reasons are my own, and it's better that they stay that way", came his melancholy response. "Leave me here to my own"

"But I have deduced the cause of your pain, and more importantly it has been revealed to me the cure. I can indeed reinstate your lovely wife, taken so abruptly from this world, among the living. All I require is your aid in finding the missing Mayor and protection along the way."

"Assuming I believe you, which I don't... how exactly do you plan to achieve this great cheat of death?"

The hooded figure rocked back on his heals, folding his hands together contently. "I have reason to believe that the very same thief who has kidnapped the Mayor of Harrowdale has also stolen a secret map from the city treasury, a parchment detailing the location of the ressurection Stone, a powerful magical artifact that grants it's wielder immortality and immense power over death. If we are to capture the suspect I shall allow you to retain the scroll."

"And what if this is a ruse? What if there is no map, no stone? Why should I believe you?"

"Because you have no choice Connor, The only way to find out is to apprehend the criminal, and the only way to do that is to join me. I'll give you till dawn to think about it, I can wait no longer. The trail is already growing cold and I have much to do. I must meet my tracker as well as procure new muscle as you have already struck down my first brute. Meet me by daybreak at the edge of the forest near the intersection of the Four Winds if you accept this opportunity to rectify the past."

With that Simon Forlan turned to leave, his cloak snapped as he strode sharply towards the door. Connor Graves watched this for a moment without moving, his eyes burning with intensity,

"Your friend over there isn't dead". Simon stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to the shadowy corner. "He's simply paralyzed", Connor revealed slowly. "Hit him with a small dose of stage one Wyvern Venom. Miraculous stuff actually." He mused, partially losing his angered expression. "It renders the victim completely paralyzed within seconds, but doesn't inhibit necessary bodily functions. Gives the younger Wyverns time to play with their food while keeping it fresh I suppose."

"An amusing anecdote I'm sure", replied Simon for the first time displaying a sense of impatience. "However he is of little use to me now in such a state, I must be on my way if I wish to find a suitable replacement."

"You don't understand detective, I've learned to become less lethal over the years. Unaided he would slowly regain his ability to move in about a week, however I do possess an anti-venom. To save you the trouble of finding a new brute I'll administer it to him. However in return I require you to provide me half of the pay you would have used to hire the new muscle and I will need it up front. I wish to use it on supplies."

[Beatboks]

After a long days travel Bokar savors the broth on the table before him in the white horse tavern. He savors even more when he realizes that with what little gold he has left it might be the last tasty morsel he can enjoy for a while. Yes when I finish this, I'm going to have to set my mind to acquiring some funds. Money may not make the world go around, as my old masters would say but it surely puts food in the belly. he finishes of his Broth, and the cool ale he has with it and slowly makes his way to the door. Fortune smiles on me once again he thinks to himself as he sees the notice of a reward offered. A 1000 gold pieces would see me comfortably fed and sheltered for many a season. He calls to the bar keep, "where might one find this Herbert Carroll’s home. Once he has his answer he makes his way out the door. He lifts his necklace and peers into the crystal at it's end, searching. I see many after the reward being offered. If I'm to have an edge, best be taking my crystal near where the girl was taken. Maybe I can see a piece of where she might be and get their first.