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TOPIC | {D&D} Princes of the Apocalypse [IC]
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[b]Princes of the Apocalypse[/b] [i]D&D based RP -- [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/rp/2565294/1]OOC thread[/url][/i] A terrible threat gathers in the North. Throughout this region of the Forgotten Realms, savage marauders bring destruction. Monsters are on the prowl, preying on flocks, rampaging through croplands, and attacking homesteads and travelers. In settlements, discord and suspicion grow. Sinister strangers lurk in the shadows, whispering about how everything is soon to change. This year brought an unseasonably warm and stormy spring. Tales spread of flooding, windstorms, wildfires, and tremors. Our heroes find themselves in Red Larch, a little town on the Long Road in the Desserin Valley. In the distance, the Sumber Hills rise to meet the sky. Red Larch is a few days' travel from any major city -- Waterdeep to the south and Yartar to the north -- a quiet place with only one inn, the Swinging Sword, outside which they now stand. Next door to the inn is a small temple, while across the street sits a tavern, the Helm at Highsun. Traveling to Red Larch, our heroes could hardly avoid hearing roadside gossip about an important caravan from the city of Mirabar, a trade delegation traveling south through the Sumber Hills to Waterdeep. The caravan should arrive in Red Larch any day now -- in fact, some people are growing worried that it hasn't shown up yet. Rumors also fly about fierce raiders, roaming monsters, suspicious strangers, and unseasonable weather. ------------- @avespanthera Hush's found family of unwanted children was torn apart when strangers kidnapped two of them, leaving their home blasted and burning in their wake. Hush followed their trail to the Sumber Hills, but there it seemed to end; he's ended up in Red Larch as he searches for further information. The main clue he has, besides the kidnappers' affinity for fire, is a symbol seen on their robes -- the lower half of a circle with three lines emerging from it, like so. [img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/0c7a0b088e2c29f4298867627d23474b/tumblr_pi71h9KYuM1thgkkro1_100.jpg[/img] ------------ @AbyssRanger A smith's apprentice tearfully appealed to Fus, as a mighty warrior, for help: thugs murdered his master and stole her greatest work, a beautiful sword. Fus tracked the thugs to the Desserin Valley, but isn't sure where to go from there, and has ended up in Red Larch as he searches. He knows the thugs were nautical men, sailors of some type, though certainly not reputable ones. And the smith's apprentice drew for him a symbol that one of them wore on a pendant: a sign like an hourglass with the top line missing. [img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/9ec74d9dd24e9a77ac261e2464d8805e/tumblr_pi71h9KYuM1thgkkro2_100.jpg[/img] -------------- @Zerohour Reed's druidic circle sent her to the Sumber Hills to investigate the Circle of the Scarlet Moon, a mysterious group of druids that emerged only recently. These strangers claim to have magic unknown to other druids: a ritual that can restore the balance of nature in the Desserin Valley, which has gone askew. Reed knows that the Circle meets at Scarlet Moon Hall, but she's missing a key piece of information: the hall's exact location. It's somewhere in the Sumber Hills, but where? Maybe Red Larch holds the answer. ------------------- @Boborc Recently, bandits invaded Grigsby's temple and killed their sister, Yuuna. Grigsby set out to catch these murderers, a trail that led them to Red Larch but no farther. An earth genasi led the killers, who used unusual earth-based magic in their attack. Grigsby managed to catch part of the genasi's name: Vizann. Perhaps someone in Red Larch will know where to find him. ---------------------- @Justdevon Within the last few months, representatives of a fire cult sought to recruit Reverence, assuming that as a tiefling, she would share their affinity for destructive flames. They were wrong. The cultists told Reverence they were based on the Sumber Hills, so here she is in Red Larch. They never mentioned the name of their cult, but they did show Reverence its symbol: [img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/0c7a0b088e2c29f4298867627d23474b/tumblr_pi71h9KYuM1thgkkro1_100.jpg[/img]
Princes of the Apocalypse
D&D based RP -- OOC thread

A terrible threat gathers in the North. Throughout this region of the Forgotten Realms, savage marauders bring destruction. Monsters are on the prowl, preying on flocks, rampaging through croplands, and attacking homesteads and travelers. In settlements, discord and suspicion grow. Sinister strangers lurk in the shadows, whispering about how everything is soon to change. This year brought an unseasonably warm and stormy spring. Tales spread of flooding, windstorms, wildfires, and tremors.

Our heroes find themselves in Red Larch, a little town on the Long Road in the Desserin Valley. In the distance, the Sumber Hills rise to meet the sky. Red Larch is a few days' travel from any major city -- Waterdeep to the south and Yartar to the north -- a quiet place with only one inn, the Swinging Sword, outside which they now stand. Next door to the inn is a small temple, while across the street sits a tavern, the Helm at Highsun.

Traveling to Red Larch, our heroes could hardly avoid hearing roadside gossip about an important caravan from the city of Mirabar, a trade delegation traveling south through the Sumber Hills to Waterdeep. The caravan should arrive in Red Larch any day now -- in fact, some people are growing worried that it hasn't shown up yet. Rumors also fly about fierce raiders, roaming monsters, suspicious strangers, and unseasonable weather.



@avespanthera

Hush's found family of unwanted children was torn apart when strangers kidnapped two of them, leaving their home blasted and burning in their wake. Hush followed their trail to the Sumber Hills, but there it seemed to end; he's ended up in Red Larch as he searches for further information. The main clue he has, besides the kidnappers' affinity for fire, is a symbol seen on their robes -- the lower half of a circle with three lines emerging from it, like so.

tumblr_pi71h9KYuM1thgkkro1_100.jpg



@AbyssRanger

A smith's apprentice tearfully appealed to Fus, as a mighty warrior, for help: thugs murdered his master and stole her greatest work, a beautiful sword. Fus tracked the thugs to the Desserin Valley, but isn't sure where to go from there, and has ended up in Red Larch as he searches. He knows the thugs were nautical men, sailors of some type, though certainly not reputable ones. And the smith's apprentice drew for him a symbol that one of them wore on a pendant: a sign like an hourglass with the top line missing.

tumblr_pi71h9KYuM1thgkkro2_100.jpg



@Zerohour

Reed's druidic circle sent her to the Sumber Hills to investigate the Circle of the Scarlet Moon, a mysterious group of druids that emerged only recently. These strangers claim to have magic unknown to other druids: a ritual that can restore the balance of nature in the Desserin Valley, which has gone askew. Reed knows that the Circle meets at Scarlet Moon Hall, but she's missing a key piece of information: the hall's exact location. It's somewhere in the Sumber Hills, but where? Maybe Red Larch holds the answer.



@Boborc

Recently, bandits invaded Grigsby's temple and killed their sister, Yuuna. Grigsby set out to catch these murderers, a trail that led them to Red Larch but no farther. An earth genasi led the killers, who used unusual earth-based magic in their attack. Grigsby managed to catch part of the genasi's name: Vizann. Perhaps someone in Red Larch will know where to find him.



@Justdevon

Within the last few months, representatives of a fire cult sought to recruit Reverence, assuming that as a tiefling, she would share their affinity for destructive flames. They were wrong. The cultists told Reverence they were based on the Sumber Hills, so here she is in Red Larch. They never mentioned the name of their cult, but they did show Reverence its symbol:

tumblr_pi71h9KYuM1thgkkro1_100.jpg
The already ever-present fire of anger that burned in Hush's core lit up like a pyre when he came home to find the destruction the kidnappers left in their wake, along with two of the kids under his care being taken. He very nearly reignited the fire they started when he stepped, barefoot, into the wrecked building. The intense anger pushed him to action before the embers of his ruined home had even gone out; he knew Natia could handle that better than he could, and someone needed to find (and then eviscerate) the thugs who did it.

In spite of the burning rage, though, the approach to Red Larch was almost more nerve-wracking than any other part of Hush's current ordeal. He'd lived for too long completely away from any towns, and just seeing a hub of people now set him on edge before he ever set foot within it.

Form hunched, eyes narrowed, he stalked the streets on the outskirts of the town. He had to look around, find somewhere to ask for information, but he just kept stalling. For the better part of an hour he paced the outer streets, searched for the scent he'd been following, but avoided even being seen by anyone.

Finally, he pushed himself to move further into town and find somewhere to start asking questions. Hackles up under his plaited hair, he made his way towards a bustling tavern. Already, on his way there, he could hear people whispering, and see the looks he was getting. It made him even more tense than he'd already been and he could feel his skin heating up. It's reactions like these that convinced him to avoid civilization as much as possible, but clearly that couldn't last forever.

Ducking into the tavern, he found a seat in a less-lit corner, and pulled a small piece of paper from his bag. On it was sketched a symbol; one of the other kids drew it, something the kidnappers had on their robes. A half circle, with three lines, one on top and two on either side. He'd never seen it before, but he tried to connect it to something--anything--in his mind as he stared down at the paper.

"Can... can I get'cha anythin'?" A nervous-looking barmaid had approached the table while Hush wasn't paying attention, occasionally glancing back at the man behind the bar who'd clearly pressed her to go speak to the tiefling. Hush paused, looking up at her silently for a moment before responding. His hands moved quickly in what, to her, must have looked like very strange gestures, before softly glowing words formed in the air in front of Hush's hands.

'Mead. Stew.' Hush watched her a moment more as she stared wide-eyed at the words, before she turned and trotted off to talk to the bartender. He gave a disgruntled huff as he looked back down at the drawing of the symbol. He wasn't getting anywhere, but a glance around the bar didn't fill him with any confidence that anyone there could answer his questions... let alone would be willing to talk to him at all.

Not for the first or last time, he cursed his appearance for all the trouble it caused him. It brought him nothing good, no matter what he did, and this time would be no different.

((edited this a bit, might've written it all too quickly.))
The already ever-present fire of anger that burned in Hush's core lit up like a pyre when he came home to find the destruction the kidnappers left in their wake, along with two of the kids under his care being taken. He very nearly reignited the fire they started when he stepped, barefoot, into the wrecked building. The intense anger pushed him to action before the embers of his ruined home had even gone out; he knew Natia could handle that better than he could, and someone needed to find (and then eviscerate) the thugs who did it.

In spite of the burning rage, though, the approach to Red Larch was almost more nerve-wracking than any other part of Hush's current ordeal. He'd lived for too long completely away from any towns, and just seeing a hub of people now set him on edge before he ever set foot within it.

Form hunched, eyes narrowed, he stalked the streets on the outskirts of the town. He had to look around, find somewhere to ask for information, but he just kept stalling. For the better part of an hour he paced the outer streets, searched for the scent he'd been following, but avoided even being seen by anyone.

Finally, he pushed himself to move further into town and find somewhere to start asking questions. Hackles up under his plaited hair, he made his way towards a bustling tavern. Already, on his way there, he could hear people whispering, and see the looks he was getting. It made him even more tense than he'd already been and he could feel his skin heating up. It's reactions like these that convinced him to avoid civilization as much as possible, but clearly that couldn't last forever.

Ducking into the tavern, he found a seat in a less-lit corner, and pulled a small piece of paper from his bag. On it was sketched a symbol; one of the other kids drew it, something the kidnappers had on their robes. A half circle, with three lines, one on top and two on either side. He'd never seen it before, but he tried to connect it to something--anything--in his mind as he stared down at the paper.

"Can... can I get'cha anythin'?" A nervous-looking barmaid had approached the table while Hush wasn't paying attention, occasionally glancing back at the man behind the bar who'd clearly pressed her to go speak to the tiefling. Hush paused, looking up at her silently for a moment before responding. His hands moved quickly in what, to her, must have looked like very strange gestures, before softly glowing words formed in the air in front of Hush's hands.

'Mead. Stew.' Hush watched her a moment more as she stared wide-eyed at the words, before she turned and trotted off to talk to the bartender. He gave a disgruntled huff as he looked back down at the drawing of the symbol. He wasn't getting anywhere, but a glance around the bar didn't fill him with any confidence that anyone there could answer his questions... let alone would be willing to talk to him at all.

Not for the first or last time, he cursed his appearance for all the trouble it caused him. It brought him nothing good, no matter what he did, and this time would be no different.

((edited this a bit, might've written it all too quickly.))
Quite honestly the vary sight of Red Larch was like sudden rainfall amid an arid, drought-ravaged land. Revitalizing! Life-giving! Just thinking of all the merriment, ale, and stories he could experience now that he was about to be near people once more stirred him onward towards the small town. Oh, and a decent meal would be most welcome. It would be the first he'd had after a fair bit of traveling. Not that he was particularly picky with his meals. But a delicious roast with carrots and potatoes or something of that like was worlds better than an under-seasoned rabbit he might have cooked up on the road. But that wasn't to say that he didn't like rabbit, he just preferred it to be properly seasoned. Catching animals was something he could do but knowing what plants are deadly and which could add some nice flavor? Well, he'd probably have poisoned himself long ago if he had tried.

But now was, unfortunately, no the time for mingling with the locals and having a jolly old time in the tavern. Well, maybe there was a little time but only a little! It was his entire reason for coming to this area in the first place, to aid Jarrod the blacksmith apprentice in recovering his master's sword from the villains who slew him. Such a heartfelt and tearful request was just something that Fus could ignore. He was not afraid to admit that even he shed a few tears for the poor apprentice smith's story. To lose both one's beloved teacher and that teacher's life's work all in one fell swoop was far too much for one person to handle alone. Thus, he set out in aid of Jarrod! That scum which had stolen far too much from the apprentice would soon taste the steel of his axe.

That is...if he could find the group that did it. Quite honestly, he didn't have much to go on. A drawing of a pendent and the clue of them being sailors of some kind. Asking around about sailors hadn't turned up too much on its own. It was only when he had made inquiries about the pendant that he was able to get leads as to where they went. But, somehow, they had constantly remained ahead of him throughout his time tracking them down. Oh well, perhaps someone in the tavern in town would know? He might stay a while and enjoy this little bit of civilization while he was here.

Upon entering the town, Fus certainly was a noticeable sight. Silver scales and metal armor gleaming in the sunlight, making more noise than a busy kitchen with the various clanking he was doing. Definitely not inconspicuous in the least. more than enough to draw attention towards himself. From the stared he got, the half-dragon assumed that they didn't get many dragonborn around these parts. Despite his actual heritage most would assume he was one of them, so usually people reacted to him as if he was a dragonborn. The looks themselves varied from wariness to stunned to curiosity and even fascination. Quite the friendly sort, Fus nodded and bid greetings to just about everyone he passed. Honestly, he was just happy to be around other again after being alone while traveling. While being alone was something he didn't completely mind, he reveled in camaraderie!

Finding what he could only assume to be the local tavern, the Helm at Highsun, and proceeded inside. Looking within, he sees a decent number of people aside form the owner and staff. Most seem to be locals but one definitely stood out. A blue-faced, three eyed feral tiefling with a wild mane of hair. Rather interesting to see in this little town but Fus paid him no mind at the moment. There were more pressing matter to attend to. Making his way right up to the bar, he looked to the man standing behind it as he sat down.

"My good man, I have been traveling for quite some time. I would like a tankard of ale and some of whatever that wonderful smell is." The half-dragon began before reaching into his pack for a scrap of paper he had on him. As the owner of a tavern, any thugs passing though might have stopped in here for a drink and the owner might have seen them. "Ah, yes. But before that, I would very much like to occupy your time for a moment." He placed the piece of paper with the symbol on the bar and tapped it with a clawed finger. "Have you seen this symbol on a pendant of a passing sailor? I have business with this man and his fellows, so I would very much appreciate any information you might have about them." He attempted to see if the owner of the inn knew anything.

((Please let me know if I did this wrong and I will definitely change it!))
Quite honestly the vary sight of Red Larch was like sudden rainfall amid an arid, drought-ravaged land. Revitalizing! Life-giving! Just thinking of all the merriment, ale, and stories he could experience now that he was about to be near people once more stirred him onward towards the small town. Oh, and a decent meal would be most welcome. It would be the first he'd had after a fair bit of traveling. Not that he was particularly picky with his meals. But a delicious roast with carrots and potatoes or something of that like was worlds better than an under-seasoned rabbit he might have cooked up on the road. But that wasn't to say that he didn't like rabbit, he just preferred it to be properly seasoned. Catching animals was something he could do but knowing what plants are deadly and which could add some nice flavor? Well, he'd probably have poisoned himself long ago if he had tried.

But now was, unfortunately, no the time for mingling with the locals and having a jolly old time in the tavern. Well, maybe there was a little time but only a little! It was his entire reason for coming to this area in the first place, to aid Jarrod the blacksmith apprentice in recovering his master's sword from the villains who slew him. Such a heartfelt and tearful request was just something that Fus could ignore. He was not afraid to admit that even he shed a few tears for the poor apprentice smith's story. To lose both one's beloved teacher and that teacher's life's work all in one fell swoop was far too much for one person to handle alone. Thus, he set out in aid of Jarrod! That scum which had stolen far too much from the apprentice would soon taste the steel of his axe.

That is...if he could find the group that did it. Quite honestly, he didn't have much to go on. A drawing of a pendent and the clue of them being sailors of some kind. Asking around about sailors hadn't turned up too much on its own. It was only when he had made inquiries about the pendant that he was able to get leads as to where they went. But, somehow, they had constantly remained ahead of him throughout his time tracking them down. Oh well, perhaps someone in the tavern in town would know? He might stay a while and enjoy this little bit of civilization while he was here.

Upon entering the town, Fus certainly was a noticeable sight. Silver scales and metal armor gleaming in the sunlight, making more noise than a busy kitchen with the various clanking he was doing. Definitely not inconspicuous in the least. more than enough to draw attention towards himself. From the stared he got, the half-dragon assumed that they didn't get many dragonborn around these parts. Despite his actual heritage most would assume he was one of them, so usually people reacted to him as if he was a dragonborn. The looks themselves varied from wariness to stunned to curiosity and even fascination. Quite the friendly sort, Fus nodded and bid greetings to just about everyone he passed. Honestly, he was just happy to be around other again after being alone while traveling. While being alone was something he didn't completely mind, he reveled in camaraderie!

Finding what he could only assume to be the local tavern, the Helm at Highsun, and proceeded inside. Looking within, he sees a decent number of people aside form the owner and staff. Most seem to be locals but one definitely stood out. A blue-faced, three eyed feral tiefling with a wild mane of hair. Rather interesting to see in this little town but Fus paid him no mind at the moment. There were more pressing matter to attend to. Making his way right up to the bar, he looked to the man standing behind it as he sat down.

"My good man, I have been traveling for quite some time. I would like a tankard of ale and some of whatever that wonderful smell is." The half-dragon began before reaching into his pack for a scrap of paper he had on him. As the owner of a tavern, any thugs passing though might have stopped in here for a drink and the owner might have seen them. "Ah, yes. But before that, I would very much like to occupy your time for a moment." He placed the piece of paper with the symbol on the bar and tapped it with a clawed finger. "Have you seen this symbol on a pendant of a passing sailor? I have business with this man and his fellows, so I would very much appreciate any information you might have about them." He attempted to see if the owner of the inn knew anything.

((Please let me know if I did this wrong and I will definitely change it!))
fancy_sixgill_shark_by_scryzzethekat-dbgpc9o.png
Reverence was used to the hustle of inner city streets, and had learned to move around without being seen. Even with her pink skin and hair, she moved around the city unnoticed, occasionally relieving some townsfolk of their well-earned coins. Her usual cons repeated time after time, with her using the opportunity to ask around about the symbol they'd given her. But still, she had learned nothing, so she moved towards the outskirts of Red Larch, hoping to find anyone who could give her a piece of information.

Keeping her head down and her hood up, she worked her way around the city and into a small tavern. The thought of entering the seemingly busy building sent shivers down her spine. She wouldn't be able to fool that many people without someone noticing, and the idea of seeing the people inside react to her Tiefling self? The notion did not sound all that great, but she was pretty sure the citizens could hear her stomach rumbling from miles away.

She pushed open the door, avoiding the quick glances that the patrons sent her way. Her blacked out eyes scanned the interior, making note of all the persons sitting inside. A blue Tiefling sat in the far corner, and up at the bar sat a half-dragon man, speaking to the bartender. Neither of them appeared to be from around the city, judging by the confused (and somewhat startled) looks they were receiving. She moved swiftly towards a small, round table in the far left corner of the room, pulling her hood down as she did so.

She quietly held up one of her fingers, calling over the barmaid. "I'll have whatever stew you're serving, if you wouldn't mind darling," she cooed, flashing a charming smile as she did so. She turned her head down and pulled out the piece of paper she had in her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing. That semi-circle with three lines had been plaguing her mind for months on end, and she still hadn't found any worthwhile information. A sigh escaped her lips as she crumbled the paper back up, shoving it back into her pocket.
Reverence was used to the hustle of inner city streets, and had learned to move around without being seen. Even with her pink skin and hair, she moved around the city unnoticed, occasionally relieving some townsfolk of their well-earned coins. Her usual cons repeated time after time, with her using the opportunity to ask around about the symbol they'd given her. But still, she had learned nothing, so she moved towards the outskirts of Red Larch, hoping to find anyone who could give her a piece of information.

Keeping her head down and her hood up, she worked her way around the city and into a small tavern. The thought of entering the seemingly busy building sent shivers down her spine. She wouldn't be able to fool that many people without someone noticing, and the idea of seeing the people inside react to her Tiefling self? The notion did not sound all that great, but she was pretty sure the citizens could hear her stomach rumbling from miles away.

She pushed open the door, avoiding the quick glances that the patrons sent her way. Her blacked out eyes scanned the interior, making note of all the persons sitting inside. A blue Tiefling sat in the far corner, and up at the bar sat a half-dragon man, speaking to the bartender. Neither of them appeared to be from around the city, judging by the confused (and somewhat startled) looks they were receiving. She moved swiftly towards a small, round table in the far left corner of the room, pulling her hood down as she did so.

She quietly held up one of her fingers, calling over the barmaid. "I'll have whatever stew you're serving, if you wouldn't mind darling," she cooed, flashing a charming smile as she did so. She turned her head down and pulled out the piece of paper she had in her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing. That semi-circle with three lines had been plaguing her mind for months on end, and she still hadn't found any worthwhile information. A sigh escaped her lips as she crumbled the paper back up, shoving it back into her pocket.
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[quote]He attempted to see if the owner of the inn knew anything.[/quote] The barkeep barely looks at Fus as he passes down a tankard of ale and bowl of stew. Then he pauses, registering the half-dragon's appearance properly; he appears taken aback, and it's a moment before he can apply himself to Fus' question. "Can't say I've seen anything like that, no." As the barkeep speaks, a second, rather rotund man walks out behind the bar, bringing a fresh keg of ale from the cellar. The barkeep turns to this man. "Hey, Justran! You ever see anything like this symbol?" Setting down the keg of ale, Justran comes over to look at Fus' drawing. He shakes his head. "Nope, never seen its like." However, based on his Insight score, Fus does [i]not [/i]believe Justran. @AbyssRanger --------------- @avespanthera @Justdevon (and anyone else who enters the tavern) The tavern is quite busy, filled with both locals and travelers. Any character may overhear that the tavern is especially busy right now because a recent fire put the kitchen at the inn across the street, the Swinging Sword, out of commission, and those staying at the inn now have to either grill food on cookfires in the yard or buy it from the Helm. Those with the coin elect to buy from the Helm. It's also where many locals choose to unwind. The crowd isn't rowdy right now, but neither is it a refined dining environment, and the cudgels behind the bar look well-used. There's a lot of gossip being swapped here in the tavern, and it's hard to sort the rumors that might be relevant from the chaff. The characters might hear some of the following, though: The Tarnlar children say there's plague out by Lance Rock. Vallivoe has some kind of rare and expensive dwarven book he's been showing off. Pell saw a ghost not far from town. Strange masked figures watch the quarry workers at night.
Quote:
He attempted to see if the owner of the inn knew anything.

The barkeep barely looks at Fus as he passes down a tankard of ale and bowl of stew. Then he pauses, registering the half-dragon's appearance properly; he appears taken aback, and it's a moment before he can apply himself to Fus' question.

"Can't say I've seen anything like that, no." As the barkeep speaks, a second, rather rotund man walks out behind the bar, bringing a fresh keg of ale from the cellar. The barkeep turns to this man. "Hey, Justran! You ever see anything like this symbol?"

Setting down the keg of ale, Justran comes over to look at Fus' drawing. He shakes his head. "Nope, never seen its like."

However, based on his Insight score, Fus does not believe Justran.

@AbyssRanger



@avespanthera @Justdevon (and anyone else who enters the tavern)

The tavern is quite busy, filled with both locals and travelers. Any character may overhear that the tavern is especially busy right now because a recent fire put the kitchen at the inn across the street, the Swinging Sword, out of commission, and those staying at the inn now have to either grill food on cookfires in the yard or buy it from the Helm. Those with the coin elect to buy from the Helm. It's also where many locals choose to unwind. The crowd isn't rowdy right now, but neither is it a refined dining environment, and the cudgels behind the bar look well-used.

There's a lot of gossip being swapped here in the tavern, and it's hard to sort the rumors that might be relevant from the chaff. The characters might hear some of the following, though:

The Tarnlar children say there's plague out by Lance Rock.

Vallivoe has some kind of rare and expensive dwarven book he's been showing off.

Pell saw a ghost not far from town.

Strange masked figures watch the quarry workers at night.
@Justdevon

Hush's ears twitch as his attention shifts between the various conversations, trying to catch anything of interest.

His focus is drawn by the two stand-out characters that enter the tavern, though. A dragonborn--he's only seen one before, who was nothing like the silver-scaled reptile now speaking to the barkeep. The other, he notices by scent first, already familiar with the general smell of tieflings. He lets his gaze linger on Reverence for a moment, before he's distracted by the same nervous barmaid delivering his order.

Nodding, and paying right away, he practically inhales the stew with little regard for chewing. He grabs the mug of mead, and drawing, and carefully makes his way over towards the other tiefling. If anyone's going to give him the time of day without turning it into a fight, it's someone else society tends to reject. He places his mug and the drawing on the table in front of her, quick to start moving his hands afterwards.

'Have you seen this before?' The words hang in the air as long as needed for the smaller tiefling to read them, at which point they disappear like smoke in a breeze. The stew sits heavy in Hush's stomach as he waits for an answer. This entire situation makes his guts knot up with anxiety, but all that shows on the outside is a twitch in his tail and his ears staying down and slightly pinned back.

If she doesn't know anything, he'll have to ask someone else. Maybe the barkeep. The knot in his stomach tightens at the idea of having to deal with the reactions he's sure he'll get. It's probably going to take a lot for him to keep from drawing one of his weapons.
@Justdevon

Hush's ears twitch as his attention shifts between the various conversations, trying to catch anything of interest.

His focus is drawn by the two stand-out characters that enter the tavern, though. A dragonborn--he's only seen one before, who was nothing like the silver-scaled reptile now speaking to the barkeep. The other, he notices by scent first, already familiar with the general smell of tieflings. He lets his gaze linger on Reverence for a moment, before he's distracted by the same nervous barmaid delivering his order.

Nodding, and paying right away, he practically inhales the stew with little regard for chewing. He grabs the mug of mead, and drawing, and carefully makes his way over towards the other tiefling. If anyone's going to give him the time of day without turning it into a fight, it's someone else society tends to reject. He places his mug and the drawing on the table in front of her, quick to start moving his hands afterwards.

'Have you seen this before?' The words hang in the air as long as needed for the smaller tiefling to read them, at which point they disappear like smoke in a breeze. The stew sits heavy in Hush's stomach as he waits for an answer. This entire situation makes his guts knot up with anxiety, but all that shows on the outside is a twitch in his tail and his ears staying down and slightly pinned back.

If she doesn't know anything, he'll have to ask someone else. Maybe the barkeep. The knot in his stomach tightens at the idea of having to deal with the reactions he's sure he'll get. It's probably going to take a lot for him to keep from drawing one of his weapons.
When the ale and stew are set before Fus, the half-dragon eagerly digs into the meal with hunger befitting his stature. The stew isn't so much spooned into his mouth so much as it is poured into his gaping maw. Although eaten quickly, it was no less relished. There may not have been much competition for the seat of the best thing he had eaten in a week, but this stew certainly took that spot without a doubt! The ale was enjoyed more slowly, the tankard tipped back a bit at a time. However it was carefully done so as it was trickier to drink from a cup with how his mouth was shaped. Even so, he felt a warm sensation roll through him as his shoulders relaxed and a deep sigh passed his maw. Paradise!

But paradise would soon be lost. The barkeep seemed genuine enough with never seeing the symbol before but the rather stout man who had been referred to as Justran was definitely laying. The way he wouldn't meet the alf-dragon's gaze and suddenly seemed rather twitchy were dead giveaways. Letting out a small puff of frost from his nose in a huff of displeasure, Fus stood up suddenly. Now at his full height he easily loomed over the other man, getting right in his face. "Justran, was it? I know you are lying to me and, quite frankly, I am offended by the attempt to deceive me. These people are murders and thieves, and I am honor-bound to find them. You hiding them from me makes you an accomplice to their crimes. Aiding those who murder the innocent and steal from their loved ones, are these really people you want to be associated with?" His voice was stern but the half-dragon was not yelling.

He grabbed the piece of paper with the symbol on it and held it so the man could get a very good look at it. "I implore you to look once more and take a very good look. I seek your aid to find this group and end them. Would it not be better to give your aid to someone who wishes to end such villains? So, I ask you once more, have you seen this symbol?" Fus attempted to persuade Justran by appealing to his sense of honor and morals.
When the ale and stew are set before Fus, the half-dragon eagerly digs into the meal with hunger befitting his stature. The stew isn't so much spooned into his mouth so much as it is poured into his gaping maw. Although eaten quickly, it was no less relished. There may not have been much competition for the seat of the best thing he had eaten in a week, but this stew certainly took that spot without a doubt! The ale was enjoyed more slowly, the tankard tipped back a bit at a time. However it was carefully done so as it was trickier to drink from a cup with how his mouth was shaped. Even so, he felt a warm sensation roll through him as his shoulders relaxed and a deep sigh passed his maw. Paradise!

But paradise would soon be lost. The barkeep seemed genuine enough with never seeing the symbol before but the rather stout man who had been referred to as Justran was definitely laying. The way he wouldn't meet the alf-dragon's gaze and suddenly seemed rather twitchy were dead giveaways. Letting out a small puff of frost from his nose in a huff of displeasure, Fus stood up suddenly. Now at his full height he easily loomed over the other man, getting right in his face. "Justran, was it? I know you are lying to me and, quite frankly, I am offended by the attempt to deceive me. These people are murders and thieves, and I am honor-bound to find them. You hiding them from me makes you an accomplice to their crimes. Aiding those who murder the innocent and steal from their loved ones, are these really people you want to be associated with?" His voice was stern but the half-dragon was not yelling.

He grabbed the piece of paper with the symbol on it and held it so the man could get a very good look at it. "I implore you to look once more and take a very good look. I seek your aid to find this group and end them. Would it not be better to give your aid to someone who wishes to end such villains? So, I ask you once more, have you seen this symbol?" Fus attempted to persuade Justran by appealing to his sense of honor and morals.
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[quote]Fus attempted to persuade Justran by appealing to his sense of honor and morals.[/quote] [indent]Roll: 14 + 4 Persuasion = 18 Success![/indent] Justran mops his brow: he's begun to sweat profusely under the pressure of Fus' gaze. He says, "Of course not; I would never want to contribute to harming anyone, or, or ... I [i]might[/i] know something about that symbol. I might have seen it before. You could, uh, you could try the docks at Womford. Look for, um, Shoalar Quanderil, the genasi. I ... I took passage on his boat recently and saw that symbol on some casks in his hold." Based on his Insight score, Fus still does not believe that Justran is telling him everything. @AbyssRanger
Quote:
Fus attempted to persuade Justran by appealing to his sense of honor and morals.

Roll: 14 + 4 Persuasion = 18
Success!

Justran mops his brow: he's begun to sweat profusely under the pressure of Fus' gaze. He says, "Of course not; I would never want to contribute to harming anyone, or, or ... I might know something about that symbol. I might have seen it before. You could, uh, you could try the docks at Womford. Look for, um, Shoalar Quanderil, the genasi. I ... I took passage on his boat recently and saw that symbol on some casks in his hold."

Based on his Insight score, Fus still does not believe that Justran is telling him everything.

@AbyssRanger
@Avespanthera

Reverence raised her gaze to the Tiefling man who had taken a seat across from her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw words began to hang in the air in front of her, confusion evident all across her face. A symbol? She pulled the crumbled up piece of paper out from her pocket and placed it down next to the one the other Tiefling placed on the table. They were almost identical. "I've seen it before, yeah." She glanced around at the tables around her before she leaned closer to the male. "As far as I'm concerned, they're a bunch of racist ****** who assume people like us are just so inclined to be evil."

A sigh escaped her lips as a frown formed on her face. If he was with them, he wouldn't be asking about their symbol. She raised an eyebrow as she cocked her head to the side, leaning back in her seat. He didn't look much like someone who they'd want either. His looks were far too wild, and as far as she could tell, he didn't appear to be evil in anyway besides the obvious devilish horns and tail. "Why are you looking for them?" She questioned, playing with her nails before looking the man in the eyes.

She turned when the barmaid came to the table with her food. A smile replaced her serious frown as she paid the woman, waving her off quickly. The woman took it before running off, probably shocked (and possibly afraid) of the two Tieflings sitting before her. The smell of hot stew made her stomach rumble, and a slight blush made its way onto her cheeks. She took a few bites before looking back to the man who stayed sat in front of her. She pulled her piece of paper away and back into her pocket, not once averting her gaze.
@Avespanthera

Reverence raised her gaze to the Tiefling man who had taken a seat across from her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she saw words began to hang in the air in front of her, confusion evident all across her face. A symbol? She pulled the crumbled up piece of paper out from her pocket and placed it down next to the one the other Tiefling placed on the table. They were almost identical. "I've seen it before, yeah." She glanced around at the tables around her before she leaned closer to the male. "As far as I'm concerned, they're a bunch of racist ****** who assume people like us are just so inclined to be evil."

A sigh escaped her lips as a frown formed on her face. If he was with them, he wouldn't be asking about their symbol. She raised an eyebrow as she cocked her head to the side, leaning back in her seat. He didn't look much like someone who they'd want either. His looks were far too wild, and as far as she could tell, he didn't appear to be evil in anyway besides the obvious devilish horns and tail. "Why are you looking for them?" She questioned, playing with her nails before looking the man in the eyes.

She turned when the barmaid came to the table with her food. A smile replaced her serious frown as she paid the woman, waving her off quickly. The woman took it before running off, probably shocked (and possibly afraid) of the two Tieflings sitting before her. The smell of hot stew made her stomach rumble, and a slight blush made its way onto her cheeks. She took a few bites before looking back to the man who stayed sat in front of her. She pulled her piece of paper away and back into her pocket, not once averting her gaze.
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@Justdevon

Hush stares down at the other paper in silence, ears perked up, until the other tiefling stops speaking. He meets her gaze for a moment before shifting his eyes to her hands; the eye contact, especially prolonged as it would be with her watching him, makes the fur on his body stand on end.

'Burned down my house. Took two of my family. Kids.' He looks at the words he's conjured, idly grabbing his drink and pouring some into his mouth (it's not really possible to sip with tusks in the way). All he can glean from her words is that they're a group that's trying to get others to join--tieflings especially. Yet instead of approaching him, they decided to try and ruin his life. He leans back a bit in his chair, brows furrowed as he looks at the symbol once again.

'They tried to recruit you?' The words take a little longer to appear as he signs with just one hand, mug still in the other. His tail continues to twitch, now thumping softly against the floor.
@Justdevon

Hush stares down at the other paper in silence, ears perked up, until the other tiefling stops speaking. He meets her gaze for a moment before shifting his eyes to her hands; the eye contact, especially prolonged as it would be with her watching him, makes the fur on his body stand on end.

'Burned down my house. Took two of my family. Kids.' He looks at the words he's conjured, idly grabbing his drink and pouring some into his mouth (it's not really possible to sip with tusks in the way). All he can glean from her words is that they're a group that's trying to get others to join--tieflings especially. Yet instead of approaching him, they decided to try and ruin his life. He leans back a bit in his chair, brows furrowed as he looks at the symbol once again.

'They tried to recruit you?' The words take a little longer to appear as he signs with just one hand, mug still in the other. His tail continues to twitch, now thumping softly against the floor.
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