Come and play with me...

[rkoelsch]

"Barkeep, more ale!"

to Roderick,"I will go to Radafel. I am just out to stretch the legs. One place is as good as another as long as there is a tavern at the end."

 

[Azreal the Soulmaster]

Niril smiles politely at the high elf

"My Story? Well its not much of a story. I come from a Drow village in a small forest east of here. Drows of the mist I believe we're called by the humans, anyway the village is quite prolific in Black magic, and I became a student of Necromancy when I was but a lad. I've mastered the trade and have been teaching myself of the other colours of magic."

Niril motions to his books

"So far I have almost mastered green, and know a little of red and blue. I left my village so that I may learn more, and make a name for myself."

Niril looks at Roderick and Dorgath

"So a journey to a mysterious place like this Radafel, might just aide me in my quest"

 

[Spiderman]

I look back at Niril with a wide grin.

"Radafel? Mysterious? It's just a town like any other. Of course, I've only been there once before so it's not like I know it like my own mountain home, but it seemed like any human town."

 

[Rando]

To Dorgath -
Roderick speaks, "Companions on any venture all always welcomed. It does seem odd that the merchants would stop sending thier goods. Knowing what I do know of your average merchant, it seems quite odd indeed."

To Celebrnadir-
You are sudenly spun around by a strong hand on your shoulder. The stench of an old drunk human burns your sensitive Elven nostrils, and his breath brings tears to your eyes. He is obviously drunk to the point of slopiness, and he weaves back and forth, trying to maintain his footing, whilst saying,

"You! You...Elf! We don't cotton to yer kind 'round 'ere. Why's don't ya just prance back ta yer forest and play wit' da gnomes...ya...ya..Faerie!" With that, he spits on the floor at your feet.

"Now now Gerald, " says the bartender, "These travels ain't harmed no one."

 

[MrXarvox]

"Hey, now for me! Yea, harken back 150 years or so. 'At's when I was a mere lad, an' I used t' go about doin' minor magics even then. Useta show th' other kids how t' jump real far an' suchlike, though I was always the best. So one day these August mages come in my town, an' they see me doin' summa me levitatin' so they say to my pa, 'this boy's got a gift, we'd like to take him to our magic academy, for we need more strong-minded young mages', my pa wasn't all sure, after all, he did need me to tend to the family farm, but the mages just raised 'im a golem an' that was that. Doubt the old man ever had to work again.
So anyway, I'm a real good student at the old academy an' I pass the basic courses with flyin' colors. Next thing you know, I'm teachin' there! But lemme tell you, August Academy is real set in its ways. I was showin' my students how to throw hot steam at things when some o' the high mages come in an' tell me off, sayin' I wasn't stickin' enough to the curriculum. it was true, o'course, It was a pyromancy class, but I figured steam drew its energy from fire, right? Apparently they just want me to do dry fire. So when I explain it to 'em, they get all huffy about how the August school o' magic has high standards for discipline, an' if I wasn't gonna follow the rules, how could I expect my students to? I told 'em i didn't expect my students to follow stupid rules like 'only teach dry fire in a pyromancy class' if there was some way to innovate! So they kicked me out o' there right quick, an' had me blackballed in all the other magic trades, so I was forced to beg and do magic tricks for a livin' and that doesn't pay well.
So here I am today, old an' ragged but I keep on goin'!
I don't expect to be dead anytime soon. I got magic in my blood still! hey, maybe a bit o' adventurin'd do me good. Get me back up to me old strength again. It's worth a shot, eh? To Radafel with Palyverulos per-August!"

Pally turns then to the drunk who has just appeared.

"Sit you back down, ye sot! No good comes o' threatenin' a mage, an' you'd know that if you wasn't a drunken fool."

 

[Rando]

**DISABLE SIGNATURES PLEASE!!!**

 

[Rando]

To Paly -
The drunk shuffles up into your face. "So, 'er ya in leauge wit dis Elf? Hm? Ere ya an ELF LOVER!?! Well, in dat case, ya can go prance wit da gnomes and faeries too, ya light footed, limp..."

The bartender cuts him off. "Gerald! Sit down and quit bothering perfectly good, paying customers!"

To everyone -
You all notice that by this time, everyone in the tavern has stopped talking and is watching to confrontation at the bar...

 

[MrXarvox]

Pally says to the drunk:

"So what if I am? I told you it's no good to be threatenin' mages, ye daft fool!"

Pally makes a point of white-hot light appear between his thumb and forefinger.

"Now, I urge you to reconsider yer course of action. Be seated!"

Everyone present sees the light reflected in Pally's eyes (well, eye and monocle, anyway) and knows that he isn't just comic relief.

 

[Prince RXI]

"Now, now... uh, Pally is it? Well, this person doesn't seem to know who I am. I am Wandering Bard Celebrandir, Kin of Silver Dragons. I am knowned to all Kings and Queens as The Silver Wanderor or The Silver Minstriel. You dare challenge me? With my sword, Dinceleb, I could shower this room with your blood. With my bow, Brethilfin, I could hang you like a painting to the top of the wall. With my harp, Tilfin, I could make you sleep for one thousand years. And with my eyes, I could make you my slave..."

If no one has guessed it, the cloak is a Cloak of Charisma +6, and he has a set of Lens of Charming on as well. Celebrandir looks the drunk in his eye, and under his breath casts 'Charm Person'

 

[Rando]

To Celebrandir -
"Oh!" says Gerald the Drunk, "I bet all tha QUEENS know ya, ya faerie!"

With that, he goes into a little dance, singing a mindless "la la" song and prancing about like a fool. "Look et me! I'm an Elf, danceing 'moungst da trees and playin' my harp. Tra la la. Tee dee dee..."

He continues to dance, and for reasons you know not (perhaps it is because he's drunk, or perhaps it's becasue his dancing prevents you from looking directly into his eyes...) your charm spell does not take effect.

In the back of the tavern, a few locals begin to giggle...

 

[Rando]

**please do not take anything that Gerald the Drunk says seriously...there IS a purpose to all of this**

 

[Azreal the Soulmaster]

Niril takes out his dagger and places up to the drunk's neck

"I'd suggest you sit down, you've had too much to drink, I wouldn't want to kill a stupid but innocent person"

 

[MrXarvox]

"Ah! Cor!"

With the drunk thus preoccupied with dancing, Pally motions to the bartender.

"Got any ice on ya?"

Pally sucks on his singed fingertips, hoping that no one sees.

 

[Rando]

To Everyone -
As the knife comes up to Gerald the Drunks neck, all goes quiet in the tavern, and no one is smiling anymore...especially Gerald.

"Now, stranger..." says the barkeep, "he didn't mean no real harm. He's just drunk and a fool. Here, why don't you have a drink...on the house."

Before Niril can either accept or decline the bartender's offer, a chair comes flying from the back of the room and smashes into the bar! Splinters of wood go flying as the whole group of local in the place lunge at you all...and they mean buisness...

 

[MrXarvox]

"Oh, crackin' hell."

Pally jumps behind the bar, takes a swill of whisky, then hops up onto the bar.

"Dun't you come no closer, ye forsaken lynchmob!"

The sight is quite amusing. A thin old man in rags and a monocle, standing atop a bar and yelling things at an advancing mob.

"Pour me a shot, will ya? I'll be needin' it" says Pally to the barkeep, who has since ducked behind the bar himself and is fumbling for his sword.

There is a sudden crack of thunder as a visible shockwave bursts out from Pally's monocle, knocking many of the locals sprawling and putting Pally down too.
Pally lies unconscious, draped over the bar, his monocle still somehow attached to his eye. One wonders if it hasn't just permanently lodged itself there.

 

[TomB]

"And I took a bath for this?" I mutter to myself as the crowd charges in. I leap to my feet and draw my blade just as the shockwave from Pally's monocle goes off. It knocks me down, then I get myself back up again and face down the crowd.

"Any of you want some of this?" I ask as I wave the 6 foot blade menacingly. "Come an' get it if you do. I ain't afraid to use it."

Interesting glasses... I think to myself, as I scan the villagers picking themselves up off of the floor...

 

[Spiderman]

I mutter under my breath, "Gods, but these young-uns are sensitive and touchy. Who in their right mind pays attention to a drunk in a village not your own?"

I'm prepared to defend myself if any of the locals decides to lock horn with me, but other than that I'm keeping out of the way and not making any aggressive moves other than motioning to the barkeep for another ale.

 

[rkoelsch]

**I will attempt to fight off any locals

*** to all players please remember the rules. Rando is the story teller. You can say you are attempting this or that but it is Rando's story and he will tell you if it happens.

 

[Rando]

*****************************************************
Thank you Mr. Koelsch!

Yes, that's right...you say your doing this, or trying that, but nothing specific, and never the results. It's kinda like any RPG, in which you roll the dice, and the GM says if it was sucesfull or not.

Thank you, and we now return to the silly little game, already in progress...
*****************************************************

tO EVERYONE -

The surly locals rush the bar and start swinging. Sudenly, the strange blast knocks most of the off thier feet. This takes the fight out of several, but some of the drunker ones, like our good friend Gerald, get back up and set back to work.

To Niril -
Gerald picks up a bar stool and swings it at your head!

To Dorgath -
The local drunks don't care if your're staying out of th fight or not...one of them spins you around while another knocks you in your iron hard Dwarven jaw.

To Paly -
A particulary violent individual leaps over the bar, brandishing a broken bottle, and he's coming for you!

To Celebrandir-
To of them bum rush you, trying to trip you up and push you over a table.

To Tyresius -
The locals near you back off...thier drunk, but not too stupid. But, one of them picks up a pair of whisky flasks and throws them at you!

To Morgoth -
On particularly large and husky local breaks the leg off a table and comes at you, screaming a drunken battlecry...it seems he has some real expeirience in fighting hand to hand...

 

[Spiderman]

I defend myself with my iron-hard hands and feet, ducking and weaving and punching and chopping to take care of these two jokers.