Legend: The Rise of Shadow

[Dark Silver]

OOC: General Scene for all players, a introduction to the world primarily. All good aligned players should have some fair reason to be within the village,

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IC:
Life was good for the fair people of Anisinia. The land was fertile, the summer had been mild, and a excellent harvest was had. It was the lazy days just after the harvest season, when young mens fancy turned from work to young women, and young women's to young men.

Or such would normally be the case. As it was, a week ago, the country of Anisinia found itself beseiged on all sides. Former allies turned against them, armies seemed to form out of thin air, and battle was waged on the border. Blood was shed and covered the ground, and the sky was dark, even at noon. The wind was chill already, far earlier than it had anyright to being.

The older folk amoungst Anisinia's populace whispered of the strange weather, and the sudden onset of war. War had not been known amoungst the countries for decades, no true war in the past several generations. Not since the banishing of the Lord of Darkness and his breathern by King Jack the Great and Queen Lili the Beautiful. No trolls or goblin, gnoll or kobold had been seen since that forgotten time.

In the past few months, things had changed, the almost forgotten creatures of darkness began to resurface, raids had begun, human women and children dragged out of their beds in the midst of the night, villages razed to the ground and the land left unhealthy. Then the wars had started, and Darkness' had come out in force.

No one knew why the creatures had returned; what it foreshadowed. With the Kings busy fighting their wars, the villages where left with little to no protection, and thus able bodied men were often hired to help cleanse the surronding land of Darkness' taint......

And thus, this is how our story begins, in the Village of Klembet, where a group of hardy men and women answer the call of duty...and the promise of shiney gold....

Hartan stepped back from his handiwork, as he read the sign he just put up on the Saloon's wall. 'Wanted: Young men and women of skill to hunt suspected goblins. Equipment provided, payment of 50 gold coins per set of goblin ears upon completion of job. See Gremin in Broken Barrel Bar for details.'

[Bratty]

Mefarrian is resting on a tree, one leg up against the back of it. Her slender hands hold a piece of wood and a dagger as she measures the difference between one area and another with her fingertips.

Always a perfectionist.

Her other hand holds a dagger which she begins to gently slide along the wood's grain with careful and deliberate motion.

All the while, she whistles a slow and soft ballad she knows from long ago.

As Harten comes out and puts up the sign, her whistling ends from her lips. Almost on queue, a foreboding wind picks up where she leaves off, ruffling the edges of the paper of advertisement.

Mefarrian pushes off the tree, her work forgotten in her hands. As she approaches, most men find her foreboding. Standing a full 6'2" tall, she is quite willowy. Her white hair is bound back by leather tie, and she has foregone the dress of women of her time, seeking instead the clothing of a traveler. Even as such, she is graceful and elegant in her manner, as she peers at sign. Gleaning in the words and allowing them to sink in, she heads into the Broken Barrel Bar to seek employment.

It has begun...

[Comrade Tortoise]

Arvalas walked briskly down the road. Standing at an impressive (for a gnome) height of 3 feet 1 inch. It was not so much a brisk walk as a waddle. His legs being rather short, as gnome legs tend to be. He wore the clothes of a traveler. A set of leggings, a shirt and a leather vest. A wide brimmed hat shielded his eyes from the now somewhat darkened sun. Onhis back there was a backpack, with a bedroll strapped to the top. On his waste there was a belt full of pouches with various mundane spell components like herbs, crushed chalk, salt and a bit of bat guano. Also ther was a quiver full of crossbow bults anda dagger. In one hand was a walking stick, and in the other there was a crossbow, rested on his shoulder like a soldier would position his while marching. What made this rather comical was that the stock of the crossow was almost as long as he was high. People he passed undoubtedly wondered how he could concievably load the thing. What they didnt know of course was that it had a magical assist on the craniquen. All he had to do was twirl the crank levers around and it would pull back the steel cord.

So he continued to walk, whisteling a little tune to himself before he saw an elf standing in front of a sign. He picked up the pace a bit but whe went into the tavern before he reached her. So he went inside as well

"Good morning lass" he said to her
"50 gold pieces a pair eh? I would kill those scum for free"

He adjusted his crossbow on his shoulder and put his walking stick into a pocket in his pack made just for the purpose

[Charon]

Jonathon openned up his pack and looked over his rations, not much, his sharpening stone was also not what it used to be. Jonathon thought for a moment, no, he'd be safe for the next few night anyway. With that matter solved he threw on his travel-worn cloak, slid on his hat and made his way towards the nearest town, knowing almost instinctively where it was. A few hours later he came out of the woods in sight of the town and made sure the guard knew he was there. All of his supplies were with him, he didn't have a place to call home.

Harten was walking away from the sign as Jonathon walked up. He was a tall man, just over 7 feet and was built strongly, his hair was under his hat but from what few strands peeked out it looked brown. His eyes studied the elf from the short distance away that she was until she walked away from the sign. Then he himself walked up. Killing goblins, a good cause. His hand slipped to his money purse, nearly empty. Could use the gold as well. He turned and looked back at the forest, the feral nature deep within him eager to return there. Then with a shake of his head Jonathon headed for the bar.

[Comrade Tortoise]

As a really big man walked into the bar the gnome made an almost audible "eep" in his little mind. If he got to talking to that one, his name would be giant man. Regardless of his given name. His mind started to ramble. How on the god's green earth did a man get that big? What does he eat? How big were his parents I mean, his dad must have been HUGE, and I bet when he was a kid, the mastiff rode HIM like a pony

Then he stopped, banishing the thoughts from his brain. Of course, now he was visually sizing himself up. He barely came up to just past this guy's knees. Hopefully he was friendly, because this guy may be able to crush him like an unusually large insect before he caould get a slaying spell off

[Charon]

Jonathon looked down to see the gnome, seeing the wonderment in the gnomes eyes he simply smiled and removed his hat, revealing short unkempt hair, there even looked to be twigs stuck in the mess. He took a seat at the bar waiting for someone to mention this Gremin's name.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Jonathon looked down to see the gnome, seeing the wonderment in the gnomes eyes he simply smiled and removed his hat, revealing short unkempt hair, there even looked to be twigs stuck in the mess. He took a seat at the bar waiting for someone to mention this Gremin's name.

Arvalas clambered up onto a bar stool when the elf woman didnt respond and sat next to the giant man.

"Hello" he said. "Arvalas Goldstein, wizard, at your service"
"Might I have the pleasure of your name and trade?"
His tone as typical gnome. A bit fast and high bitched. But with the air of someone who is highly educated

[Charon]

Jonathon looked down at the gnome and smiled again. "My name is Jonathon, I'm a, traveler, of sorts." Jonathon's voice was slow and methodical. The signs of a patient man.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Jonathon looked down at the gnome and smiled again. "My name is Jonathon, I'm a, traveler, of sorts." Jonathon's voice was slow and methodical. The signs of a patient man.

"I figured you for the type. DO you intend to take the goblin bounty?"

[Charon]

Jonathon nodded some and ordered a drink for himself. "I take it from the weapon on your back you are looking for the bounty as well."

[Comrade Tortoise]

Jonathon nodded some and ordered a drink for himself. "I take it from the weapon on your back you are looking for the bounty as well."

"I am. Though to be honest, I hate goblins so much I would slaughter them for free.." he looks at his crossbow
"Though, the crossbow is my backup weapon"

[Bratty]

"Good morning lass" he said to her
"50 gold pieces a pair eh? I would kill those scum for free"

Mefarrian's slender brow raises as she observes the little man who walks and talks beside her without fear or loathing, at least towards her.

"What do you know of these ...scum?" She asks, trying to get a bit more information on not only the situation at hand, but on others who may be joining her on this mission or competing with her for the business.

However, she had not realized how quietly she spoke. The gnome had already engaged in conversation with another as she stepped inside the bar and had a seat. She observed Jonathan for a moment before looking behind the bar, and asking, "I am looking for Gremin." Time for the adventure to finally begin.

[The Cleric]

Majoire strolled down the road with the air of someone with nowhere to go and all day to get there. Noticing signs indicating that a town was near, and with the approach of night rapidly coming, he quickened his pace in an attempt to reach the town before nightfall.

Entering just as dusk was finishing, he spied a posted notice.

So there's a bounty on goblin ears, huh? he mused to himself. That's a pretty good price. Lets see if anyone else is going for it. Easier to kill with more than one person at it.

Figuring the tavern to be the best location to find incoming travelers, as well as lodging for the night.

Stepping into the tavern, he quickly scanned it, trying to decide where to sit.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Majorie sees a giant of aman talking to someone about a third of his height and maybe one 6th his mass

[Charon]

Jonathon smiled and laughed, "Understandable for a wizard." He noticed as another man came in now, he had the smell of bat guano, sulfer, and other things he figured would be used for magic. A fourth person for this escapade?

[The Cleric]

Selecting a seat to the left of the giant, neither too far away nor too close, he motioned for the bartender.

[Comrade Tortoise]

A spellslinger knowing a spellslinger, Arvalas waves his tiny hand at the otehr mage and says "hello"

[The Cleric]

Majorie nodded back.
"Awfully peculiur weather we've been having, isn't it?"

[Comrade Tortoise]

Majorie nodded back.
"Awfully peculiur weather we've been having, isn't it?"

"yes. On my part I think it reaks of evil and dark magic

[Cynical Cat]

A tall man shrouded by a black cloak enters the bar. His hair is dark and his skin is very fair. He is handsome, if a bit on the lean and angular side. The hilt of a long sword pokes over his shoulder. He movements are smooth and confident.

He stops for a moment to appraise those at the bar and then approaches. "Gentlemen, I assume you are here about the vermin problem."

[Comrade Tortoise]

A tall man shrouded by a black cloak enters the bar. His hair is dark and his skin is very fair. He is handsome, if a bit on the lean and angular side. The hilt of a long sword pokes over his shoulder. He movements are smooth and confident.

He stops for a moment to appraise those at the bar and then approaches. "Gentlemen, I assume you are here about the vermin problem."

"You would be assuming correctly dark one" He gnome was... a bit put off by this one. As if something was not right. Very not right.

[Cynical Cat]

"Excellent," replied the man. "Allow me to offer my assistance. My name is Syvannus and at one time I was a sorcerer of some minor repute. The depredations of the servants of Darkness have disturbed my home, so I am forced to venture out and deal with them. A reading of the bones suggested this place would be a good place to look for like minded individuals."

He paused for a moment, examaning Arvalas carefully. "Are you perchance a follower of the Dreamshaper College? You have the look, but I must confess my knowledge of gnomish magical practice is limited."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Excellent," replied the man. "Allow me to offer my assistance. My name is Syvannus and at one time I was a sorcerer of some minor repute. The depredations of the servants of Darkness have disturbed my home, so I am forced to venture out and deal with them. A reading of the bones suggested this place would be a good place to look for like minded individuals."

He paused for a moment, examaning Arvalas carefully. "Are you perchance a follower of the Dreamshaper College? You have the look, but I must confess my knowledge of gnomish magical practice is limited."

"I would be, your knowledge is not lacking in this area. Though, I am forced to ask. You speak of yourself as a sorcerer in the past tense. What are you now? Have you stopped practicing magic?"

Definently something not right with this one. He had a few spells he could cast which would pinpoint exactly what that was... but he couldnt cast them here, not while he was watching.

[imperfect vision]

A small glimmering white light slowly floats to the edge of town. It seems to linger for a few moments, before expanding and darkening to the form of a male about 4' in height. Bronzed skin from head to toe covered with only a pair of knee-length shorts and a belt with hanging bags, a spear latched onto his back. Bright coppery hair that somehow manages to reflect a myriad of color flowed over his shoulders. The fair folk exemplified.

He walked barefoot into the village, mouth drawn shut, purple eyes darting this way and that, ever wary. Those who were prepared like travelers he followed, to a large building - the inn, so very daunting, but a slow breath fueled his conviction to enter. Once inside, his pointed ears caught words of 'goblins' and 'rewards.' An interesting proposition; perhaps this was just the place to be.

[Cynical Cat]

"Not at all," replied Syvannus, "I continue to practice the craft of magic. I have, however, ceased to have a reputation as such since I retired to the woods. I still study magic, among other things, and I fear I will soon have to resume the practices of my earlier days."