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Know, O prince, that in that undreamed age of men and beasts, of heroes and villains, scoundrels and sellswords, there was once a band of brothers bound only by their word and trust in one another's sword arms. ‘Live well today, take what you desire. Tomorrow, you spill your blood for silver so a merchant can earn gold’ was their motto, and for each tomorrow that they awoke to, the merchants kept earning their gold... Captain Achates' Free Company could have chosen a more hospitable place to fall apart. Achates usually had a nose for such work, but the Northlands of Hyperborea were a confounding place to ply the mercenary trade. But at least it wasn't winter. It didn't take much convincing for you to take your leave, a red cloak that could buy you at least one night in an inn anywhere that had seen a battle in a hundred years, and a handful of coin. The Nezvaya river is but a stream, here in the high northern steppe of Turan. To your west, the Kenzankian mountains loom large, full of strange apes and degenerate hill-people. Beyond them, Zamora, and the kingdoms of the west. But for now, your eyes were set on a town not far down the river valley from you. Deadgate wasn't much, but it had fed your bellies and other such desires before. Deadgate wasn't the actual name of the place. It had some Turanian name like Kulsary or Koschagyl or Karaton, guttural and full of hard noises. But the name of a place was what people called it, and you were in Deadgate, and before long, spending the last of your coin on food and drink, living like it was your last. Party hardy, do whatever, get to know each other then go look for some work or something. This should be somewhat of an exploratory game, so feel free to pick a direction and go see whats out there.  Roughly where the Y in Nezvaya curves is where you are. Click it for a big world map thing.
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| # ? Jan 18, 2013 04:08 |
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| # ? May 20, 2013 16:54 |
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Benhadad Gozen Benhadad reins in his horse, and turns to look at the others, all of them far from home, far from anything really. He casts his gaze on the mountains that rise up to the west, and shakes his head. "How did we end up here, by Ishtar? There is no war here, no blood to spill nor coin to earn. We should head south, away from this cold wasteland. We will find fighting and fortune in plenty in Shem, I say." Beardless fucked around with this message at Jan 18, 2013 around 04:51 |
| # ? Jan 18, 2013 04:49 |
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Petruso Petruso's lip curls into a slight sneer as he looks around at the wilderness. "Of course you want to go to Shem, you will all undoubtedly want to go back to the lands of your birth at some time. I say it doesn't matter where we go. As long as there are people building cities we will profit there. It makes no difference to me." He spits at the ground and shivers before wrapping his cloak more tightly around himself. CapitalistPig fucked around with this message at Jan 18, 2013 around 06:15 |
| # ? Jan 18, 2013 06:11 |
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Sigyn Sigyn claps both men on the shoulders simultaneously. "Bah! The cold gives that sharp sting that lets you know your alive. You want warm! Come! Ale!" she declares, half-dragging the two towards the inn and the promise of a warm fire and frothy drink. pre:Sigyn Bronsdottir Nordheimer (Vanir) Barbarian 3 +1 to Hide, Listen, Move Silently, Survival and Spot in cold land +1 to damage w/ swords Martial Weapon Proficiency: Broadsword Weapon Familiarity Background Skills Craft (any), Knowldge (Local), Profession (Farmer) survival Favoured Class: Barbarian Automatic Languages: Bonus Languages: Cimmerian, Aquilonian, Pictish, Hyperborean Base Attack Bonus Sigyn Bronsdottir Nordheimer (Vanir) Barbarian 3 6' 5" 192 lbs. Red hair, green eyes, pale skin STR 16 +3 Fort: +4 DEX 12 +1 Ref: +4 CON 14 +2 Will: INT 12 +1 HP 24 WIS 10 +0 CHA 10 +0 Base Attack Bonus: +3 Dodge: +2 Parry: +1 Reputation: Fate Points: Skills Bluff (Cha) 1 Climb (Str) 2 Craft: Herbalism (Int) 2 Craft: Shipwright (Int) 1 Handle Animal (Cha) 1 Hide (Dex) 2 Intimidate (Cha) 2 Jump (Str) 2 Listen (Wis) 2 Move Silently (Dex) 1 Perform (Cha) 1 Ride (Dex) 2 Spot (Wis) 4 Survival (Wis) 2 Swim (Str) 1 Languages: Nordheimir Feats and Class abilities: Class Feats - Weapon and Armour Proficiency, Fearless, Track, Versatility, Bite Sword, Crimson Mist, Trap Sense, Endurance Level Feats - Combat Reflexes Equipment: Weapons: Broadsword Dmg 1d10, Crit 19-20/x2, AP 3, Hrd 10, HP 5, Slashing, 2.5 lbs Dagger, Dmg 1d4, Crit 19–20/×2, AP 1**, Range Inc. 10 ft., Hrd 10, HP 1, Piercing, 1 lb. Knife, Dmg 1D4, Crit x2, Range Inc. 10 ft., Hrd 8, HP 1, Piercing, 1 lb Armor: Leather Jerkin (DR 4, Check Penalty -1, 4 lbs) Large Shield (SB +4, Check Penalty -4, 8lbs) Gear: Riding Horse Bit and Bridle, 1 lb Riding Saddle, 25 lbs Clothes (Cloak, Boots (Work), Tunic, Loincloth, Belt, Stockings) Bedroll, 5 lbs Herbalist's Kit (4lb) Kit Bag, .5 lbs Wooden Bowl 10 candles, 1 lb Flint and Steel 3 days rations, 3 lbs Whetstone, 1 lb Candle Lantern, 3 lbs Waterskin, 4 lbs Grappling Hook, 1 lb
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| # ? Jan 18, 2013 15:05 |
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Vanaja "South sounds good," the archer-mistress opines, leading her horse behind her, scuffing boots on the enervated scrub grass that clung tenacious to the ground even as it flopped lifelessly in the strong breeze. "South means warmth. If I'm going to scrounge for coin, I may as well be comfortable doing it." Still, she stays with them as they progress into the dismal and filthy little town, taking care to tie up her horse before following them into the tavern, trusting in her red cloak, and Ghora's natural hatred of everyone who wasn't Vanaja, to keep the stubborn beast safe. "Drink sounds like a fine distraction for the moment. Hells, things always seem better with a good hangover, anyway," she adds, a rare smile slipping across her face for a fleeting instant, before her usual antipathy regained its hold on her features.
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| # ? Jan 18, 2013 18:27 |
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pre:Name: Iago Race: Zingaran Class: Pirate 1/Soldier2 Str: 16 Dex: 10 Con: 10 Int: 14 Wis: 8 Cha: 16 BAB: +2 Dodge: +1 (11) Parry: +2 (17/19) Fort: +5 Ref: +2 Will: -1 Languages: Zingaran, Aqualonian, Kothic Feats, Racial, & Class Abilities: Sneak Attack +2d6 Two Weapon Combat Weapon Focus (Arming Sword) Parry Combat Expertise Intricate Swordplay Two Weapon Defense MWP: Arming Sword +1 Sense Motive checks –1 Diplomacy checks +1 Profession (sailor), Balance and Use Rope checks *+1 all attack w/ broadsword and arming sword Skills Rnk Att Bluff 6 +3 Climb 2 +3 Intimidate 6 +3 Gather Information 4 +3 Know (Rumors) 2 +2 of Search 6 +2 Profession (Sailor) 2 +2 Arming Sword and Poinard Arming Sword Attack: +7 to hit, 1d10+3 damage, 19-20x2 Poinard Attack: +5 to hit, 1d6+3 damage, 19-20x2 -OR- Parry +2 The Zingaran scowls. It had been a long day, and the night did not look promising. Little in the way of the comforts of his homeland here, to be sure. The wine was foul, the beer was worse. Still, it would serve well enough. They wanted south, to wandrer further from civilization, to crawl into the lands of barbarian and monster. "We should make for Shadizar. It is a proper city, and will have proper work. Proper ale as well, no doubt."
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| # ? Jan 18, 2013 18:42 |
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Sigyn "BAH!" Sigyn declares dismissively. "Never catch yourself a good man with that attitude. Warmth. Pif!" Sigyn tells Vanaja, nudging her in the shoulder with a fist. She turns and strides across the inn to the bar. "Barkeep!" she declares, pounding her fist on the table. "A round of your best ale!" That might not be particularly good, here in this backwater, but at least she's trying. In short order and after the exchange a few coins, Sigyn returns to the group and passes out mugs to each of her fellows. "Now then," she says, slightly less boisterous. "You all want to be going south?" she asks. "I'm not for the warm climes like you all. Still," she unfolds a little slip of paper. "Seems I need to be heading that way myself. Shadizar's on the way to Picon, yes?"
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| # ? Jan 18, 2013 20:55 |
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Petruso Petruso looks appalled at being touched and shudders. "I suppose ale wouldn't entirely be terrible." He walks into the Inn and starts to scan the room for a fat purse to swipe just out of habit.
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| # ? Jan 18, 2013 22:15 |
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pre:Name: Three-Wolf
Class: Soldier 3
Race: Pict
STR 16 (+3) [10]
DEX 14 (+2) [04]
CON 14 (+2) [06]
INT 10 (+0) [04]
WIS 12 (+1) [04]
CHA 08 (-1) [00]
HP: 36
BAB: +3
Speed: 40 Feet
Saves - +5/+3/+2
Dodge - +3
Parry - +6
Languages -
Aquilonian, Pictish, Talking Drums
Skills:
Climb +5 [2 Ranks + 3 Strength]
Jump +5 [2 Ranks + 3 Strength]
Perform (Drums) +4 [4 Ranks]
Ride +4 [2 Ranks + 2 Dexterity]
Feats:
Parry [Level 1]
Weapon Focus (Battle Axe) [Level 1 Soldier Bonus]
Improved Initative [Level 2 Soldier Bonus]
Fleet Footed [Level 3]
Class Feautres;
Proficient in: Two Weapon Combat,
Light/Medium/Heavy Armor, Shields,
Simple/Martial Weapons
Bonus Feats
Formation Fighting: Fighting Spirit
Racial Features:
+2 Dexterity, –2 Intelligence
+1 racial bonus to all Tumble and Jump checks: Picts
+1 circumstance bonus to attack and damage
rolls made when
attacking a creature of the Animal type:
+2 circumstance bonus to all Hide, Listen, Move Silently,
warm forest
Equipment:
Battle Axe
Short Sword
Hatchet
Heavy Shield
Arming Sword
Crossbow + 10 Bolts
Jerkin
Steel Cap
Assorted Clothing
Drums
Kit Bag + Belt Pouch
Weapons:
Battle Axe - +7 to hit, 1d10+3 Damage 20/x3 Critical
Crossbow - +5 to hit, 1d8 damage, 20/x3 Critical
Reputation: 3
Fate Points: 3
Foreshadowings -
When I am forced to choose the welfare of my companions
over my own
When I trick a foolish enemy
When I take something of immense value from the
Southlanders
"The Zingaran is right." Three-Wolf opines, as he drinks his ale. Perhaps later he would ask the bar keep where he might find a brothel or a gambling hall, to enjoy the last of his pay. "Cities have more work, more money. Better women and drink. Better things to steal, if we cannot find good work for our blades." He nods sagely at this - a true Pict knew that things only belonged to a Clan strong and cunning enough to keep them. If the feeble Southlanders could not guard their possesions, then they were Three-Wolf's by right. Looking around at the squalor of Deadgate, Three-Wolf does not think he will find much to thieve from here.
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| # ? Jan 19, 2013 01:06 |
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Benhadad Gozen Benhadad is only to eager to have Sigyn pay for the first round, and sits down with the others. Listening to their talk of cities, he nods. "Well it seems to me that any city of note lies to the south of here anyways. I certainly wasn't suggesting going to Stygia Winter is not yet on us, so we shouldn't have too much trouble crossing the mountains. The hill tribes and their ape-kin shouldn't give us too much trouble. From there we can make for Shadizar."
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| # ? Jan 19, 2013 02:27 |
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Rounds of drinks are brought, and merriment is had by all, only sometimes interspersed with plots of adventure and tales of riches in the south. The mood only shifts when a man catches Petruso by the hand, an odd happening if that hand did not happen to be in the man's purse at the time. "Rotten theives and scoundrels, the lot of you!" He exclaims. He is old, with the appearance of well-weathered bark. Rotten teeth and a slight jaundice tinge to his skin hint to a poor diet, possibly a riverman. His grip is strong, despite his age, and he holds a boning knife in his other hand. "I'd take a finger right here, but who knows how many other pockets you've dipped in, and it sounds like you'd be looking to part with some of that money. The Vilayet is the fastest way south, and I can get you a barge downriver to her." A hush seems to have spread through the common room. "Or I can just take a knuckle or two."
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| # ? Jan 19, 2013 04:38 |
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Petruso Petruso scowls at the old man and slowly tries to unhook his short sword without being noticed while figuring out the best way to slip the old man's grasp.
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| # ? Jan 19, 2013 05:12 |
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Vanaja Laughing, Vanaja fixes her gaze on the old man, meeting his eyes dead on with no trace of mirth on her face even as she laughs. "We can compromise. We get the barge, our comrade keeps his wormy little digits, you get a coin or two... and you walk away afterwards. Which, I think, is perhaps worth half the price you were thinking of gouging from us. We are not brigands, silverhair. We are mercenaries. That's why you are getting this magnanimous offer of generosity, instead of finding yourself with a knife in your belly. I am sure you have no great desire for avarice to lead way to your untimely demise. Do we understand one another?"
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| # ? Jan 19, 2013 11:09 |
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Three-Wolf Preferring violence to losing what little coin they have left, Three-Wolf doesn't say anything. The Pict just rises from his seat and unhooks the small hatchet he kept hanging at his hip. His axe was too big and unwieldy for such cramped quarters, he thought. Menacing and silent, the Pict waits for someone to make a move.
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| # ? Jan 19, 2013 19:15 |
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"Hm, yes, you are no bandits, but obviously strong mercenaries and wily traders as well. A couple coins is all I ask." He says, releasing his grip and tucking the knife back into his belt. "No trouble. We are all friends here, yeah?" The crowd begins to murmur, returning to their normal business as the man backs away, hands in the air. "Come find me down at the docks when you are ready to go. No hurry. Bad harvest this year, nothing else to ship."
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| # ? Jan 20, 2013 00:27 |
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PETRUSO With a deadly gaze Petruso calmly says "I have killed men for less old man, you will take us south in return for me not slicing your throat and dumping your body in the river, and IF we decide to give you any coin at all you will consider yourself lucky." He then spits on the ground towards the man and goes back to his drink.
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| # ? Jan 20, 2013 05:09 |
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Vanaja "Somebody's mad he got ca-aught..." mocks Vanaja in a lilting voice, hiding her smirk behind her tankard of ale.
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| # ? Jan 20, 2013 09:35 |
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Petruso Got caught what? That's the strange thing. I was just sitting here drinking with the rest of you. Normally I'd be the first to admit getting caught palming someones purse, but I was at least going to wait until I'd spotted a fat one and finished my ale! He smirks and winks at her.
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| # ? Jan 20, 2013 17:37 |
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Cackling to himself, the man does not seem to believe, or acknowledge, the threat as he teeters off out of the tavern. Was he crazy, or did he really have a barge? Bumping and ready to move along when you guys are.
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| # ? Jan 21, 2013 20:39 |
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Iago Iago cackles. "If you expect the support of the likes of Iago son of Carlos, thief, you had best be more clever in your thieving. Be glad a scolding is all you got for your fumblethumbed boobery. Alas, your waggling tongue seems to have cheated us out of our transport. That is unless you like the idea of the boatmen crushing your skull in the night." Still, it was good even if the Zamoran seemed to have the sense and wit of a child.
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| # ? Jan 21, 2013 20:50 |
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Petruso I don't understand why you all think I was stealing anything. Looking for purses to steal is far different than actually having my hand in them, beside's I wasn't really planning on us all sleeping at the same time anyway, as a general rule it's always good for at least one of us to have an eye open.Those threats were not idle, there are exactly three things I care about. Me, Money, and Ale. I'll be damned if I'm going to let some smelly old man threaten me when I hadn't even stolen anything yet! In any case I'm sure the ride isn't ruined the old man said to meet him, so let's meet him and he will take us down the river and maybe I'll even give him some coins for it if he's polite. CapitalistPig fucked around with this message at Jan 21, 2013 around 21:29 |
| # ? Jan 21, 2013 21:18 |
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Sigyn A loud crack of fist on flesh comes from across the bar, followed by some kind of curse in Nordheimish. Sigyn trundles back to the table, shaking her hand. She takes a seat and gulps down part of her drink. "What have I missed!?" she asks.
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 02:48 |
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Benhadad "Petruso tried to take some old-timer's purse, and got caught. Then he offered us passage on his barge. The man who caught him that is. Unless Petruso hasn't been telling something, I don't think he has a barge."
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 02:54 |
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Sigyn The northwoman humphs at that, leaning in over her drink. "Did he threaten to take Petruso's finger?"
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 03:20 |
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Benhadad "He did at that. It very nearly came to blows."
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 03:33 |
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Sigyn "Bah! Sorry I missed that!" she declares, thumping her drink. "You'd be less use to us with one fewer finger, thief," she tells Petruso. "It's the practice for thieves in the north. The man had his wits about him for that, at least."
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 03:34 |
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Three-Wolves "In my home, if a man tries to take what is yours, you slay him. If he tries by night or by sword does or by words, it does not matter. Always death." Three-Wolves sighs heavily, thinking of the woodlands of his home. "It is better that way. Fewer thieves."
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 03:40 |
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Iago "The man stole the Zamoran's pride, that is all." He looks at the soldier. "Three Wolves, do you talk many men to death?"
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 17:49 |
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Three-Wolves "Once, in my homeland. Big gray wolf was creeping up behind a man, and he was my rival. We spoke of weather, until the wolf pounced on him." He smiles at the memory of the hated Red Crow's death. The man had been a bragging fool.
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 20:17 |
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Vanaja Vanaja slams her tankard down on the table, spilling ale onto the cracked wood. "HA! Now that's funny!"
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| # ? Jan 22, 2013 23:23 |
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Sigyn Sigyn downs the rest of her ale in one head-tilting go. She slams her tankard back down. "Wasting good ale there, girl!" she tells Vanja with a big grin. "Drink tonight, barge tomorrow?" she asks the group.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:06 |
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Iago "Bah, tonight Iago roisters in the brothels of this forsaken place, that they may learn a thing. I will see you in the morning," he says drunkenly before heading off to complete his evening. Wraaaaap it up
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:58 |
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Petruso "Agreed" He finishes his ale and goes back to his room to sleep away the many blows to his pride from today.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 15:59 |
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Benhadad "Yes, the barge sounds like a fine plan." Benhadad quaffs one last ale, stands unsteadily, and walks up the stairs and into his room.
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| # ? Jan 23, 2013 19:19 |
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Morning comes, sooner for some than others, but just in time. A town's welcome can only handle the appetites of mercenaries such as you for so long, and the barkeeps and such that were eager to take your coin last night offer only a scowl and squinted eye as you leave in the morning. The docks, as the old man called them, are little more than a beach with some fishing boats pulled ashore. A few posts stick out from the river, which widens as it bends around the town here, probably remnants of a dock or some other structure, but now the only thing atop them are a few craggy fishermen, having clambered up the posts to get at prime fishing spots in the middle of the river. The old man is there, dangling from the end of a barge, presumably his. The end he hangs from still sticks out far into the water, and he has his eyes fixed on something in the water. With a lunge, he is in up to the shoulders, only to recoil with a shriek and curse at the tricky fish.
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| # ? Jan 24, 2013 00:28 |
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Iago Reeking of wine, Iago heads to the docks with a shank of cold mutton wrapped in a loaf of bread in one hand and a skin of wine in the other. As he walks, he takes great bites off his improvised sandwich which are washed down with huge pulls of wine. He watches the man fall in, curious. He knows something of boats, but this is new to him. "Is this some strange custom?" he shouts down to the bargeman.
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| # ? Jan 24, 2013 04:39 |
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Petruso Upon seeing the old man's action with the fish, he smiles to himself and approaches the raft ignoring the old man and inspecting the barge to see if it has any obvious problems.
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| # ? Jan 24, 2013 05:32 |
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The old man makes another go at it, and this time his hands come up with a river trout! His success is measured in seconds, though, as the slippery fish wriggles free. The old man juggles it for a moment, before losing his balance and falling into the river, moments before the fish. He bobs up, stringy white hair pasted to his head, and only then does he notice you. "You made it! Just in time to for me to catch us some lunch!" He calls to the shore, before disappearing beneath the murky water. The barge looks like it is in no danger of sinking, though old and very worn.
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| # ? Jan 25, 2013 03:45 |
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Benhadad Benhadad stares at the old man's antics, and begins to laugh. "Hah! Well Petruso, even if he does try and slit our throats in the night, it seems he's more likely to cut open the pillows then our necks."
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| # ? Jan 25, 2013 04:06 |
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| # ? May 20, 2013 16:54 |
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Vanaja "And, ah, how exactly did you manage to get caught by this one, Petruso?" Vanaja asks, sounding as innocent as a fox in the henhouse, a smirk upon her lips.
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| # ? Jan 25, 2013 14:29 |
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