Posted April 18, 2023 (edited) @DustyStar @Lycanious Get in here; we're going on an adventure! What happens when you mix Forsakenverse babies with mortal college, DnD, and AU? Friends, fun, and complete chaos! We're gonna have a grand time, folks. Let's goooooo! Cast of Characters Neremyn : Aktha, the Dragonkin Necromantic Cleric Lucky : Sabaki : NPCs 1-? : Picrew links: https://picrew.me/share?cd=qf49oxuJN2 https://picrew.me/share?cd=D1AolRmm6t https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/449524 Edited April 19, 2023 by ValidEmotions Share this post Link to post
Posted April 19, 2023 "Let me know when you're settled and ready." ... "Do you have your character sheets? Notebooks?" ... "Don't worry; I have extra pens, pencils, and erasers. We'l--What? No, I don't recommend using paint." ... "Your stats and inventory are going to change regularly." ... "Okay. Ready? Let's begin. You are located in the port town known as Brinebourne. A flyer has caught your attention. Across the land, rumors have been stirring about a dark power on the rise. Reports about corrupted beasts have begun whispering through towns...." The tavern is warm, a welcome reprieve from the winter storm blowing outside. Many a fellow traveller has the same idea as Aktha to hunker down as long as permitted. Though their cloak conceals their form moderately enough, a few sparse patrons within the tavern appear to take notice of the wings beneath. Looking away and searching for any vacant space, they stride towards a round and worn table closer to the rear of the room. With any luck, Aktha won't have to concern themself with being at the empty table for long. Given the size of Brinebourne and the level of activity by the populace even in light of the storm, they figured it was only a matter of time until someone else grew curious of the same flyer. Assuming, of course, it hasn't been swept away yet or shredded by the wind. The tavern keeper approaches their table, silent and stern in her expression as she pulls out a shamble of a writing pad and a quill. No words come from her mouth, and there's an overworked, burnt out, sense about her. And an impatient aire. Aktha clears their throat briefly before, "A red wine, please. And whatever soup is being served here." She took the order, equally without a word as when she first approached, and leaves them to their own devices once more. With nothing more to do but to wait, Aktha surveys their surroundings. Most notable is the feeble diversity within the populace. Despite being a port town, it appeared that Brinebourne wasn't a mixing bowl of the land's various races. Granted, there was a couple elves, some dwarves, and a fellow dragonkin amongst the crowd. But they were clearly isolated in their little pocket of the tavern. "Brinebourne's distinctly human territory. Noted...." Aktha mumbles to themself. There is solace in knowing, at least, there isn't any tension hovering in the air. They briefly consider removing their cloak in favor of making themself more comfortable. Only briefly. They hear the rush of wind and feel the chill enter the building from the entrance just as the tavern keeper returns with their order. Aktha sniffs once, picking out the aroma of the soup from the mingle smells of other meals. Despite the woman's unwelcoming demeanor, the food smells of great flavor and quality. Their mouth salivates from it and they are eager to begin eating. As they take their first spoonful of their meal-- ... "Yes, this is where another player can enter." ... "It's safe to assume Aktha will just be eating when you join the table." ... "Okay... What do you do?" Share this post Link to post
Posted April 19, 2023 "Oh no, sorry, you can't use that quill she- um. I mean, that quill is. Very old. I'll just um go put he- it somewhere safe, and you can use Neremyn's pencil instead." "Oookay, I'm back. And I bought snacks! Hope you all like jam tarts because uh. We have a lot of them. Always. Please take them. Please." "Sorry, um, where were we- Oh, okay. What do I do? Um..." ... The door to the tavern slams open, and from the cold enters what appears to be another human seeking shelter for the night. At a glance he looks ill equipped to have been outside in the first place, dressed in little more than a dark, sleeveless tunic with a high neck, a thin pair of pants, and pointed dress shoes. He has a pudgy build, not helped by the fact that his attire looks to be a little too tight for him, and is shaking wildly from the cold as he steps forward and claws furiously at his arms to presumably try and force some warmth back into them from friction alone. He is panting heavily, and has a wild and frantic look about him as though he'd just been chased inside by ferocious beast. He steps further into the tavern, glancing behind him, then continues forward once more until he manages to collapse onto a nearby chair that had recently been vacated. For a moment he just crosses his arms over the surface of the table before him and rests his forehead against them, taking deep, muffled gasps for breath as his shoulders tense and tremble with each one. Slowly, his breathing and shivering form starts to calm down. He lifts his head slowly from his arms, clearing his throat and adjusting his attire in what looked to be an attempt to look less dishevelled than when he had entered. He jumps when he hears a short but sharp tapping sound, curtesy of a quill-tip being driven several times into the wood of the table to grab his attention. "Um! Sorry. Um, yes...I'll have..." Green eyes dart briefly about the tavern, soon drawn to a nearby dragonkin that stood out from amongst the other humans, elves and dwarves that he'd noticed so far. He gestures in a vague, uncertain manner in their direction. "I'll have what they ordered, please." The one serving him doesn't seem too impressed with his appearance, he notes, but the quick retrieval of a few silver coins from his satchel seems to satisfy them enough not to comment any further. The man waits until they wander away to presumably serve someone else, then makes a hasty grab for a nearby glass mug that had been left there by the previous occupant. In a faint whisper, he seems to be addressing himself as he tries to inspect his own reflection in it. "Green hair? Why did I..." The thought trails off, and the man abruptly places the glass down once more with a shake of his head. He then buries his head in his hands once more and exhales loudly, sounding almost like he was supressing the urge to cry. ... "Is that okay for an intro? Was I supposed to go see the flyer on the way in? I-I can start that again, if it's wrong...." Share this post Link to post
Posted April 21, 2023 "Ah! Sorry! I-i didn't know..." ... "Can i try this instead?" ... "Oh! Yes, please!" ... "R-ready! I think..." ... The door to the tavern swung open with a harsh crack that echoed throughout the lofty establishment. Nothing emerged from the opening in that moment, leaving the cold wind to rush through the black void with small dusting of the outside flurry collecting around the doorframe. Abruptly a large green hand firmly grasped the top edge of the door, thick claws digging into the soft stained wood. A pair of long black horns emerged through the door first, followed by the tips of curved ivory tusks. As they came into view the frost that had collected on the surface sparkled in the golden light of the tavern. Finally the hulking form of an orc ducked through the door with a hearty grunt. Their breath almost looked like smoke as it blew out from their nose and mouth in dense clouds that spiraled away into the warm tavern. Taking a single step in, they jerked their arm away from the door, using the momentum to swing the arm up and push some messy strands of hair out of their face. There was little difference in color between their wild silvery hair and the icicles that had began to form at the tips. It was equally difficult to tell where their hair began and where the thick furs that covered their body began. The only thing that suggested they weren't anything less than a walking mammoth was dark leather armor firmly strapped underneath with heavy golden buckles. Considering the ice and snowdust that covered their entire body, one could surmise they had been walking through the storm for quite a while. Thin white eyes narrowed in on their surroundings. They look a long look around the tavern, silently taking in the bustling state it was in. Seeming to settle on a spot in the distance, they gave a small nod to themselves and began walking through the bar. Snow followed in their wake, leaving a small trail of moisture on the floor the tavern keeper glared at with obvious irritation and disdain. Each step sent small tremors through the tavern enough to disturb the liquid in nearby glasses. Out of the corner of their eye they observed a patron catching a plate that was treacherously teetering on the tables edge before it fell. As they neared the back of the room, the orc regarded the innkeeper with a snort and a slow nod. "Meat. Warm." Their voice sounded like gravel being crunched underfoot. Their cadence slow and choppy. The tavern keeper gave them a look up and down before jotting a quick note on her tattered notebook. With a barely disguised eye-roll she disappeared through a door at the back of the tavern. Gaze locking on a place they seemed to find suitable. A meaty claw reached out to grab a chair at the table right next to them, overlooking the hooded figure with large wings that had already taken occupancy at the table. They sat down with a huff. The poor chair making an audible creak as it bowed inwards from the weight of the massive orc. With a shrug of their shoulder the chair disappeared under the cape of fur that draped over it. Carefully the giant reached underneath their heavy coat and fetched a small copper bird cage. They held it out in front of their face, mumbling something inaudible to whatever was inside. They began fiddling with the latch on the cage, the size of their fingers causing notable struggle as it failed to open. At last with a small click the door swung open and out burst a flurry of feathers as something took to the air. A small robin flew up into the sky, weaving in and out between the rafters in the ceiling, darting between them in excited loops. Its excited chirping filled the space. It took one last thrilled glide around one of the ornate chandeliers that hung from the rafters before settling on the right shoulder of the orc. They regraded it with warm affection, making soft cooing sounds in response to its small chirps. ... "Is that okay? I didn't mess anything up, right?" ... "Can i have another jam tart, actually?" Share this post Link to post
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