NationStates Jolt Archive

(Here is where the adventure itself will take place. For metagame issues, refer to the Registry thread, here: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=349596)

The white mountains in the horizon slowly begin to swallow the sun, and the cold winds of twilight rise, howling through the various holes and openings that plague the old structure. The shadows projected by the great ruins to the north grow in size, and soon the reach the building, drowning the crowded tavern in bitter darkness.
It is an unusually active day at the tavern of Manywhistles. People of the most varies aspects lie cramped inside the old and small bar hall, standing atop wooden tables and chairs in order to grab some space. A foul scent, a mixture of alcohol and lack of personal hygiene, is predominant in the room.

The news had run far and wide through the capital city, under the noses of legality the underworld informed. Many have now arrived, summoned by Ikthor Norm, infamous dealer and robber baron, patron of smugglers and thieves across the empire. For long years not a single word from him had been heard, and now he appears with a new proposal of some sort, one that shall bring riches to those who decide to accept it. At least so did say the announcement.

A large, long-bearded man came walking downstairs. He wore a heavy armor made of thick brownish leather, and a massive club held tightly on his right hand. Everyone went silent upon his arrival. He was Berthold, Norm's first son and trusted right hand, famous for snapping a man's back with a single arm. And behind him came the father, wearing his accustomed blue robe and cape, covered in extensive ornamental symbols sewn with golden thread. He stood behind Berthold, a few steps above so everyone could see him. He rose his hands and began speaking, with a calm, educated voice.

"Be welcomed, adventurers and fortune seekers. I shall assume that all of you have already heard of me, so introducing myself would be a waste of our precious time. I also know to what kind of people I am directing my words, so I shall go straight to the bottom of it: Ladies, gentlemen, filth of society and crawlers of the underworld, my proposal is simple, a treasure hunt. Very well you all know where do we stand right now, at the outskirts of Valdstar, the blackened jewel of the empire, crowded with relics and riches that well worth more than all our souls collected. However, it is no news that my associates have obtained great wealth from such place already. So why do I need you, may you ask. Well, I shall tell you, that not everything that rests inside this carcass of a city is easy to obtain, specially this tiny artifact I have been hunting for quite a while already. It is beyond saying that our previous attempts to seize it have been rather... unfruitful, to say it somehow. So this brings us to our current situation, when I require you to bring me assistance. The news have been spread, the targets have responded, now it is time for you to bring that artifact to me"

As soon as Norm went silent, a burst of activity flooded the hall. People were discussing the issue, and shouting question in and out.

Metagame: You have come here after hearing the news. It is up to you, based on your character's background, to state why. Make each one an introductory post and then we can carry on the evolution of the event through IRC.

Xenon had heard from a a shady old man that a man named Ikthor Norm was gathering people to make a proposal to. He had heard of the name a few times being so self involved he never paid attention to the news that often occompanied his name. But the fact he knew the name and a proposal would be made drew him to the tavern since this would surely be a chance to make a name for himself.

Xenon stood against one of the walls, having a clear view of Norm and some of the people present and listened attentively to what the man had to say.

Apollyon had been drowning away his time in ale too much these days. Since the Kine River ambush, he'd been rather haunted by his memories of his comrades and friends being cut down wholesale by a flurry of black-fletched arrows. He'd been discharged after that, along with the other hundred or so survivors. So he'd taken to wandering and wound up here. Now his money was running short, and the promise of riches had drawn him in. It was either this or mercenary work guarding caravans, and this sounded much more promising.

So he sat, listened intently, and pondered his options.

Saemus Baelvan (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6809939&postcount=3) had traveled for some time from Elenior in order to help the Vol to the south, who were having tough times in their harsh land. Saemus had left home to seek glory away from his sisters constant achievements, around the time Saemus left on his noble quest, Koehma had become a fully fledged Druid and had surpassed his fame in the little quiet forrest he called home.

His travels were lonely, but Saemus found that nature provided more then enough company for his journey and mother nature provided for his every need providing his needs were berries and water from small pools of water. Still, he had learned to endure worse in this time so he was reasonably comfortable.

Along the way Saemus came across a carriage train which was heading in the general direction he was and managed to hitch a lift for a small price. Saemus had been given a small amount of gold for his travelling by his father, leader of the tribe back home. The carriage stopped for the night at a road side inn. These places were designed for these roads to be fortified to allow travellers a good rest between destinations; the trade routes were often long and took several days to reach from one location to the next. Taking in the comforts of the inn, Saemus brought some ale and stood near the large fireplace and thought about home. He had been travelling for some time now and it had been a long journey.

However, Saemus wasn't to be loney this night as three men propositioned him to them their group after noticing his longbow and assortment of weapons. They offered him a small amount of gold to join them on their journey to the capitol city of these lands, close to his destination, where they would hear what a local legend who had returned to the lime light had to say.

At first Saemus's gut instict told him to steer clear of these scarred men, they were not elves and their voices were deep and course. They looked as though they had seen action in their time... however, it wasn't hard for them to convince him, Saemus could hardly speak common enough to argue in anycase and they seemed to explain themselves rather well.

So Saemus joined these men, each one of them had a powerful horse which would travel much faster then Saemus could hope to travel by foot. It was a deal and Saemus joined them. As they travelled to the city the men talked to him of Manywhistles tavern and a little about it's infamous background.

Along the way they encounted a lone carriage, a short conversation between the men later they charged the carriage in order to raid it... it took Saemus a moment to realise what he had gotten into before he could get off one of the men's horses. In the wake Saemus was left alone as they fled their crime.

From that point on, Saemus travelled alone, his faith in humanity a little damaged. He could help the Vol by removing these men from this land... but he would need help, so Saemus followed them to the city the best he could, which wasn't too hard given that he was trained to track these sorts of criminals and their tracks were recent.

Upon arrival at the shady travern, it hadn't occured to Saemus to change his appearance... though it seemed he was lucky as the men were not here. In his leather armour, Saemus found a corner and listened to the man talk on the stage, he had made a interesting proposition and no doubt the men he was looking for would be searching for this gem. Saemus listened carefully.

At the edge of the room, a small, thin man seemed to be quarrelling in hushed tones with his backpack. He crouched down and whispered into his backpack in quick tones, “Why are we here again?” he demanded, “this doesn’t help our quest.”

Inside the backpack, a great black bird bashed its beak against a metal object of some kind, producing a ‘tink tink tink’ noise. “Listen,” he said eventually, his common sounding more than a little irritable, “You want to practice magic, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need resources, and contacts, unless you feel like spending the rest of your days reading palms and flipping tarot cards. This is how it’s done. Besides, the reward is likely quite useful in and of itself… then we can buy shiny things…”

“Damned crow. You and your shiny things.”

The sight of him promptly dropping the backpack under a table, accompanied by the startled croak of a large corvid probably wasn’t all that unusual around here.

"It be too bloody risky! -shouted a particularly thin man, who stood over a table near the tavern's door- Me bucko and I will never set foot on t' ruins without knowin' already t' reward. And it better be a good one!"

His words were followed by a serie of approvals and more shouts from among the small crowd. "Tell us already!" and "We don't do it if we don't know!" were some of the phrases spat at Norm.

The robber baron placed his hand on Berthold's shoulder, who was already losing patience. He then proceeded to speak, with his calm, fatherly voice "Risky it, but of course. Every single one of us knows how well protected it is, so breaking in is no easy task. But I did not call you all here for an easy task, did I? I would have done it myself if such -he let out a short laugh, which only found grumbles as answer- No, I need you, scums, to retrieve this relic and accept the challenge"

The thin man spat a brownish mass of liquid over the table and then spoke again "And I don't think we can face such trial without knowin' our reward" His tone was sarcastic "We be valiant, indeed we are. But our courage *needs* t' be maintained, and well paid" Laughs came from among the men and women filling the room.

Norm's face showed a barely noticeable smile, and his hand went to one of the inner pockets of his robe. It came out then, holding tightly a blue silk bag, tied up with a brown leather string. He opened the soft container and a glimmering cerulean jewel appeared, bathing Norm's face with crystalline light, refracted from the nearby torches. He stared at the beautiful multifaceted jewel, big as a human fist and crafted almost spherical "We found this gem a couple of years ago, during a treasure hunt at Bratar -he rose his eyes to meet those of the man over the table- I am willing to let it go to the one that brings me the relic I am looking for. Is it enough for you and your mates?"

The crowd stared in awe at the beautiful jewel. It was massive, few had ever seen one so large. It shone over the blue silk like a miniature sun, one made of clear water. It would cost a fortune in any of the markets. The relic must be worthy, then.

A short man that stood a few steps away from Norm, just in front of Berthold, muttered to the man standing besides him "You know, we could just take t' jewel and be done with this smartly" To his inconvenience, Norm had quite an ear, and he closed his hand over the jewel which instantaneously disappeared.

A shout came from among the crowd "It was fake! It was an illusion, witchery!"

"He's tryin' t' deceive us! I say cut his throat and steal his clothes!" Came once again the thin man, to which Berthold showed his yellowish teeth.

"It is called *security*, my good man. I did not reach this place by being an incautious fool. I will keep the jewel safely hidden until someone earns it"

"Blast ye and yer jewel. I'm not buyin' it" Came a woman near the door, who quickly turned toward it and walked out of the building. Three men and another woman went out behind her.

Norm opened his eyes widely "No, no, please, it is not a fake proposal. I do keep the..." His words were cut finish by a small dagger that went flying, to then nail itself in the wooden wall, just a few inches from Norm's head. The man, scared, turned around and went upstairs, while Berthold walked among the crowd to find the guilty. The attacker, a young man of middle built, made his steps quickly out of the building. Berthold only chased him up to the door.

The tavern slowly became more and more empty, people leaving among curses and complains. Only five figures remained.


Metagame: The five figures remaining are you five. You do not know each other, and are free to leave the tavern as well. Ikthor Norm had disappeared upstairs, and Berthold stands outside the building, warding for possible troubles from those who left. Stars are already populating the sky of this moonless night. We will continue this part via IRC.

Saemus Baelvan (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6809939&postcount=3) listened carefully; but his concentration was lacking and he was only listening to see where the others may turn up next. Then the talking man pulled out a large sparkly gem. It was the most beautiful thing little thing Saemus had ever seen as the light refracted of off the exspensive jewel. He didn't have much interest in such trinkets but he knew it would interest the men he was looking for.

Celeste looked around the entrance of the strangely shaped building that housed the tavern, and sighed, still covered by the delicate yet overused and ragged fur cloak that covered most of her figure. After all, she came to these barren and forgotten by the gods lands as a way to escape being recruited into a unfair crusade against the people that she admired in the shadows, and this shabby town and its strange people could serve to her purpose entirely, even more if she could find a job as an adventurer...Anyway, warriors trained by the army were supposed to be difficult to find, and to become a mercenary adventurer was the perfect way for a deserter to dissapear without being easily trackeable.

Her clear, blue eyes surveyed the entrance of the tavern, and finally decided to enter the place, just a moment after crossing the entrance opening covering her slim figure, clad in the classic scale mail of the Kingdom's soldiers, with her fur cloak, throwing the hood over her head, to disguise her clearly aristocratic and fine features from the eyes of the certain thugs and thieves that with no doubt were stalking the alehouse.

As she entered the tavern, a man was giving a speech about a proposal for an adventure, although she didn't pay too much attention to his words, so tired she was from the travel through the wastelands. Finding a seat, finally her attention was caught first by the gleam of a jewel and then by a dagger landing close of the talking man's head. "Interesting", Celeste muttered, under her cloak her hand quietly resting over the hilt of her sword for a moment until she realized that the danger was over.

"A quest, and one that it's not interesting for most of the cutthroats gathered here, looks like the perfect thing", she said to herself, before standing to look for the man that ran towards the door. Once she reached him, she stood behind him, and said in a low voice. "Food and the entire story about the relic, that's all I need. If I can get a share of the tresure so be it, but I'm not looking for money", she hushed to the man's ear, trying to disguise her voice as the voice of a young man.