conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MalinGenie: This is the thread for any discussion or questions about the game and general OOC chatter.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: So who all got in? Or are we supposed to wait for the game to start?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Haberdashery: I did, I'm not sure about any others though.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: Seems we have a ranger, a monk, a witch, and my fighter.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Haberdashery: Cool then, I'll be sure to build my character sheet with healing capabilities.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Sir Sanguine: MalinGenie actually asked me to revise my character because the party was too melee-heavy, so I'm making a cleric.
  
  She's definitely going to have the Knowledge domain, but that's all that's set. If there's anything we're missing, I can work it in. (Is there?)
  
  (So Haberdashery, you don't NEED to put in healing. You can, though.)
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Haberdashery: Mkay.  I'll keep a few healing spells in my familiar, but I won't focus on healing.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: Well, do we have anyone that can handle traps at all? Only thing I can think of that we may be lacking...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: Seems we're still missing one check in...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Sir Sanguine: (Anna:  http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetvie...sheetid=226726 )
  
   Entering Far Reach: 
   
   Spoiler 
  
  Anna sat uncomfortably in the caravan. She had given up trying to make pleasant conversation with the driver after the first two minutes of the journey. No matter what she said, the short, unshaven man just swiveled, grinned toothlessly, and turned his head back to the front. The carriage she was in bounced and shook as it rolled over the cracks in the road.
  It had been a good while since noon, when a sensible person would have stopped for lunch, and the sun was bright and hot. Anna was beginning to think that she was not a sensible person. She had been suspecting this ever since she had asked for passage on the caravan in the first place.
  
  "I'm sorry, lass, didn' think I heard you properly. You want to go  where ?
  "Far Reach."
  "Far Reach?"
  "Yes, that's what I said."
  " Far Reach ," the driver had said, putting an impressive amount of incredulity into his voice.
  "Yes! Far Reach! Look, I can pay you dou... triple  the normal rate. And I travel light." She had pointed at her meager pile of armor and rations.
  "Ma'am, for that kind of coin I would drive a balor back to hell," he had said, grinning toothlessly for the first time, and not the last.
  
  When the caravan finally arrived in Far Reach, the sun was beginning to set. They rumbled to a stop just outside the town borders. There was silence for a few seconds, as Anna looked out the window. Far Reach looked beaten-up. And dirty. Anna sighed, and she instinctively reached for a chain around her neck. It was woven of tiny, interlocking iron rings, and decorated with the Zarrow family crest. Hung on it was a small replica of a sword, which Anna touched lightly with her fingers.
   Why am I here, Grandpa? , she thought.
   WELL, YOU WANTED TO BE , the air and the sword said to her.
   Not really. Mom basically kicked me out and told me to go seek my fortune. 
   ELYSA WAS FOLLOWING TRADITION. EACH DAUGHTER OF THE ZARROW HOUSE MUST LEAVE TO SEEK HER FORTUNE ONCE SHE TURNS EIGHTEEN , said the wind outside the carriage.
   Yeah, yeah, I know. But why HERE? This is a crazy place to seek anything. 
   YOU CHOSE HERE. MAYBE YOU ARE CRAZY, HO HO. 
  "Don't call me crazy, voice-in-my-head." Anna muttered out loud, forgetting about the driver for a second. "But what the hell am I supposed to do here? Start asking random strangers if I can kill orcs for them?"
   GOOD START. YOU ARE SMART. AND YOU HAVE YOUR GRANDAD. 
  "Are you serious? Just go around asking for quests?"
   BY MY UNBREAKABLE ARMOR, YES ALREADY. YOU ARE MAKING ME VERY TIRED. 
  "Grandpa, you're a divine spirit."
   JUST BECAUSE I'M A WHOOSAWHATSIT DOES NOT MEAN I CAN'T GET SOME WELL-DESERVED REST , muttered the rain the had begun to fall. Anna shook the talisman again, but heard nothing except a vague impression of snoring. She rolled her eyes. Then she put the talisman away and gathered up her belongings and her armor.
  
  At the door, the driver held out his hand, grinning wider than ever.
  "Crazy lady, I would like the money now."
  Anna blushed a little bit, then immediately got angry. "I'm not crazy! Maybe those were powerful demons I was talking to right there! They could eat you alive! With nary a GESTURE from me! A GESTURE!" She waved her arms in what she hoped was a threatening motion.
  "I am very scared. Money."
  Anna reluctantly paid him every last coin she had left, and stepped off the carriage, which sped away into the receding sun. She was getting rained on. It was getting darker. The town of Far Reach sprawled before her, and beyond it, like a sea, lay the Barrens.
  "Light, please," she said.
   ZZZZZZZ.  The sword talisman started glowing like a torch, and Annabeth Zarrow walked into Far Reach.
   
  
   From The History Books: 
   
   Spoiler 
  Grandpa Zarrow (Maxmilian Zarrow) was a great paladin, noted in particular for his slaying of Grakhslath The Many-Tounged and his tireless work against the cults of Typhon and Loki. He was widely adored as not only powerful but wise, kind, and a family man. He died peacefully, of old age, on the same day his only granddaughter turned six. His belongings were donated to temples as per his will, though his legendary sword was never found and is now thought to be stolen. May his soul exult in the Heavens.
   
  
  
  So basically (pending DM approval) my cleric will "worship" the spirit-Grandpa that lives inside her holy symbol instead of a deity. Spells, domain powers, and whatever else will all actually just be Anna channeling his power. Or maybe it's all in her head and she actually IS a cleric! Either way.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: arrowhen: Originally Posted by Ipphli 
   Seems we're still missing one check in... 
   
  
  I'm here! Between work and my girlfriend's birthday this week, I haven't had any time to post. Sorry about that.
  
  As far as dealing with traps goes, Torian grew up learning the skills of a woodsman, but ran off to the big city in his adolescence where he fell in with a gang of con-men and thieves. It wouldn't have been unreasonable for him to have picked up a point of Disable Device from his time among them. It won't be  much  help, and I don't plan on advancing in the skill unless RP factors lead otherwise, but it's better than nothing.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Haberdashery: Finished character sheet.
  
   http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetvie...sheetid=227175 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Sir Sanguine: At level 3, Anna and Esmerelda can cast Find Traps. I think we might be able to cast it from a scroll before then, if we find or can buy one.
  
  (Might I add that Witches are really cool.)
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Haberdashery: Oh yeah, that's true.  So they can point out the traps, and Torian can disable them.
  
  And yeah, I agree, witches are very cool. 🙂
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Sir Sanguine: So when should we expect to start?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: arrowhen: Torian's  character sheet .
  
  Torian's intro:
  
   
   Spoiler 
  
  Torian scratches at his neck as the wagon bounced its way into Far Reach. The new beard itches, and still takes him by surprise any time he catches his reflection, but it serves its purpose -- no one back home would have ever imagined him unshaven, his hair ragged and unwashed, his fine Highgarden Street fashions replaced with dusty leather and travel-stained wool. No one back home --
  
  He stops himself.
  
   There is no "back home", not anymore. There's only "right here". 
  
  The merchant caravan rolls to a stop and Torian finally allows himself to relax. He hops nimbly down from the guard perch of the lead wagon and stretches, groaning contentedly as the bones in his back snap into something akin to their proper positions.
  
  The caravan master hands him his wages.
  
  "Return trip in three days. You on it?"
  
  "No, I reckon I shall remain here for a time," Torian says. "See what opportunities present themselves."
  
  "Suit yourself."
  
  Even Torian's voice has changed over the last few weeks. Grown softer, slower, more thoughtful, a voice far removed from the affected nasal tones of Ulsian high society or the brash, intricate cant of that city's Thieves' Quarter. It is, he realizes, the very echo of his father's wilderlander drawl. After so many years trying to distance himself from his rustic roots, it seems Torian has come full circle at last.
  
  With a rueful grin he shoulders his longbow and his pack, striding off in search of a cold drink, a hot meal, and, with any luck, work to keep mind and hand busy.
   
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: I think we were just waiting for our fourth to finish. Hopefully now we'll start.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: So has this died?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Sir Sanguine: Our DM hasn't posted anywhere since July 23rd.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: arrowhen: *sigh* ☹️
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Ipphli: I'm done checking up on this. If this gets going, send me a PM.