conversations: human
conversations:  Starting Day: [roll]200[/roll]
  7th Day of Summer (of 5)
  Time is 12:00:00
  
  You enter the village of Thorn-Baker with nothing but a loaf of bread, 200 coins, and the clothes on your back.
  
  There is a blacksmith, an inn, a market, and a church along with a handful of houses in the small town.  Luckily the weather is clear, and with a mild breeze as you feel you are about to start on a long journey - you are on a quest to become a famous and renowned hero by slaying the keeper of the Damned Dungeon in the Kingdom of Koarl (50 miles east of here).  Only known heroes are allowed in at all, so you'll have to gain some reputation before entering.
  
  A few people walk around outside near you under the noon-day sun, including an elderly woman and a tall dark-haired man.  The old lady leers at you.
  
  (I'll let you gear up and get out on your own, good luck!)
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  Stupid rng  (1d200)[ 57 ] 
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  I put on my best face, and kindly inquire of the woman for a quest.
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  7th Day of Summer - (Cloudy)
   
   Spoiler 
   I realize earlier I wrote 'out of 5' I meant 50 - each season has 50 days here. -Sorry
   
  
  12:02:03
  
  The elderly woman spits on the ground indignantly.   Not from me, beast!   The man walks forth, asking the woman if you were bothering her too much.   I just see the devil in him, ya know?   The man eyes you sternly for a moment, then winks.
  
   I heard you were asking for a quest?
  
  Look, I've ne'er heard of you but I'd say the church always has a task at hand for you to do, if you don't mind workin' for free.  They know everybody who's everybody though. 
  
  The old woman mutters,  If they could trust a crazy old demon like you...  as she walks off towards a village hut.
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Hm. How ironic, a church." He flicks his tail at the old woman before she runs off, then nods his head to the man before he goes on his way. At the church entrance, he works tucks his tail into his cloak, then works a simple glamour, just a cantrip, to seem a bit, less demon-ey, then walks into the building with a stride, demanding a quest.
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  12:32
  
  As you enter the church a man greets you from the door.
  
   You want a quest, demon - I'm a man of holy order, I can see it in your eyes, don't try and hide it from me.  By Lord Feyloon and all that is holy, you want a quest? 
  
  You are greeted by quite the gentleman, you see.
  
   Then quest you shall get.  I'm not here to judge, but it is by Feyloon's mercy that you live:  you must hear me on that!  Then sir, and you must tell me your name, I'll take this as your recognition of your evil - complete our quest and I'll accept you as a brother... everyone from here to the kingdom shall except you as a brother. 
  
  After his suddenly changed demeanor, the man leads you through the eight rows of pews and back towards his podium and the front and through a door to the side.
  
  Inside the room you see stacks of books and letters...  We love you humble Feyloon, give us ours - what shall we do for you?  mutters the man, and reaches for a stacked piece of parchment.
  
   Bring us the head of this sinner. 
  
  You open the folded piece of paper, it reads:   Richard Bluetooth, Blacksmith 
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  "My name is Brandon", he lies, "and I will bring you his head. Where does the man reside?"
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  Spoiler 
   Sorry about the color switch, but even sorrier about burning your eyes with the yellow.
   
  
   Good question, my deep thinker and brother Brandon.  Of course during most days he is at Thorn-Baker 's only blacksmith, but where is he at night?  
  
  The man smiles.
  
   Well, he sleeps... in the basement of the blacksmith.  There isn't much business you know, especially with us shunning him as we do - not that he doesn't deserve it; fool sold swords to known killers. 
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Ah. Could you possibly point me to this smithy?" After learning that, he leaves the church, heading to the smithy and loitering until nightfall.
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  7th day
  8:39 - Nightfall
  
  The night is breezy, but dark.  You can see alright, though, as demons are naturally good at seeing in dark places (ooc:  hey, its a bonus, take it! ;) ) You've nibbled on your bread in the past few hours, being only slightly hungry and more tense than anything.. the elderly constantly give you funny stares.
  
  As you arrive at the smithy you notice it is of above average construction, using metal frames on the windows, which wail with the wind.  The main door is wooden, though, and there appears to be a back entrance as well.  Furthermore, you notice during preliminary investigations that there is a small drain/draft-vent near the base of the siding that has been left open.  You may, with some struggle (or magic) be able to slide through it even at your current size.
  
  As you look at the roof, you notice three chimneys; one nearest the front door stands alone and two other tiny ones are grouped together near the back of the smithy's house.  One of the tiny ones has occasional sputters of smoke coming out of it.
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  I wait until nightfall, until he's surely asleep, then cast a spell to make myself a bit smaller, squeezing through the draft. Inside, I look around for weapons and the like, specifically a dagger of some sort.
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  8th day of summer
  01:14  Chilly
  
  The chimney has stopped blowing smoke.
  
  As you drop into the downstairs part of the building through the side-shaft, you realize you aren't in the store proper at all..  you are in the man's house, full with a living room.  In here there are a couple of oil lamps fixated to the walls, both currently out, a basic rug, a couch and a table with a glass bottle or two on top of it.  Also in the far corner there is a bookshelf, with various books placed about haphazardly.  There are three obvious exits:  to the left (near the front of the building, if you recall correctly from outside) there is a single door and to the right there are two doors:  one of which the wood flooring continues under and one in which it does not, you instead see a metal border strip under the door.
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  I go over to the door with the metal strip and try it, very quietly. If it is locked, I'll head over to the door next to it.
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  1:16
  8th Day of Summer
  Drizzling
  
  The roof starts making a soothing *ding-dang* sound as rain slowly starts to pour from the sky.
  
  You open the door with the metal stripping and slowly creak it open, very aware of the noise.  As you peer inside everything seems to be okay as there in no one inside the room.  You see iron and jewels inside the room as well as large stone tables and heavy stone hammers.  In the back of the room is a curtain conceiling what seems to be another room, you sense heat coming from it.  On the table you see a (ooc:  yeah, its a traditional weapon, so I'm doing this... but bear in mind anything can be used as a weapon)  malformed encrusted short-sword  with the end bent, left uncompleted.  The entire sword, only seven inches long including the two inch handle, is made of metal.  The handle appears to have notches that might later have been fitted with a wooden or leather handle.  The guard of the handle has three holes in it, one of which is fitted with a small emarald.
  
  Beyond this, the room is filled with stuff.  It has drawers and cabinets, the whole thing could take many minutes to search thoroughly.
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  I pocket the jewels, and then take a suitable weapon (Are the hammers practical? If not the short sword.) I cast a spell to lengthen the sword for a few minutes, then leave and go through the other door, the one next to this one, very carefullt and sneaky-like.
conversations: Gorgondantess:
conversations: human
conversations:  OOC:  About Magic
  
  It now seems to me that we might need a more regulated magic system, ya know?  I want to know your thoughts on the idea.  Out of combat situations, and basic magic away from other people, shouldn't need to be checked but some dire situations I think it should.  Maybe a system based on how complicated the magic is?  like roll a d100 and 1-5 was a critical failure 6-15 is a fail 16-95 is a success and 96-100 is a critical success.... except a different scale for varying difficulties?  How does this sound to you... or would you prefer it if I just told you whether or not the magic failed?
conversations: painintheear:
conversations: human
conversations:  Originally Posted by painintheear 
   OOC:  About Magic
  
  It now seems to me that we might need a more regulated magic system, ya know?  I want to know your thoughts on the idea.  Out of combat situations, and basic magic away from other people, shouldn't need to be checked but some dire situations I think it should.  Maybe a system based on how complicated the magic is?  like roll a d100 and 1-5 was a critical failure 6-15 is a fail 16-95 is a success and 96-100 is a critical success.... except a different scale for varying difficulties?  How does this sound to you... or would you prefer it if I just told you whether or not the magic failed? 
   
  
  I would prefer an arbitrary system- but in the end, as long as it follows my general idea, I'm happy.
conversations: Gorgondantess: