conversations: human
conversations:  Welcome to the West Marches.
  
  Once an untamed land, the First Settlement was almost a century ago. However, between war in the East and the nature of the West Marches, it did not take long for civilisation to lose its foothold.
  
  Now, the only traces of the First Settlement are scattered ruins, untold treasures, and Hamborough, the last standing fort in the West.
  
  We find our band of intrepid adventurers in the Far West Inn, the finest drinking establishment in the West.
  
  Really, its the only one in the West, but still.
conversations: whiskytangofoxt:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ios 
  
  The past couple of hours, a plump and heavyset young nobleman has been puttering around the tavern. He's tanned, sporting a black van dyke beard which is decorated with dangling golden chains and beads and rings. His hair is wiry and jet-black, and he's wearing rich furs with fine clothing underneath, a lovely jade and gold fabric with  trimmings inlaid with delicate filigree. The ornate golden key dangling from a chain around his neck marks him out as a priest of Abadar, the law and civilisation focused Judge of the Gods. He wears brown leather shoes, well made, but perhaps not ideal for marching. He's carrying a dagger at his belt, and has a crossbow slung over his shoulder that is so well maintained and polished that it must see little use.
  
  He laughs easily, and loudly, and seems to be everyone's friend, or at least, endeavouring to be. He moves around the tavern, slapping shoulders, telling jokes, listening to stories- any stories, no matter how poorly told or longwinded.
  
  Finally, having exhausted the knowledge (or at least the patience) of the other tavern goers, he moves over to where the two dwarves, the halfling and the other human sit together. He rests his hands on the table and smiles warmly at everyone.
  
   "Hello, goodfolk! My name is Ios Septimus. I don't want to waste your time with trite pleasantries, so forgive me for cutting straight to the point; you each carry weapons. You didn't arrive with a merchant caravan or a nobleman's entourage, so you aren't hired guards. You must be here to explore. You two-"  he says, nodding to Dunngar and Ingka,  "Have the look of old soldiers who have fought together. You, good halfling, you're di Largesse. Aren't you the fellow that saved Reynauld and his friends from some trapped ruin, back out east? I heard him singing your praises. And you in the hood, I'm... not quite sure what to make of you, yet. But you're watching everyone in here with all the wariness of a cat. I think that's a righteous trait, for an explorer. Are you all heading out together?" 
  
  He takes the chain with the painted golden key from around his neck, and rests it on the table in front of him, as if it were a proof of his credentials in some way.
  
   "You'll want a good priest. If you already have one, well... you could do worse than to bring two healers. I would be pleased to join your company, if you'll have me." 
  
  He soberly regards each of you in turn, pausing to see how everyone is reacting to his intrusion. His sombre expression soon cracks into a smile.
  
   "Say yes, and the next round's on me." 
   
   Spoiler: Rolls 
   Knowledge: Religion   (1d20+6)[ 21 ]  To know about the "mythic history" of the nearby area, whatever that refers to, any gods popular in or associated with this place, and any undead that might be around. Casting  Guidance  before roll.
  
   Diplomacy (Gather Information)   (1d20+7)[ 19 ]  for information about the nearby area and opportunities to acquire riches. Casting  Guidance  before roll. Expending a use of  Silver-Tongued Haggler  to grant me +1 on the roll.
   
conversations: SlyJohnny:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ingka is sitting quietly, listening to the pleasant conversation among her peers as the brash Septimus offers his services. " And what'll you charge? " she asks gruffly, sneering as she waves the barwench over for another flagon of the hard potato liquor that they serve at the tavern. What they called "dwarven ale" tasted worse than her piss and was weaker than a gnome's fart, and she'd said as much the first time she'd drank it. But, fortunately for everyone involved, the barwench had wisely recommended their strongest drink, and Ingka had since developed a liking toward it. It didn't taste like much, almost like water, but it packed a kick and after four or five flagons of it, she could start to feel a slight buzz.
conversations: esorscher:
conversations: human
conversations:  "Aye, me friend's right." I ain't been 'ere in human lands long, but I know folks don't just com'an offer up services for free."  Dunngar said, warily eyeing the priest. He had barely touched his mug of ale. Couldn't stand the stuff, and was genuinely impressed that Ingka could swallow more than a mouthful.
  
   "If you knew more about these parts I'd have a mind t'hear ya out."  Dunngar's suspicion of humans was not without grounds. He had only just arrived, and his first real experience with outside folk was helping even the odds for Ingka in a four to one brawl.  "Else, ye got no business with us, and we've got no business with you."  He finished in a fatter of fact tone.
conversations: TheFamilarRaven:
conversations: human
conversations:  Gale 
  
  The child-sized Gale peers up from behind a mug that looks comically oversized in front of him.  His expression lights up at this strange human's recognition of his "deeds", and he puffs his chest out with pride, about to welcome the newcomer warmly, but darts his gaze back and forth between Ingka and Dunngar and his face cools unconvincingly.   "Yeah, definitely,"  he says with an affected, knowing air in the lowest tone he could muster (still octaves above even Ingka's).   "What're you charging, human?  Those fancy clothes probably take more to keep up than the entire haul, uh ... Raynard (?) and I pulled from that ruin."   He lifts the mug to his lips with his clenched fist, white-knuckled and trembling from having lifted the giant thing so many times and not taken more than a sip; the brown muck inside, quaffed in such high quantities by Ingka, burned his tongue and reminded him too much of drinking downriver from the town's privy.  Pretending to drink and wiping his mouth afterward, he sets the flagon down heavily and leans back, folding his arms behind his head.
conversations: Da'Shain:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ios 
  
  Ios doesn't seem dissuaded by the somewhat frosty reception, but takes it on the chin, as if he expected it.
  
   "Charge? Why, an equal portion of any treasure we find, bounties we earn, or wages we’re paid. A fair share, so it is judged."  Ios intones, solemnly. However he acts like the rest of the time, the priest clearly takes coin very seriously.  "We have no reason to trust each other, but if you have need of a cleric, then I have need of a group. If not... no hard feelings, eh?" 
  
  He meets Dunngar's gaze.  "As for my knowledge... church records of this area are piecemeal, but make mention of increased undead around sites of the massacres and atrocities that occurred during the First Settlement. If any of you know your history, we might know of areas to avoid." 
  
  He takes it upon himself to pull up a chair. He takes a swig from his tankard and then grimaces, staring at it accusingly.  "Gods above... I've pissed better beer than this. Anyway. About the surrounding area, those that came before us have already had most of the easier pickings... but Aelfric’s tomb is said to be relatively untouched. These locals all fear it. Now, maybe that’s because something genuinely powerful walks there. Or maybe there’s nothing there that the five of us couldn’t handle, and it’s simply not been attempted by a strong and organised group afore now. If it turns out to be too dangerous, we can turn away to explore elsewhere. But if we don't even check, a braver group may beat us there. It smells like an opportunity. We must at least investigate." 
  
  He frowns.  "I confess my ignorance of the noble bloodlines of this region. Do any of you know of Baron Aelfric? His history, his deeds? Did he a die a wealthy man?" 
conversations: SlyJohnny:
conversations: human
conversations:  Dunngar nodded approvingly, satisfied with the knowledge the priest presented.  "Well, ye know a thing or two then."  the dwarf said gruffly.  "An' I 'spose a priest'll come in handy, if there be shamblers walkin' about the lands. As long as an even share be enough for you, it'll be enough for me."  he finished, and took a sip from his tankard out of habit, forgetting that he was not in dwarven lands. Dunngar immediately regretted it, but swallowed the brew down none-the-less.
  
   "I ain't never heard of this Baron. Jus' arrived meself not a few days ago. But 'is tomb might have a bit more history in it, an' that's what I'm after."  This was true, Dunngar needed to know more about the area. He had no idea where Klatsh, the lost dwarven outpost was, and not a clue as to why it was abandoned to begin with.
  
  Then he stopped suddenly, realizing he had forgot his manners.  " Well, I be a bit daft today! 'Ere we are about ta work with ye an' you only know of Gale o're here. Me name is Dunngar!"  The dwarf said pridefully,  "Dunngar Honor-Axe! The human here who looks like he spends more time in woods then a tavern is Tsalith."  He added with a nod towards the ranger.  "And this be Ingka, a mightier lass I've yet to see!"  He finished, giving a Ingka a slap to her shoulder.
conversations: TheFamilarRaven:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ingka raises her mug in acknowledgement, and smiles slightly. If Dunngar said someone was alright, he probably was. The dwarf had been a good friend to her--her best, to say sadly but truthfully. Of course, there wasn't much competition. " An equal split seems fair enough. The tomb's as good a place as any to start your search, Dunngar, " she nods approvingly.
conversations: esorscher:
conversations: human
conversations:  Tsalith 
  
  Tsalith nods.  He wears his hood, even indoors, but they can not hide his vivid green eyes, exploring the room even as he sits.
  " I'm in.  I expect you'll need my skills traveling anyway. "
conversations: Smileybastard:
conversations: human
conversations:  "That we will."   Dunngar said.  "How long will it take ye ta prepare for a little wilderness march, Ios?" 
conversations: TheFamilarRaven:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ios smiles, and raps a hand against the side of his backpack.
  
   "I am supplied and ready. We could leave today, while we still have the light, if you gentlemen have finished scowling at your drinks?" 
conversations: SlyJohnny:
conversations: human
conversations:  Gale 
  
  Smiling broadly, Gale eagerly pushes himself off the human-sized chair and lands unsteadily on the ground, losing none of his enthusiasm.   "Indubitably!"  he cries, the giant stein forgotten on the tabletop.   "Welcome to the expedition!  Let's blow this joint." 
conversations: Da'Shain:
conversations: human
conversations:  Heh, ye excited, Gale?"  Dunngar said with a smirk. Then he turned by to Ios.  "I got a mule ready an' packed in the stable with a good amount of supplies for meself. I 'spose I be ready to make the trek out doors. But I'd rather rather hear from our experts. Is it a good idea to head out today?"  
conversations: TheFamilarRaven:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ios ***** his head at Tsalith and Ingka, assuming they are the "experts" in question.
  
   "Well? From your own knowledge, is a departure today promising?" 
conversations: SlyJohnny:
conversations: human
conversations:  Ingka swallows the remainder of her mug in a single tremendous gulp, then lets out an enormous belch. " It  is  a good day to die, " she says, a twinkle in her eye. " But adventure is also a fine proposition. "
  
   
   Spoiler 
  Survival:  (1d20+5)[ 24 ] 
   
conversations: esorscher: