When in Windshire (IC)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Chulanowa on 16-12-2016, 08:48:19</h2>
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				Title: <strong>When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chulanowa</strong> on <strong>16-12-2016, 08:48:19</strong>
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				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's an overcast mid-spring morning in Windshire. A light fog is just starting to break up, though wisps linger towards the river. The hamlet is already busy, bakers and wainrights and grocers having already started their business before light. What's dominating the business of the town though are preparations for a festival; one of the holy days of the Sovereign Host is fast approaching, and small teams of women and more helpful youngsters are putting garlands of tulips and unripe wheat up along the main avenue of the town. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You are here for another reason. On a hill overlooking this town is Windshire Keep, which despite the name is more a manor; only a single stone tower on its southeastern corner gives hint to its original function. This is the home of Count Tarnik ir'Weld, and the word is that he's hiring for some business or other. Individually or as a group, the lot of you have inquired, and been told to return today, so here you are. The gates are open, a cobbled path lined with well-tended flowers curves up the hill towards the north side of the main house.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Bibliophilia</strong> on <strong>19-12-2016, 02:17:03</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/35/cb/3a/35cb3ac7c6ea676714cb56a4b2e10351.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Ebba Losho</span></span></strong><br><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Race/Class: Cacklebone Oracle 1 (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1024676)<br>Status: Normal<br>Str: 14(+2) Dex: 14(+2) Con: 13(+1) Int: 14(+2) Wis: 10 Cha: 16(+3+)<br>AC: 17&nbsp; HP: 9&nbsp; Init: +2</span><br><hr><br>Ebba passed through the gates of the residence, her spear in one hand, used as a make-shift walking stick from which leather cords, braided and adorned with bits of bone, hair, carved stone and glass beads, dangle.&nbsp; The assortment of odd trinkets clattered softly against one another and the hard wood her spear was carved from, serving as the only herald of her arrival, as her bare feet did not so much as whisper against the stones.&nbsp; Her dark eyes, betrayed by a hint of orange-hued animal shine when viewed obliquely, rose to gaze up at the house as she slowly approached, her lips set in a relaxed line.<br><br>She stopped at the door and knocked firmly, her hand falling to her side as she waited.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>EndofDivine</strong> on <strong>20-12-2016, 04:55:53</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://db4sgowjqfwig.cloudfront.net/campaigns/14025/assets/677015/843dd3fb92f2a11b6fbb7f0d2d6e91e4.jpg?1482198845)</div><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Valindra</span></strong></span> (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=989885)<br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Elf Eldritch Archer Magus</span></span><br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">AC: 17 HP: 9/9 Init: +4</span></span><br><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Fort: +3 Ref: +4 Will: +2</span></span><br><hr><br>A large chestnut horse lumbered through the busy streets of Windshire, a thin stripe of white running down the center of a head that bobbed with each step and matching white reaching various lengths up each of its legs. This horse wasn't bred for the task it was currently performing and had been performing for months. It was meant for speed and agility - wind whipping through its mane as it traversed desert battlefields - not the slow, arduous task of cross country travel. Exhaustion and the fact it had been little more than a pack animal for the longest time did little to dampen the animal's spirit though; its head was still held high and there was a natural pomp in the way it trotted. It was, after all, still a horse of Valenar.<br><br>Its rider held a similar air of dignity, her posture in the saddle perfect despite the trying trip. Very little could be discerned about the rider mounted atop the magnificent beast, covered as she was. Firstly, the rider was most certainly female; her silhouette being far too slender to be anything else and there was a noticeable, though slight, curve beneath her foreign garb. The scarlet cloth wrapped about her head hid her secrets well but not perfectly, an outline of her facial features left to hint at the beauty beneath and long, pointed ears pressed against the fabric to betray her heritage. The elven woman's pale blue eyes were the only thing left bare to the world and they now danced along the path before her, darting this way and that, studying one face only long enough for her gaze to be noticed before swiftly moving to the next. The last thing she wanted was to give some merchant reason to bother her. As far as she was concerned, humans rarely had anything worth the coin spent outside of food, a bed, and the occasional drink.<br><br>A festival. She could gather that much about her surroundings just judging by the merriment on each person's face and the floral aroma hanging heavy in the air. It was a smell that was exceedingly rare to her nostrils and she found offense from it in a way only a desert dweller could. Back home, flowers were few and far between, precious things of beauty to be treasured. But here? They heaped them upon everything, wore them in their hair, even scattered petals across cobblestone. They were flaunting wealth much as their lords and ladies would, squandering resources in a way that left those who had spent their whole life without speechless. Two clicks of her tongue that barely masked her disgust and the horse beneath her quickened its pace to put the spectacle behind them without a single groan of protest or care to the pedestrians standing in front of it. Charging through a throng of people without losing its footing was part of the horse's training; he would be fine.<br><br>The leather straps of the horse's reins rested loosely in the woman's lap as the horse's pace slowed before the gate. They were practically a formality at this point; rider and mount had been together long enough that the horse could be guided with either her voice or her legs, assuming it didn't already know what it should be doing. Valindra's acute elven eyes scanned the keep during her approach, her mind already turning toward military matters. The fortification was a pitiful sight, its only saving grace being its location atop the hill but she still figured the town would be lucky to make it to nightfall if faced with a host of her brothers and sisters. Inside the gate, her gaze fell back to ground level, searching about for a pale looking human in ridiculous clothing that would no doubt be a servant. She had business to attend to, trivial as it likely may be, and had no desire to delay things if she could help it.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Andi</strong> on <strong>20-12-2016, 23:47:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Steelclaw had arrived in Windshire early in the morning the day before; as he usually did when he was on no tight deadline he was aware of, he did not bother with any of the usual means to travel, but simply walked, one foot in front of the other, day and night. He paused at the war memorials, pretending to be a statue guardian for an hour or two as he passed them, out of respect for the fallen of the War, but those were the only interruptions he permitted himself.<br><br>Steelclaw still found the notion of free time unusual; having been dismissed from the keep and told to return tomorrow, he wandered the streets of Windshire for a few hours before finding a smith's shop in town and politely inquire if he could rent use of the facilities for a few hours. He might as well be at his best appearance for the meeting with the local count, and it had been a while since the last time he had the chance to scrape and re-oil his joints, clean his armor plating, make sure all the load-bearing parts of his body were still in good order. That done, he did the same for his armor and visible gear; the work kept him busy for a while, and gave him a sense of accomplishment that would allow him to meditate for the rest of the night.<br><br>Steelclaw was not interested in the festival; he was here on business. There would be time to celebrate later. His armor plated body gleamed in the morning sun as he made his way across town, careful not to step on any of the children but much more indifferent to whether he made any of the adults leap out of his way or not. Passing the streets and the city gates the moment he could, he trundled his way up towards Windshire Keep.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Silver Phoenix</strong> on <strong>21-12-2016, 12:03:44</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/118/7/f/captain_by_shuangwen-d3f38xf.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">SERAPH (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1027084)</span></span></strong><br>Male Android (Bladebound Magus 1)<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision</em><br><strong>Hp:</strong> 10/10; <strong>Arcane Pool:</strong> 5/5<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>Immune:</strong> disease, emotion-effects, exhaustion, fatigue, fear, sleep-effects<br><strong>AC</strong> 15 (flat-footed 10); <strong>Fort</strong> +4, <strong>Ref</strong> +4, <strong>Will</strong> +2; <acronym title="+4 vs. mind affecting effects, paralysis, poison, and stun effects.">constructed*</acronym><br><br><strong>Languages:</strong> Common, Aklo, Abyssal, Celestial, Draconic<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> backpack, black katana, traveller's outfit<br><hr><br>Entering the town of Windshire, Seraph took a moment to adjust the straps on his backpack as he surveyed the town.&nbsp; As far as he could see, it was a pleasant enough place, which made him wonder as to the nature of the help that was needed.&nbsp; He sincerely hoped it didn't have anything to do with clearing a cellar full of rats or the like.&nbsp; Even if whatever errand the Count had in mind didn't prove to be unsatisfactory, it might not be bad to hang around the town and observe the festivities - though he was generally irreverent, the way that people conducted their lives was always of interest to him.&nbsp; Steely blue eyes surveyed the colourful scenery for a moment longer before setting sights on Windshire Keep.<br><br>Despite the long journey, Seraph showed no signs of weariness from the trek which he had done almost all on foot, except for the odd caravan or boat trip and only the dustiness on his boots and lower trousers hinted that he had been walking for a long time.&nbsp; As he approached closer, he could see that others had arrived ahead of him - undoubtedly also seeking to see what Count ir'Weld required.&nbsp; Unconsciously, he tried to straighten himself to full height to present a more imposing image to emphasise his chosen profession as a mercenary.<br><br>At the very least, it seemed that ir'Weld's request has garnered the attention of some colourful people.&nbsp; The count's 'keep' however, didn't seem quite so impressive by comparison.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CarnivalOfTheGoat</strong> on <strong>23-12-2016, 23:32:15</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Myranya rolls over in the straw, grumbles and gives her dinosaur a lazy kick to get it up and stirring. She's browbeaten a few innkeepers into letting Little Glutton stay in her room, but it pretty much always turns around and bites her...Usually things go better when she just secures stable-space.<br><br>The halfling picks a few pieces of straw out of her hair and runs her fingers through it, straightening her dark locks before getting her mount up on his feet and saddled. <br><br>"You are staying right here until I come back." she growls at the young allosaur, catching its lazy eye a moment&nbsp; and combing her fingers through its yellow-and-grey plumage before lightly headbutting it to remind if of its place (right here! nowhere else!), and setting off towards the inn proper.<br><br>She's still straightening the feathers of her own mask when she bumps into one of the barmaids and inquires after Ebba. "Too tall? Dark and mysterious? Ate everything in the house last night?" ...and apparently not here in the morning. Despite the barmaid's assurance the halfling stalks upstairs with the air of one of those small dogs who doesn't realize that the rest of the world is larger than it and assures herself that the skinchanger is, indeed, gone.<br><br>Myranya secures her dinosaur and makes her way to the hill and its fortification, ignoring the bustle and fuss of the town (who knows what they're on about this time? and who cares, as long as they aren't angry at her). The only notice she seems to take of the festival setup is to acquire a roasted chicken by dint of refusing to be denied and waving coppers around.<br><br>Approaching, she notes Ebba's familiar figure, as well as an elf mounted atop what she ajudges by its mien to be a warhorse, and the hulking mass of the warforged looming above a smaller, slighter swordsman. A choice bundle of trouble, she thinks to herself. Probably rife with all sorts of mad ideas about how to do things. Well, the first task is to find out what they're here to do...<br><br>The others see a somewhat heavyset halfling woman, barbarously clad in fur and feathers, and with a mask tossed back behind her head like the hood of a cloak. Said feathered mask looks suspiciously similar to the facial patterns of the allosaurus that's following behind her, making begging, half-grabby motions at the chicken she's chewing on. <br><br>She steps up with a grin and a belch, finally tossing the remains of the carcass to the trailing reptile which snaps it out of the air with a rather spectacular display of sharp teeth.&nbsp; "Chanjan! Hah. Lespri wouldn't know you." She glances upward, shading her eyes. "The sun's only half as high as it gets and you're already out of bed!"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Bibliophilia</strong> on <strong>26-12-2016, 08:00:09</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/35/cb/3a/35cb3ac7c6ea676714cb56a4b2e10351.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Ebba Losho</span></span></strong><br><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font">Race/Class: Cacklebone Oracle 1 (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1024676)<br>Status: Normal<br>Str: 14(+2) Dex: 14(+2) Con: 13(+1) Int: 14(+2) Wis: 10 Cha: 16(+3+)<br>AC: 17&nbsp; HP: 9&nbsp; Init: +2</span><br><hr><br>She watched the others join her on the estate, amusement crinkling the skin at the corners of her eyes and curling the edges of her full mouth.&nbsp; The faint smirk bloomed into a full-blown smile revealing a great number of stark white teeth when she saw Myra, her raspy laughter filling the courtyard momentarily.&nbsp; "Lespri would fall over dead from a heart attack if he could see me now, Myra.&nbsp; And it's Ebba now.&nbsp; I left behind my old name when I left the plains."&nbsp; She strode forward and bent to hug the far-shorter woman, then straightened and shaded her eyes to look over the rest of them with a cocked brow.<br><br>"I assume we are all here for a job?&nbsp; Well, hopefully he needs many hands of diverse skills, or at the very least allows us to fight one another to the death for the position."&nbsp; Her voice was a low-pitched, husky drawl that conveyed both sarcasm and supreme chill at the same time, as if everything she said was both the wisdom of the ages and utter bullshit.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Silver Phoenix</strong> on <strong>26-12-2016, 08:28:06</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/118/7/f/captain_by_shuangwen-d3f38xf.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">SERAPH (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1027084)</span></span></strong><br>Male Android (Bladebound Magus 1)<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision</em><br><strong>Init:</strong> +4; <strong>Hp:</strong> 10/10; <strong>Arcane Pool:</strong> 5/5<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>Immune:</strong> disease, emotion-effects, exhaustion, fatigue, fear, sleep-effects<br><strong>AC</strong> 15 (flat-footed 10); <strong>Fort</strong> +4, <strong>Ref</strong> +4, <strong>Will</strong> +2; <acronym title="+4 vs. mind affecting effects, paralysis, poison, and stun effects.">constructed*</acronym><br><br><strong>Languages:</strong> Common, Aklo, Abyssal, Celestial, Draconic<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> backpack, black katana, traveller's outfit<br><hr><br>"Well, I'll hope for the former rather than the latter," noted Seraph with a sigh as he leaned back against a wall as if feeling the effects of fatigue.&nbsp; Amongst other things, he was still trying his best to blend in with humans and many found that a person who just came from walking and suddenly stopped, standing stock still like a statue, was a little unnerving.&nbsp; "Since we may have to get to know one another in some way or other, they call me Seraph, though some prefer Ser or Seph for the sake of brevity.&nbsp; I do not mind either way."<br><br>Those gathered certainly looked like a rag-tag ensemble, but, for now, Seraph was reserving judgement on that angle - his travels often taught him that people were often more than what they looked.<br><br>"Has anyone heard anything about the job required by the owner of this place?&nbsp; It was a little vague, but I figured a man such as this would not be looking to hire for small tasks that he surely has underlings to take care of."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chulanowa</strong> on <strong>28-12-2016, 21:39:45</strong>
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				&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The walk towards the keep was purposely winding, taking the five past well-tended gardens and stonework. Servants were occasionally seen; dressed in work clothes, tending the grounds and preparing for the coming festival. There were a few curious glances, but most had the good graces to let their lord's guests be. <br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When the motley group arrived at the front of the manor, Ebba spared no time to rap on the thick, well-carved door. There was a moment's pause, allowing the group to converse briefly, before the door smoothly and silently pulled open. Valindra got her servant alright; but this was no liveried, pale, dandy. Standing - almost filling - the doorway was a <div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">bugbear</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/e6/ad/bf/e6adbfa72d6d0ea88fe0b5654774882d.jpg)</div></div>, dressed in plainly-colored (though finely tailored) clothing, his hair combed back, beard neatly braided, tusks nicely polished. There's even a slight hint of musk perfume around him. The overall effect might be comical, if not for the raised scars on his face that the Cyrans among you might recognize as denoting military rank among the Darguul.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The bugbear man's beady orange eyes widen in surprise as he takes the five of you in, each in turn, narrowing slightly after a moment. When he speaks, it's in a rich bass, each word carefully enunciated around his fangs. "Excellent, Lord ir'Weld will be expecting you in the courtyard. Please allow Devren to bring your beasts to the stables, and follow me." He steps out of the doorway, sweeping one broad arm into the interior, as a young human comes forth, asking permission from both Valindra and Myranya before guiding their animals to said stables.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The inside of Windshire Keep is high-ceilinged and richly appointed, though far from opulent. The lack of windows is made up for by numerous everburning lamps set into the walls and paintings of the Aundairan and eldeen countryside, and the stone floors are softened by dense rugs with weaving floral patterns. Their guide, when he walks, has an odd gait - not quite a limp, but something similar.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: When in Windshire (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Silver Phoenix</strong> on <strong>30-12-2016, 22:46:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/118/7/f/captain_by_shuangwen-d3f38xf.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">SERAPH (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1027084)</span></span></strong><br>Male Android (Bladebound Magus 1)<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision</em><br><strong>Init:</strong> +4; <strong>Hp:</strong> 10/10; <strong>Arcane Pool:</strong> 5/5<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>Immune:</strong> disease, emotion-effects, exhaustion, fatigue, fear, sleep-effects<br><strong>AC</strong> 15 (flat-footed 10); <strong>Fort</strong> +4, <strong>Ref</strong> +4, <strong>Will</strong> +2; <acronym title="+4 vs. mind affecting effects, paralysis, poison, and stun effects.">constructed*</acronym><br><br><strong>Languages:</strong> Common, Aklo, Abyssal, Celestial, Draconic<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> backpack, black katana, traveller's outfit<br><hr><br>The bugbear was an unusual touch, but it didn't surprise Seraph overly beyond the fact that the servant was an oddity in itself - the lord of this place could hire whoever he wanted, after all, and it wasn't his place to question the man's choices.&nbsp; All things considered, the scars on his face were, if anything, a badge of competency if nothing else and the bugbear was, at least, not only for show.&nbsp; Although he has some questions, he kept them to himself, watching as the servants came to take care of the horses.&nbsp; Seraph saw very little point in questioning a servant on the matter of the job since there was little chance they might know the details.<br><br>Following in as the bugbear bid them, Seraph took the time to look around the mansion as they made their way to wherever the bugbear was taking them - the lack of windows was of particular interest, though for now at least, he could tell why.<br><br>"Is Lord ir'Weld a lover of art to have so many in his house then?" he asked the bugbear, trying to strike up a conversation to get a feel of the unusual servant.
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