CH. 01 - Road to Icewind Dale
Sept 16, 2018 14:43:37 GMT -8
Post by Daos on Sept 16, 2018 14:43:37 GMT -8
Drezden Thunderoak
Much had happened in the last year, since Drezden said goodbye to his newfound friends in Daggerdale and departed. It would have been nice to stick with the group a little longer, but everyone had their own things to do. Eringard needed to return to Shadowdale to report to her superiors, and Maria went with her, feeling the all powerful Elminster might be able to protect her from her enemies. Elvarian muttered something about returning home to Arabel for some reason or another, and Gribben said something similar about returning to Silvery Moon. Gimak decided to stick around for a bit, to help the Brightblade dwarves get settled back into Eagle's Eyrie. Zedd had his father's estate to take care of. Margarita, always looking for more coin and fame, headed east toward Hillsfar. And suddenly, Drezden found himself alone again.
So he packed up his things on a mule he bought and named Jack, and decided to head west. There was a whole wide world out there to explore, and he wasn't going to see any more of it staying in one spot forever. He and Jack traveled through the Anauroch Desert with a traveling caravan along the Black Road, then stopped in Loudwater for a spell. Hearing word of goblins up in the High Forest, he headed there. He spent months in that forest, communing with nature and fighting goblins. He learned a great deal about them, how to fight them, what their weaknesses were, and so forth. And for a time, it seemed he may have found a new home. But Jack could only provide so much company, and he began to miss talking to people. And so, he drifted northwest until he eventually arrived here in Luskan, City of Sails. But it didn't take long for him to want to leave it again. More like the City of Pirates and Scumbags, really. He had never found a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.
While looking for work, preferably that involved leaving the city, he stayed at a shady, poorly lit inn known as The Cutlass, down on the docks. The ale tasted like piss and he suspected that the only reason his filthy bed wasn't filled with bugs is it was too cold this far north for them to survive.
It is the morning of Tarsakh 16th, 1368 DR, when Drezden steps out of his room, tries to ignore the crude sounds coming from next door (the 'waitresses' that work here often 'entertained' customers up in the empty rooms), then makes his way down the stairs (careful to avoid stepping on the passed out drunks), to the common area below. There are only a few conscious people in the common room at this hour, and they all appear elven.
One is a moon elf with golden brown hair and hazel eyes, dressed in dark green leathers with a dark brown cloak. There's a sheathed long sword on his belt and a quiver of arrows and a short bow slung over his shoulder.
Another is a second moon elf with long, dirty blond hair and seagreen eyes, dressed in greens in browns, as if he were trying to blend in with a forest instead of sitting in a dive bar. He, too, has a sheathed long sword on his belt.
The third one looks to be only partly elven, but clearly has human features, too. He has dark brown hair and grey eyes, and looks fairly muscular. He wears very fine chain mail and carries a nice looking spear on his back.
Jaxle Longbranch
Jaxle had come a long way from Evereska, fleeing the authorities after the rest of his guild had wound up imprisoned. He had headed west, at first, to Waterdeep. Surely he could easily get lost in such a large city. But he was mistaken. Mercenaries found him, and he was forced to head north to Neverwinter. And now, here to Luskan. Surely they wouldn't pursue him further than this, would they? But just to be safe, Jaxle felt it wise not to linger here too long. The sooner he could find work that would take him out of here, the better. For the time being, he was staying at a shady, poorly lit inn known as The Cutlass, down on the docks. The ale was about as good as one would expect from humans (which is to say, not at all), and the rooms were disgusting, but it beat sleeping on the ground in the wild, especially with winter on the way.
Currently, he sits alone in the common room. It is the morning of Tarsakh 16th, 1368 DR and at this hour, few customers have woken from their drunken blackouts. But there are a few people up and about. One is another moon elf with long, dirty blond hair and seagreen eyes, dressed in greens in browns, as if he were trying to blend in with a forest instead of sitting in a dive bar. He, like Jaxle, has a sheathed long sword on his belt.
Another looks to be only partly elven, but clearly has human features, too. He has dark brown hair and grey eyes, and looks fairly muscular. He wears very fine chain mail and carries a nice looking spear on his back. Despite staying at such a crummy establishment, he looks like he comes from money.
The third is a dwarf coming downstairs now. He is dressed in green and brown clothing, like an elf might, and is wearing studded leather armor. He has a broad sword on his back and a hand axe on his belt.
Dallion Elvenmere
Dallion is on a sacred mission from his people, the Tel'Quessir, but when he stepped foot out of his homeland three months ago to hunt down those elf-killing orcs, he never imagined he would wind up in a place like this. The city of Luskan was basically little more than a port of call for pirates, but with a smear of legitimacy over it. He had tracked the orcs this far, and suspected they had traveled even further to the north, in the frozen lands known as Icewind Dale. He currently is staying in a disgusting dive of an inn known as The Cutlass, down by the docks, hoping to find a caravan heading that way, as he was unsure he could make the trip alone. The ale was about as good as one would expect from humans (which is to say, not at all), and the rooms were disgusting, but it beat sleeping on the ground in the wild, especially with winter on the way.
It is the morning of Tarsakh 16th, 1368 DR and at this hour, few customers have woken from their drunken blackouts. But there are a few people up and about. One is a fellow moon elf with golden brown hair and hazel eyes, dressed in dark green leathers with a dark brown cloak. There's a sheathed long sword on his belt and a quiver of arrows and a short bow slung over his shoulder.
Another looks to be only partly elven, but clearly has human features, too. He has dark brown hair and grey eyes, and looks fairly muscular. He wears very fine chain mail and carries a nice looking spear on his back. Despite staying at such a crummy establishment, he looks like he comes from money.
The third is a dwarf coming downstairs now. He is dressed in green and brown clothing, like an elf might, and is wearing studded leather armor. He has a broad sword on his back and a hand axe on his belt.
The third is a dwarf coming downstairs now. He is dressed in green and brown clothing, like an elf might, and is wearing studded leather armor. He has a broad sword on his back and a hand axe on his belt.
(OOC: You can choose your spell for today.)
Malavar Mantice
Malavar had traveled much in his time as a sellsword and a priest of Tempus. He had seen and smelled horrible things that would cause a lesser man to pass out at once. And yet, he couldn't remember smelling anything as bad as Luskan. The city seemed a monument to corruption, decay and unabated hedonism. And here he was, the son of a baron, a loyal follower of the Lord of Battles, a master smith and a well known mercenary, sitting in a shady inn down by the docks called the Cutlass, which reeked of cheap booze and piss. How the mighty had fallen.
But this was all he could afford, at least for the moment. He was only in the city because he had made a simple delivery, a beautiful long sword he forged himself to the High Captain Rethnor. Now, he had no reason to remain. He kept his ears open for work, hoping to find a caravan that was leading anywhere but here, that wouldn't mind having a strong warrior who could offer the blessings of the Foehammer along, and willing to pay him what he was worth.
It is the morning of Tarsakh 16th, 1368 DR and at this hour, few customers have woken from their drunken blackouts. But there are a few people up and about. One is a fellow moon elf with golden brown hair and hazel eyes, dressed in dark green leathers with a dark brown cloak. There's a sheathed long sword on his belt and a quiver of arrows and a short bow slung over his shoulder.
Another is a second moon elf with long, dirty blond hair and seagreen eyes, dressed in greens in browns, as if he were trying to blend in with a forest instead of sitting in a dive bar. He, too, has a sheathed long sword on his belt.
The third is a dwarf coming downstairs now. He is dressed in green and brown clothing, like an elf might, and is wearing studded leather armor. He has a broad sword on his back and a hand axe on his belt.
(OOC: You can choose your spells for today.)