• PM To Join • [Foster's Landing] Whiskey after a rough journey down

Finally Arriving in Foster's landing the group splits up and gets to work.

With the escalation of hostilities between Etzos and Rhakros, a series of small walled towns is being established as a network of early warnings and defenses against Rhakros' reprisals. Only the very bravest and most formidable of characters should risk themselves on the Witches' Wilds frontier.

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Gangui
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[Foster's Landing] Whiskey after a rough journey down

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Ashan 22, 717, High Noon
A small run down bar on the outskirts of Foster's Landing
The smell of salt was a sensation completely new to the barbarian. Taking deep breaths and closing his eyes, he enjoyed the moment. After thirteen trials, the group of adventurers and mercenaries entered the boundaries of Foster's Landing. The journey along the Southwood Road had been short, but none the less grueling. Facing the mundane, yet incredibly annoying tribulations of wagoneering through rough unkempt dirt path kept the group busy on their way to the Etzorsi bay town.

Opening his eyes once more, Gangui finally let loose a smile as they could finally start their quest for the relics and statuettes. The first thing that the group rolled up on was an open aired structure that seemed to be connected to the perimeter of the city. A dozen rough looking drunkard and whores sat around drinking and listening to a lone bard's slow and lazy tune. The roof was made out of several rusty sheet of some low quality metal and was held up by brick pillars. The floor was packed in dirt on which sat mis-matched boxes and barrels which was supposed to pass for furniture.

Swinging a leg off the horse, Gangui motioned the wagon to stop. There was no need to make any arrangement's yet, not before a drink at least. Walking up to bar, everyone hanging around merely looked at him before returning to their drinking and conversing. Unbuckling his helmat he placed it on the table and greeted the bartender happily, "I'll take a bottle of whiskey and... and give each of them a mug ale," Gangui waved at all his companions.

Taking a load off, he took a deep breath and sat down on the table as the team gathered up. Removing his gauntlets, Gangui took a long drag from the bottle of whiskey, nearly drinking a quarter of the bottle, "Ahhhhh," Gangui sank low in his seat, "Never again will I travel with such a terribly built wagon on such rough roads. From now on I am going with only with a quality wagon,"

Handing the bottle off to the Lothar they had hired, he took a similarly long pull from the bottle before passing it to the next person, "Aye, me too, me too!"

Gangui spoke up in between the shots of liquor, "Alright everyone, we got more work ahead of us. I've been thinking on this for awhile now on our way here... This quest is going to take us longer than we think. We are going to rent a place to stay and stable our horses and hide our goods.... We are also going to have to investigate the exact location of this sunken ship..."

When the bartender brought the tray of mugs to the table, she requested payment from Gangui. Willingly offering payment he returned his attention to the group, "I am going to go purchase a base of operations and meet back with y'all here at dusk, we will go from there," As the bartender walked away, eyes and ears in the bar turned onto him, because he had paid 10SN for 5SN worth of drinks.

The armored man that Nightshade Eld seemed to think was the most trustworthy, took his shot of liquor then spoke up next, "I'll watch out wagon and horses here until then Gangui,"

"Great," Gangui drank on his ale to quench his thirst and ease the burning from the dark whiskey they had consumed, "But we can't all sit around here, we need to find out where this damn ship be sunken at and of course any opportunity to gain money, our gold will only last us so long,"

New to being a leader, Gangui wasn't confident in his decision to split the group up into individuals, but his will to get things done quicker is what led to that decision.
word count: 665
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Moon
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[Foster's Landing] Whiskey after a rough journey down

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Ashan 21, 717, Dusk
In the Ocean near Foster's bay

Within the depths of the ocean, a Mer by the name of Moon was getting settled in a new waterscape. The waters were calm and gentle on this trial and the coral before moon was full of life and colour. Moon prowled around the magnificent structure in search of the prefect area to nest after his long journey.

He spotted a crack with his wide lensed eyes and hesitantly moved towards it. The space was suddenly filled with swirling tentacles and the glaring eye of an Octopus who broke from its camouflage. Another hole nearby was guarded by the gaping maw of a moray eel. Both creatures would make lovely meals if Moon had the skill or energy to spear them, for now they were simply in the way.

As Moon slowly lost his already low tolerance, an odd glimmer caught his attention from a near by rock formation. He narrowed his vision to get a better look but even from a few feet away the object was a formless blur, so he swam closer.

Before he could close the gap in space, A beautiful creature appeared from behind the rock. She was a porcelain skinned female with delicate features that would drive most human men wild. Her long rust coloured hair flowed about like streams of blood as she lifted her head up and met eyes with Moon. In an instant her sparkling green eyes opened up wide in fury and her lips receded to reveal rows of sharp pointed teeth. She slithered towards Moon using the massive eel tail that swayed behind her.

<< What is your intent?! >>
The female projected telepathically with images of her teeth viciously tearing into the flesh of her last victim to show her deadly prowess.

<< To find a Nest! nothing more! >>
Moon quickly projected his fear but none the less held his spear out ready to strike her if she got too close.

<< Are you an enemy to Sallura? >>
The mer stopped rushing forward and looked at Moon intensely while she waited for a response.

<< No >>
The giant six armed eel Leviathan was a peaceful matriarch to the many families that comprised the Minisink tribe. She didn’t have many enemies other than Mer who were foolish enough to steal her children’s plunder. Moon had never seen a leviathan in person but he had heard stories of them and hoped in this instance that they were true.

<< Good we need more males for this seasons swarm >>
Her message wasn’t intended to be flirtatious like it likely would be coming out of a human, it was cold and carried no emotion.
<< You can make a nest over there >> She projected the image of a nearby cave within the Coral just a short swim away. It was in a place moon likely wouldn’t find on his own.
<< I killed the last owner after he stole my treasure, don’t be foolish like him.>>

<< I won't >>
Moon lowered his spear slowly but his twin hearts still pounded in his chest, he inhaled a deep breath of ocean to calm his nerves.

Before swimming away the same glimmer he spotted before caught his attention. He squinted with his weak eyes, to get a better look and with enough effort he determined it to be small land dweller made of a smooth metal. It laid on a rocky platform out in the open and likely wasn't placed there intentionally.

<< Does that interest you? I could make a trade. >>
The female offered but there was an aftertaste of impatience with her telepathy that made Moon weary.

<< Not at this time >>
Moon quickly swam away before he angered the other mer, who seemed to have a short temper and a thrust for blood. She wasn't at all what Moon expected from a member of the Minisink tribe.

Last edited by Moon on Thu May 11, 2017 2:20 am, edited 14 times in total. word count: 654
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Noth
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[Foster's Landing] Whiskey after a rough journey down

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Ashan 12, 717
Just Outside of Etzos


It was getting closer! Breath hauled in his chest as he raced through the forest, feeling weeds and branches slap against him with force amplified by his sprint. His breath hauled in his chest as his lungs struggled to press him forward. It wasn’t so much the pain in his feet that was slowing him, but rather his inability to continue sucking in air, despite the fact that he knew he would die if he stopped his movement. Beads of sweat dripped slowly down his cheeks, falling into his eyes and stinging them with their salt. He swatted at his face, feeling assorted pieces of vegetation stick to his forehead as he did so, but he had little time to contemplate them.

The smell of cheap alcohol still flooded his nostrils every time he exhaled, and he despised himself for having gotten so terribly hammered that he had decided to venture outside of Etzos. Someone had dared him to do it, and by goodness, Paul Santos would pay for that, but not now! His mind told him to continue his fleeing sprint, but his lungs protested against that movement, aching within his ribcage as he doubled over, attempting to regain his composure. Was it even still following?

A harsh rustle sounded from behind, and he began to turn, not quite quick enough to deflect a large body from slamming into his side and sending him skirting to the ground. There was the slightest clinking noise of metal, and in his stupor, he wondered whether or not a blade had been drawn. He tried to crawl, but the harsh sensation of having his head make contact with the ground coupled with his exhaustion and inebriation, and forced a line of thin bile to shoot harshly from his lips, spilling out onto the ground and giving a nearby weed a fair watering.

He glanced back, attempting to register the monster ahead of him. It was a beast whose eyes glared into his very soul, and were bright like glowing fire. Something hefty and cold pressed against his chin, and he stumbled backwards, attempting to remove himself from the club-like instrument that had touched his flesh only moments prior.

“Still.” It commanded from an unseen mouth, its voice the purest representation of wickedness the man had ever heard. His blood all but stilled within his body, the only noise between them his pulsing heart which he felt certain the creature could hear.

“You have trespassed, drunkard. Now you face punishment!” The monster roared, raising its mace in the air, and spreading out a wing which seemed quite capable of blotting out the sun itself. He moved his hands over his head, assuming a defensive stance in order to futilely stop the damage that he knew would occur. He shouldn’t die, not like this! He would have spoken had fear not silenced his tongue, but all that came out were pleading mumbles and whines more befitting of a dog than a man.

“Silence. If you will tell me all of the things you know, then I shall release you.”
It spoke, stepping closer and lowering its mace back to its side. The man nodded enthusiastically, accepting the invitation before feeling something harsh and inhuman clutch at his thigh.

“Of course, if you lie, then it will be to your detriment.” It spoke, adding a slight hint of weight to its talons, and allowing them to press into the man’s leg.


Ashan 13, 717

A raggedly and scared individual would deliver a letter inscribed in crude ink, and with a line of blood along its top, apparently in an attempt at aesthetics, perhaps for the purpose of tradition:

“My allies,

It has come to my attention that there is a small expedition moving towards Foster’s Landing, with the apparent purpose of recovering some manner of valuable. They are likely an inexperienced group, because my sources were unfamiliar with their faces.

Certainly, this would be a splendid opportunity for us to profit. I trust that you will agree wholeheartedly with that notion.

So as not to compromise our plans so completely should one of my letters be captured, I will inscribe only your particular role in the coming operation into the next sections. We shall meet soon, and discuss my own role, though I presume that you know it already.

We shall meet within the next trial upon the dock at…” The letter describes several location based directions.

To Marrow:

“I know that you are not an inherently combative individual, and yet also not of the acting expertise of our compatriot. Normally, I would recommend that he perform any activities involving deception, but I admit that your position and knowledge of the subject matter likely suit you more readily to the role. You are to infiltrate the expedition, and act as an insider into their activities, as well as providing support should it be merited through your abominable creations.”

To Mammon:
“You shall accompany me throughout the majority of the operation. Whilst I am aware that you are not a splendid combatant, I trust that you shall do well against the inexperienced, and your advanced age shall assist us greatly in operating a proper strike upon our foe.”

word count: 884
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Credit to Pegasus


As a note: Noth is a Grandmaster in Intimidation. That means that he's at least as scary as the Count from Sesame Street. Beware.

"The tyrant confuses those he can't convince, corrupts those he can't confuse, and crushes those he can't corrupt." - Anonymous
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