B
Bismarck
Guest
Original poster
Perhaps a few seconds had passed after you entered the tavern, before a massive brawl broke out. Swept up in the chaos, you perhaps managed a few swings, before a man beckoned to you, to follow him downstairs. He seems to do this with several others, guiding them away from one of the nastiest fights the bar has ever seen. Blood, food, even teeth, and perhaps what appear to be small appendages such as fingers are splattered across the floor above.
...
Yet down in the basement below, things are calm. A table with chairs for everyone is set, and at the head is a rather imposing man. Old, but still built like a half-giant, rather than a human. He wears little more than a tunic, with the sleeves torn off, and a set of black canvas pants. Asking everyone to take a seat, things upstairs seem to be settling down finally, as the last few punches are being thrown, and the clattering of crashing furniture is down to nothing.
...
"You all know why you are here. I am a courier, and the head of this entire ordeal. As you know, the kingdom has fallen under the worst times it has ever seen." The man explains, his accent is very thick, suggesting he from the far north. The massive bear fur cloak hung up across the room confirms that suspicion further for anyone with an observant eye. "This is because the right of succession was broken. The king was assassinated, and the true heir to the throne, resides in the care of my tribe. I come to you asking for your help. To recover several items, of great power." He pauses momentarily, looking toward the stairwell, his hands tensing as he seemed to expect some sort of company.
Though when no one came, the barbaric man settled back down. There was always a rumor that those of the tribe, had some sort of sense against danger. A warning that most would never experience, which helped add to the legend of their insane durability and strength.
"These relics, will help us to oppose the current king and his devious allies. If we do not do this, the kingdom will fall, and with it, an uncounted amount of souls. A majority of all the major races will be slaughtered, by plague, starvation, and the beasts which currently only lurk in the darkness of the world." Each word that left the man's mouth were very serious, and anyone that had been paying attention lately, would have noticed the recent turn of events. Food was becoming more scarce, and the amount of sick was starting to pile up, until the clerics couldn't handle or contain it.
"So I ask you, the few who I have arranged for this meeting. Will you join me? Or will I have to try and kill you all, so as to keep this secret mission entirely safe." He asked with stern gaze. his hand resting on the hilt to the massive blade that was leaned against his chair. White hair, and a white beard. A mid section that seemed to have lost most of its muscle, and arms that while quite strong looking, still were showing the signs of aging. Him being able to kill everyone in the room was not likely, but being able to splatter the blood of a few across the walls before he dropped, was more likely.
...
To briefly explain this, this roleplay will be set in the Forgotten Realms, a D&D setting which I've come to enjoy over the last years. However generally speaking, it will not have anything to do with the current, and ongoing stories related to the Forgotten Realms. However one can expect mention of famous locations, perhaps even notable characters that have shaped the world into its current state, before my own creation of a story begins.
This entire roleplay revolves around what would be considered political intrigue, adventuring, and of course combat. As explained above, without specific names. Waterdeep, one of the most influential cities within Faerun, as the majority of the region is know, had lost its ruler. To what most assumed was a horrendous accident. However the tribes of Icewind Dale were bestowed with the truth, by a member of the noble court, who took the child of the king, and managed to run as far away as possible.
She bestowed the care to the Tribe of the Elk, one of the stronger tribes within the Icewind Dale region. They were granted the son. However as they heard of the growing troubles to the south, they took it upon themselves to try and do something about this. So they sent one of their oldest champions, the wisest member of the tribe. The 'old' man wandered, a greatsword on his back, and a several notable tomes in his bag. His goal of course was to seek out young, and skilled adventurer.
To put this in D&D terms, your characters on the general scale of level 1-20 for raw power, and ability would rank at a seven or an eight. To put it another, less number based way, a level one may be the equivalent of a brand new adventurer, a mage with little to no experience. Whereas a level twenty adventurer would be an archmage, with powers great enough to almost bend reality.
Each character would be recognized by most of the Sword Coast where they reside, at least by the peasants, and the more common folk. However nobles wouldn't know them well, no would anyone of incredibly high standing in general at the moment. Though bands of thieves, and perhaps even monsters may hunt these adventurers out of spite, for how much power they have gained.
All of the characters created, would have been called in by the wandering barbarian, purely for their reputation being good enough to warrant them as companions to be trusted, however just under the radar enough to make it easy to set up a meeting, and get on with the mission at hand.
I'd be seeking more advanced posting generally, with well developed characters. However until I see several interested souls, I will not be dedicating time to a character sheet, or character creation on my end. Though the story is on its way already. I do hope to have a dedicated cast of players, who will not abandon me, or leave within a few pages. This is meant to go on for a fairly long term period.