Super Epic Awesome Fun Fantasy Adventure Quest

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by RiverNotch, Feb 26, 2014.

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  1. OOOOOOOKAY, yer all in a tavern. The tavern's name is "The Mud Pie", and local lore says it's named as such because its founder built it on where his now dead infant brother used to make his family-famous mud pies. Well, that, and the fact that the food served there seems almost inexplicably always covered in mud. Lots and lots of mud. Just like the whole tavern, too, as the tavern's a structure made of the classic wattle and daub construction (that is, made up of wooden beams for support and a mixture of clay and straw for walls and roof).

    Now the tavern's plan is essentially one-room, with all the important goodies (kitchen, tables, benches) placed around a central hearth. Upon the hearth is currently burning a nice fire, and upon that is cooking a lovely suckling boar. The boar smells delicious, and you imagine that if they do not apply their usual smothering of mud on it then it would be delicious.

    Speaking of imagining, you... well, since I don't really control you, I don't know what you're doing. All I currently know about you is that you're here, and that soon you'll be going there with all of the other you's here. That there isn't specific; I believe you should be the ones to figure that out. However, the direction by which that there is found is (I think) east, and the place from whence most of you came is west.

    Now the place where you are at now is a tavern, named the-wait, I already said that. Oooooookay... Well, the tavern's filled with people, so there... Lots of mead and beer flowing (no wine: too expensive), with stale bread, half-rotten vegetable stews, and overripe cheeses being served besides the boar... Some folks are drunkenly sleeping on the floor... hmm...

    Ah yes, I guess that's an important detail too. The tavern you're currently in is at the heart of the small village named "Washington", so named because of the house currently ruling over it, the house of Washington. Washington houses a small population (whose precise number I shall not give out, mostly because I haven't thought of one yet) of farmers, all of whom are serfs to the local noble house. In fact, they're the only serfs of the local noble house: the house, you see, is a barony. Or a baronetcy, whichever one is smaller.

    Anyway, Washington town, and also the surrounding territory, is rather peculiar for two things: the baronetcy has its own dialect, and the farmers here grow food using a three-crop rotation system. Now, since farming isn't going to be too significant to this tale, I'm just gonna elaborate on that other thing. Their dialect is comparable to what is Yorkish to English: in other words, very local in flavor, but very difficult to understand. So difficult, in fact, that most of you here would need translators just to understand what most people here are talking about. Luckily, the tavern-keep (His name is Wheatlad) knows how to stay his tongue. Unluckily, he's the only one who knows how to do so (at least, of all the people here in the tavern).

    I guess that's enough details for now. Oh, and a few other things:
    Firstly, there's no inn. Washington is a small, generally out of the way village, so people don't really expect to have any foreigners needing other beds here. If yer gonna sleep, you're gonna have to sleep on either the floor, or friends' houses (if you have any friends here. Then again, if you're a member of the church, then the local priory's a friend. A note though, the local priory doesn't like being disturbed by visitors this late at the hour: they're at vespers, y'see).
    Secondly, the local noble house is a few hours away, so if ye need to talk to the local lordlings, you'll have to wait til' next morning. And if you do anything wrong in terms of the law, well the sheriff will sort that all out (note that like the priory, the sheriff does not like being disturbed at this hour) (His house is located on a small rise a few "blocks" from this tavern).
    Thirdly, of other services here, well there's a mill and oven, located near the rather distant but not as distant as the lordlings' house river; two smiths (but only one of them sells proper weapons), both found near this tavern; a bunch of traders, located in a small square of tents adjacent to the smiths; a fletcher, found adjacent to the sheriff's house; an apothecary, found far from this town, bordering the woods where the lordlings (both of this baronetcy and of others nearby) hunt; and a tannery, located at an area about as far from the town as House Washington, near the local barn and cow's pasture. The priory, which also happens to supply this tavern with its beer, cheese, and mead, is found close to the apothecary; a small branch of theirs can, however, be accessed at the house right next to the town's church, located within the town proper. Do note that stuff such as twine, torches, and candles need not be bought from the traders (do that, and you'll be paying for more than twice the proper price): ask around, and you'll find some lowly peasant working on that trade. The traders only sell (and are only sold to with) rarities. No other taverns but this one, though.
    Fourthly, if yer money's in the form of denarii, it's of no use unless changed at the local mint, found in House Washington. Changed to worthless billons, that is, which are in turn useless to the traders, and to all other locations outside of this territory. Yes, money can be a pain in the ass here. Don't worry, though: you had all relevant currencies changed before you went here. Right?
    Fifthly, the peasants sound scared. If you want to slow down you're little as-of-now undefined adventure, you should go ask them about that.

    Oh, and last but not least, a bit of game mechanics. If yer gonna use magic right now when nothing's going on, well remember this: magic in this world (which, like a lot of other things, is as of now unnamed) is governed by prayer. All of yer magical powers come from gods and spirits, and appeasing them through either prayer, ritual, or sacrifice is the only way to access those powers. What those powers are, and how potent their effects are, is up to what the god you contact governs and how elaborate the rituals you perform in contacting them; such details are up to you, but please don't do anything stupid, like god-modding. So yes, celebrate that Jack Vance or mana controls not yer powers.
    And common sense and proper narrative flavor, please. No need for character sheets either: I'd prefer you describe yer characters in the actual story, like what I'm doing here (though what I'm doing here is turning my character's (the GM) style somewhat OOC, so lines are kinda being blurred). If you do want to make character sheets, well then go ahead. Oh, but do make sure that your first posts here contain everything most people would need for interaction: full appearance, current inventory, notable and visible personality quirks, age and sex, and so on.

  2. Additional details:
    Washington is among a large collection of baronetcies in the Great Kingdom of Lore (pronounced 'Lawr'), a- well, as the name suggests, great kingdom. It (the barotnecy) is a rather small domain, with only one village of serfs as its population. Washington is known for its three-crop rotation sequence and peculiar dialect, like I said a short while ago. It's part of the greater County of Dahgerround (pronounced 'Dah-ger-rund'), ruled over by house Argeehle (pronounced 'Arg-eel'). Of geographic note in this baronetcy are its close proximity to the river Aegehle, a feeding-branch of the river Ein, and its co-ownership the common-wood (a forest jointly owned by multiple noble houses) Pehlargy, a fairly large, mostly deciduous forest, producing some of the best bow-yews around, and supposedly housing some nasty poachers. If you're traveling eastward, you'll have to pass through both the common-wood and the river. The sygil of house Washington, by the way, is nonexistent: they use house Argeehle's standard, which is a two river-trouts kissing each other.

    Now, as for the kingdom, well, it is very great, with its primary industries being... well, nothing special really, as Lore's a pretty self-sustaining economy, importing from foreign lands only materials exotic, such as silk, porcelain, fancy glassworks, sugar, and spices. In fact, Lore doesn't really sustain itself as a whole; instead, its individual noble-houses sustain themselves, and only pay taxes to the king (ie, feudalism). It has two major cities in it, Loreehnberg (pronounced 'Lawr-en-burg') and Einfleehce (pronounced 'Ain-fleece'), with Einfleehce being the larger of the two. Loreehnberg is the supposed capital district of the kingdom, with its close proximity to the king's palace; Einfleehce, meanwhile, is the commercial district, being city guarding the mouth of the river Ein, the river that cuts deep into the heart of Lore, and the main passageway for domestic traders. Einfleehce is east of Washington, and Loreehnberg, north. The name of the current ruling house of Lore is Ramsebohdy (pronounced Ramsbody), and its sygil is a large white eagle perched on top of a small yew-tree.

    The kingdom is religiously governed by the church of Mahlder, a polytheistic church with a focus on the god of archery and hunting, Mahlderhse (pronounced 'Mawl-der-see'). The church is a parallel to the Catholic church in terms of rites, processes, and structure, with the primary difference being that instead of having one head pontiff they have three, each of whom has to know how to shoot a bow. Other than that, they're pretty much the same (so if you dare endorse anything heretical, you're gonna get hunted down). Doctrines, however, are a different matter, best explained over the course of this tale. Mahlder, by the way, also governs the kingdoms north and south of Lore.

    For Lore, society is, like I said, feudalistic, modeled after the German High Middle Ages. Environment is also akin to Europe's at the time: clime is nice and temperate, geography's rich but rocky, and woods are either boreal or deciduous. Lore is also (if you didn't catch this earlier) a coastal kingdom, though the coasts are in no way a great part of it. To Lore's east lies the sea, to its south lies the "Lesser" kingdom of Hauhmare (pronounced 'How-mawr') (actually bigger than Lore), to its west lies the Rahgeryn mountains (which are also the source of all of the rivers running through the kingdom), and to its north lies that large Kingdom of Jarle (pronounced 'Jarl', as in the Scandinavian term). And I guess that's all you need to know so far.
  3. The smell of the boar and the warmth of the fire made Vincent feel just at home. He was from a small village not quite unlike this one.

    The leather armor he donned along with the small steel dagger on his hip, (a hidden one in his boot as well!) betrayed him the look of his profession; a thief. Complementing the look was his dark, close cut hair. He had a small bag of coins on him, uncounted but known not to contain much, and his pack with three days worth of trail mix and his sleeping mat. As he sat by the fire he peered around for anyone else who looked to be a foreigner so he could have a normal conversation without having to say 'what?' after every other word.
  4. A young, handsome, red-headed barmaid, with a dress full of holes and a stench full of rot, approaches a shelf on one end of the room, dodging every little obstacle in her way with an admirable finesse. She grabs a pitcher and a couple of cups from this shelf, then with the same level of grace as before she approaches you.

    In front of you, this lovely little barmaid (whose left breast is now exposed after a bit of a snag on one of the pillars she dodged on the way to you) speaks in an accent you can't understand. As she speaks, however, she motions at the pitcher she's holding, and says something that sounds a lot like "mead" to you.


    To your left sit two gentlemen, both wearing clothes as wholly and smells and unholy as the tavern-wench, discussing something with same odd accent. You can't understand both of them, of course, as they both look like peasant-natives, but you do notice that bit of fear in their voices, a fear that you often notice in the little game-talks among children in the days of the dead. Perhaps something profitable is afoot here?
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