Hello, and welcome to the Kaverns & Kobolds Klub!
In this thread, I, the dungeon master, will be honing my skills in hosting a third edition dungeons and dragons adventure over an online medium, with a team of four promising adventurers who embark on a a treacherous quest. On their adventure, our heroes will encounter magic, monsters, tragedy, treasure, traps, and much much more. Will they survive the ordeals I've prepare for them? The dice shall decide their fates.
Our story takes place around a small mining village known as Duvik's pass:
Duvik’s Pass is a small town nestled within one of the few valleys that cross through the Serpentcoil Mountains. It has long been a waystop for travelers and adventurers seeking to rest aching limbs and drown painful memories within her gates. Moreover, it has also gained attention recently as a potential power in the area’s commerce, due to a discovery of substantial silver deposits buried in the mountains nearby. Over the past three years, the men of Duvik’s Pass have burrowed into the ground seeking the wealth therein. Able-bodied folk from neighboring villages flocked to the town, hoping to lend their strength within the mines and garner some share of the prize. A wide variety of creatures may have had their own reasons to cross these mountains, but it was the smell of silver that drew the nose of a certain merchant-wannabe some time before our story takes place.
Schlomo Goldsteinbergwitz Jr. was a young goblin who travelled across this region some six months ago. The goblinoid came from a rather prestigious family of (((merchant))) Archivists in a far away region, and like all in his family, he had a nose for silver, the silver of Duvik's pass. Schlomo Jr. had only just finished his bar mitzvah and unpacked his presents when he got wind of a the prospects that'd been dug up in the promising town, and so he made off towards those very mountains, taking a dozen of his uncle's irreplacible bank notes with him. Infuriated, his uncle, Harold Goldsteinbergwitz, placed a heavy bounty on the theif's nose, prosising a reward of 4,000 gold pieces to whoever could bring back the young prospector, alive.
It's for this reason that our heroes, to be described, have gathered in Duvik's pass. Each of these young lads happened to pick up wind of the bounty as they were crossing the mountains. They've traveled far for the chance at fortune, perhaps even bumping into eachother once or twice along the way. The four cloaked figures enter the town at different entry points, stopping and asking less-than-friendly commoners for directions that may lead them to their fortune. To call the townsfolk unfriendly would be an understatement, as each of our four cloaked heroes would find brutally clear as they make frustrated ill attempts to communicate with the locals. The entire town seems to be on-edge, paranoid, and almost hollow in some ways. Our four unnamed heroes would find that the promising village of Duvik's Pass isn't all it was cracked up to be, at least not since a grim misfortune that had befouled the town long before their arrival.
Hope and industry of Duvik's Pass turned to despair and potential ruin with the advent of the Burning Plague four months ago. It began quietly enough, with the miners returning home from their work at nightfall complaining of blistering sores and an unbearable thirst. Shortly thereafter, the town’s livestock was decimated by an unknown illness and her crops began to wither. The elders of Duvik’s Pass declared that the well water had been soured by an unknown disease, but by then the Burning Plague had already begun claiming the young and the sickly. To make matters worse, the last few men still strong enough to plumb the wealth of the mine have yet to return from their last endeavor. The townsfolk know not what happened to their loved ones; they continue to await the return of their missing sons and husbands, while praying for an end to the sickness that continues to spread within their home.
Needless to say, few of the despairing commoners have anything nice to say to the cloaked strangers traveling about the town looking for clues to the whereabouts of the goblin merchant; some turn away in disgust, others point in various directions, some even throw rocks, but most of them just shrug in ignorance. Frustrated and annoyed, the four cloaked figures eventually find themselves marching across the town in the same general direction; they shuffle awkwardly alongside one another, trying and failing to avoid eye contact, perhaps vaguely aware of their common prospects. Together, willingly or not, the haphazard squad make their way to the town's largest pub and community center: The Old Plot Hole Inn. One by one, they squeeze past each-other through the doors of the tavern.
/vx/ - Videogames and Paranormal
1357 replies and 81 files omitted.
The first to make it in is a rather athletic young lady, bounding towards the front of the squad and kicking through the doors like a marathoner, hat and cutlass in hand and ready for adventure. The girl is none other than our hero: Isla Allaway.
Our little explorer stands just over 5 feet tall, but what she lacks in height she makes up for with enthusiam, letting out a shout so loud and annoying it can only be that of a fantasy protagonist. The girl has the speed and litheliness of a fledgeling ninja warrior, her medium-length brown hair flowing behind her as she dashes to the scene.
The little hero, physically fit and trained and carrying herself with martial discipline, has traveled from afar to test her mettle and sate her hunger for adventure and self-perfection, chasing the path of Setting Sun. Her explorer's outfit and matching hat seem well-worn, having seen more than their fair share of weather since she first hopped off the ship all those months ago. The young martial artist makes her appearance.
>"[indignant grumble]"
>"That was fast!"
>"Rather cocky, ain't she?"
>"Look at the thighs on that one."
>"She a wild one, I'll tell ya' that."
>"Damn foreigners."
>"Oh look, fresh meat for the beasts.."
>"[lecherous whistle]"
Our little explorer stands just over 5 feet tall, but what she lacks in height she makes up for with enthusiam, letting out a shout so loud and annoying it can only be that of a fantasy protagonist. The girl has the speed and litheliness of a fledgeling ninja warrior, her medium-length brown hair flowing behind her as she dashes to the scene.
The little hero, physically fit and trained and carrying herself with martial discipline, has traveled from afar to test her mettle and sate her hunger for adventure and self-perfection, chasing the path of Setting Sun. Her explorer's outfit and matching hat seem well-worn, having seen more than their fair share of weather since she first hopped off the ship all those months ago. The young martial artist makes her appearance.
>"[indignant grumble]"
>"That was fast!"
>"Rather cocky, ain't she?"
>"Look at the thighs on that one."
>"She a wild one, I'll tell ya' that."
>"Damn foreigners."
>"Oh look, fresh meat for the beasts.."
>"[lecherous whistle]"
Next to enter the scene in a more discrete but just as extravagant fashion is our next hero: Kiara Teagan. She dances into the pub gracefully, her gypsy-style entertainer's outfit decorated of shiny copper coins, and she twirls into the room giving a note from her exquisite viola as she enters. Ms. Teagan radiates a pompous aura of culture and privilege, but also of of lady who knows how to defend herself, as the longsword sheaved at the hem of her dress would show. Indeed, the woman has had plenty of experience looking out for herself after spending so many months alone, having recently fled from a turf war with a rival gang, smuggling thirty two gold pieces away with her in her tambourine. Her charisma and skill is unmatched, for she is indeed a powerful Bard, a jack of all trades, and a talented individual with the uncanny power to draw magic from soul.
>"Ey, that one's a looker now."
>"She's still got all o' her teeth."
>"What a nice tune."
>"Must be one o' those travelin' minstrels. Wait till she finds out this town is flat broke."
>"I know her type, gypsy! They'll steal the shirts of your backs."
>"[lecherous whistle]"
>"Ey, that one's a looker now."
>"She's still got all o' her teeth."
>"What a nice tune."
>"Must be one o' those travelin' minstrels. Wait till she finds out this town is flat broke."
>"I know her type, gypsy! They'll steal the shirts of your backs."
>"[lecherous whistle]"
A small and disheveled figure scurries behind her into the tavern, discreetly as can be. Is it a possum? A dog? An Iguana? It's none other than our third hero: Rhyd the Kobold.
Despite being a lowly Kobold, he is indeed an ideal specimen of his kind, even if being unfortunate enough to be a dragonblood born without the gift of sorcerery. He is quick as a lizard can be, and fierce to boot, his orange scales shining with a coppery speckled hue. He hold his bow in hand, looking either way for anyone who may seek to rob him of his precious treasure.
A little thing about this Kobold that makes him unique is the way he so furtively a small object in his claw. Rhyd is a thief; no, not a rogue, or a burglar, but a thief who has managed to steal the most precious treasure of them all: power. The purple gem he clutches in his right hand gives of a faint glow; it is a a precious dragonshard that he risked life and limb to obtain, unable to resist the beckoning call of the mystical arcane in a moment of opportunity. It is a gem stolen from the hands of the powerful Eldritch Knights who serve the goddess of magick in a far away land, the Shooting Star Rangers, and Rhyd has traveled a great distance to outpace his chasers, reveling in his pilfered magick, relying on his unmatched stealth to escape the his devoted trackers.
Indeed, the gem proved to be a treasure work the risk, for in the months since he first found it Rhyd has grown into a powerful Mystic by studying the arcane symbols that glow within the gem. Already, he's learned to conjure up orisons from the forces of nature, and has even learned to master every one of the Wizard cantrips inscribed in the gem. Drawn to the the prospects of the mine line a moth to light, our tiny hero embarks on what may be a fortuitous quest.
>"Is that a stray dog?"
>"Ew, it's one o' those filthy mange-rats."
>"That reptilian must've got some bollocks, just waltzing in 'ere like that.."
>"Do dem kobolds even 'ave bollocks?"
>*loads crossbow*
Despite being a lowly Kobold, he is indeed an ideal specimen of his kind, even if being unfortunate enough to be a dragonblood born without the gift of sorcerery. He is quick as a lizard can be, and fierce to boot, his orange scales shining with a coppery speckled hue. He hold his bow in hand, looking either way for anyone who may seek to rob him of his precious treasure.
A little thing about this Kobold that makes him unique is the way he so furtively a small object in his claw. Rhyd is a thief; no, not a rogue, or a burglar, but a thief who has managed to steal the most precious treasure of them all: power. The purple gem he clutches in his right hand gives of a faint glow; it is a a precious dragonshard that he risked life and limb to obtain, unable to resist the beckoning call of the mystical arcane in a moment of opportunity. It is a gem stolen from the hands of the powerful Eldritch Knights who serve the goddess of magick in a far away land, the Shooting Star Rangers, and Rhyd has traveled a great distance to outpace his chasers, reveling in his pilfered magick, relying on his unmatched stealth to escape the his devoted trackers.
Indeed, the gem proved to be a treasure work the risk, for in the months since he first found it Rhyd has grown into a powerful Mystic by studying the arcane symbols that glow within the gem. Already, he's learned to conjure up orisons from the forces of nature, and has even learned to master every one of the Wizard cantrips inscribed in the gem. Drawn to the the prospects of the mine line a moth to light, our tiny hero embarks on what may be a fortuitous quest.
>"Is that a stray dog?"
>"Ew, it's one o' those filthy mange-rats."
>"That reptilian must've got some bollocks, just waltzing in 'ere like that.."
>"Do dem kobolds even 'ave bollocks?"
>*loads crossbow*
And last, but not least, walks in our fourth hero: Lucy Malkavian.
Well-endowed in both breast and soul, the gloomy, pale, raven-haired girl arrives in the tavern almost ominously, her haunting presence hanging in the air around her. The blood of ancient creatures flows through her veins, and her family's crest shine boldly on her being. The tiny iron arcane signet seems to shine boldly, as if brimming with arcane power; it seems to stand out on the young lady, contrasted by the dirty rags she wears, that may have once been a rather expensive Gothic dress at one point. A vengeful and fearsome aura haunts the young lady's being, her arcane might too great to contain in her otherwise nonthreatening body. If you find the courage to stare at the mysterious girl for long enough, you might notice ominous noises emanating from her, or red-purple sparks crackling in the air where she walks.
>"That's a witch, if I've ever seen one."
>"A pretty one though."
>"Look at that rack!"
>"Don't look at 'er, you'll be cursed."
>"You reckon she's the one who poisoned the well?"
>"[yet another lecherous whistle]"
One thing that these four ragtag young lads have in common is the peculiar swagger they carry themselves with. It's the attitude of someone perhaps vaguely aware of their own demigod-like stats; the aura of a hero.
Having traveled from far away lands, some chased-away, some hunted, some escaped, some just wishing to explore, the four characters have no home, or any real place to which they can safely return to. They are all of a peculiar occupation: a line of work some like to callmurder-hobo "adventurer".
And so, their story unfolds.
Well-endowed in both breast and soul, the gloomy, pale, raven-haired girl arrives in the tavern almost ominously, her haunting presence hanging in the air around her. The blood of ancient creatures flows through her veins, and her family's crest shine boldly on her being. The tiny iron arcane signet seems to shine boldly, as if brimming with arcane power; it seems to stand out on the young lady, contrasted by the dirty rags she wears, that may have once been a rather expensive Gothic dress at one point. A vengeful and fearsome aura haunts the young lady's being, her arcane might too great to contain in her otherwise nonthreatening body. If you find the courage to stare at the mysterious girl for long enough, you might notice ominous noises emanating from her, or red-purple sparks crackling in the air where she walks.
>"That's a witch, if I've ever seen one."
>"A pretty one though."
>"Look at that rack!"
>"Don't look at 'er, you'll be cursed."
>"You reckon she's the one who poisoned the well?"
>"[yet another lecherous whistle]"
One thing that these four ragtag young lads have in common is the peculiar swagger they carry themselves with. It's the attitude of someone perhaps vaguely aware of their own demigod-like stats; the aura of a hero.
Having traveled from far away lands, some chased-away, some hunted, some escaped, some just wishing to explore, the four characters have no home, or any real place to which they can safely return to. They are all of a peculiar occupation: a line of work some like to call
And so, their story unfolds.
Players are free to respond now.
The kobold hurries to the bar, and jumps up on a stool. He orders in a thick, hissy reptilian accent.
"One ale please."
"One ale please."
With a spirited gait, Allaway saunters over to the counter, sitting a chair. She waves her hand at the bartender with a smile
"Give meh a good ol' whiskeh, lad."
"Give meh a good ol' whiskeh, lad."
>>118419
The bartender, a old, seasoned man with a gray mustache and an eye patch, seems confused for a moment as he stops washing polishing his glass, before he leans over the counter and sees the smol reptile.
"So- *cough* so would I.." He grumbles back, in such a tone that Rhyd can't tell means he's out or he just doesn't want to serve him, punctuated by a rather nasty snort.
The bartender, a old, seasoned man with a gray mustache and an eye patch, seems confused for a moment as he stops washing polishing his glass, before he leans over the counter and sees the smol reptile.
"So- *cough* so would I.." He grumbles back, in such a tone that Rhyd can't tell means he's out or he just doesn't want to serve him, punctuated by a rather nasty snort.
Kiara exaggerates the sway in her hips as she walks lithely toward the counter. She leans provocatively (but 'innocently') against the counter looking for the keeper. "Hello?"
>>118427
Isla looks a little perturbed by the lack of proper alcoholic beverages fit for a woman of her caliber, catching the glass out of courtesy.
She peers inside the glass, examining the contents through smell and vision.
Isla looks a little perturbed by the lack of proper alcoholic beverages fit for a woman of her caliber, catching the glass out of courtesy.
She peers inside the glass, examining the contents through smell and vision.
>>118430
The bartender stifles a cough and swivels his good eye towards her.
".. What?" he groans
>>118432
This just draws a wistful chuckle from him, and he looks down at another dirty glass.
>>118433
It doesn't smell appetizing.
>>118436
"Ya, plenty o' rooms open, since the last half dozen tenents gone dropped dead. The sheets 'll kill ya though."
The bartender stifles a cough and swivels his good eye towards her.
".. What?" he groans
>>118432
This just draws a wistful chuckle from him, and he looks down at another dirty glass.
>>118433
It doesn't smell appetizing.
>>118436
"Ya, plenty o' rooms open, since the last half dozen tenents gone dropped dead. The sheets 'll kill ya though."
>>118442
Isla recoils slightly over the sight, but decides she's no coward.
She dutifully drinks up the grog in one go without hesitation.
Isla recoils slightly over the sight, but decides she's no coward.
She dutifully drinks up the grog in one go without hesitation.
>>118442
"Oh thank heavens. I can't remember the last time I slept in an actual bed." She seems relieved, and pulls out a pouch. "How much please?"
"Oh thank heavens. I can't remember the last time I slept in an actual bed." She seems relieved, and pulls out a pouch. "How much please?"
[1d20+7 = 17]
>>118451
Before the Innkeeper can answer, she adopts a started and dismayed look. She opens the pouch and pours the contents out onto the counter; except nothing pours out. "Oh no!" she exclaims, putting her hand into the pouch and putting her finger through the bottom of it. "All my money is gone!"
(bluff check for all this btw)
"I wonder if you'll allow me to play you a tune?" she asks sheepishly hopeful.
(this is all a ruse of course, a very practiced one)
>>118451
Before the Innkeeper can answer, she adopts a started and dismayed look. She opens the pouch and pours the contents out onto the counter; except nothing pours out. "Oh no!" she exclaims, putting her hand into the pouch and putting her finger through the bottom of it. "All my money is gone!"
(bluff check for all this btw)
"I wonder if you'll allow me to play you a tune?" she asks sheepishly hopeful.
(this is all a ruse of course, a very practiced one)
>>118451
The bartender looks up at her exasperated that the cazy lady is even considering laying her head in this cursed town.
He seems ready to shout some angry when.
>>118458
His expression immediately softens with the music. A lone tear falls from his remaining eye, which he wipes away immediately.
".. Well, if ye insist, it'd be five silvers a night. No, make it two silvers. Not like there's any business these days..."
Then he leans in
"Tell ya what, lassie, for your own good, ye'd be better off sleepen out in the woods with the beasts than here in Duvik's Pass. The Plague be nestin' 'ere, and there be no sign of it gettin' any better."
>>118459
:3
He swallows it. It's not very good.
The bartender looks up at her exasperated that the cazy lady is even considering laying her head in this cursed town.
He seems ready to shout some angry when.
>>118458
His expression immediately softens with the music. A lone tear falls from his remaining eye, which he wipes away immediately.
".. Well, if ye insist, it'd be five silvers a night. No, make it two silvers. Not like there's any business these days..."
Then he leans in
"Tell ya what, lassie, for your own good, ye'd be better off sleepen out in the woods with the beasts than here in Duvik's Pass. The Plague be nestin' 'ere, and there be no sign of it gettin' any better."
>>118459
:3
He swallows it. It's not very good.
>>118460
He suppresses a gag as he chokes it down, his scale-ridge-that-isn't-an-eyebrow raising at the comments of a plague
He suppresses a gag as he chokes it down, his scale-ridge-that-isn't-an-eyebrow raising at the comments of a plague
>>118462
Improvising.
>>118461
"The water, grain, the soil, the air, the bloody cheese, even our blimey sweat is blighted by that pestilent plague!" The old man cries as he pulls a handkerchief from his dirty shirt and coughs harshly into it
>blood
>>118463
"It'd be no normal plague, lassie.." The old man says.
"I know cursed earth when I smell it, and this town stinks! Gods have mercy!"
[coughing fit]
"Maybe it was the mines. Maybe the boys disturbed somethin' down there.. Or maybe the gods thought to judge us for how gratuitously we spent the riches from the silver mountains. This half the town has a foot in the graveyard, and our last boys still haven't gotten back from their prospecting trip. I worry some beast gottem, or worse..." The man moans
Improvising.
>>118461
"The water, grain, the soil, the air, the bloody cheese, even our blimey sweat is blighted by that pestilent plague!" The old man cries as he pulls a handkerchief from his dirty shirt and coughs harshly into it
>blood
>>118463
"It'd be no normal plague, lassie.." The old man says.
"I know cursed earth when I smell it, and this town stinks! Gods have mercy!"
[coughing fit]
"Maybe it was the mines. Maybe the boys disturbed somethin' down there.. Or maybe the gods thought to judge us for how gratuitously we spent the riches from the silver mountains. This half the town has a foot in the graveyard, and our last boys still haven't gotten back from their prospecting trip. I worry some beast gottem, or worse..." The man moans
>>118465
Rhyd's eyebrow is really raising now at the mention of mines and prospectors.
"Where were they last seen?"
Rhyd's eyebrow is really raising now at the mention of mines and prospectors.
"Where were they last seen?"
[1d20 = 13]
>>118465
Kiara's face grows somber as the men relate their replies. Without a word, she conjures a viola, and draws her bow across it in song.
Performance check. +4 music, +4 dance, +4 tumbling, and +4 dex/cha (remove any modifiers at will)
>>118465
Kiara's face grows somber as the men relate their replies. Without a word, she conjures a viola, and draws her bow across it in song.
Performance check. +4 music, +4 dance, +4 tumbling, and +4 dex/cha (remove any modifiers at will)
>>118466
"Last time I saw my son he was headin' up to the mines with the last of the young men who weren't too sick to move. 'Miner's pride', he called it.. That was wore than two weeks ago, and nobody's heard of 'em since.." she old man says with a sniffle
"Last time I saw my son he was headin' up to the mines with the last of the young men who weren't too sick to move. 'Miner's pride', he called it.. That was wore than two weeks ago, and nobody's heard of 'em since.." she old man says with a sniffle
>>118468
"The mines.... If you would be willing, would you point me on this path later? I would reward you for the trouble."
He rakes his hand inside his robe, and the familiar clink of coins can be heard.
"The mines.... If you would be willing, would you point me on this path later? I would reward you for the trouble."
He rakes his hand inside his robe, and the familiar clink of coins can be heard.
>>118467
Routine performance.
A few of the commoners, mostly old men and women, seem decently impressed, more encouraged by the strange woman's attempts to lift their spirits.
Six of the old men toss silver coins towards her, accompanied by winks that might make her uncomfortable, were she not used to it.
>>118469
"ya, dey all work together. The mine's up in the mountains."
>>118470
The man points in the general direction of the nearest mountain.
"That way. Follow the trail."
Routine performance.
A few of the commoners, mostly old men and women, seem decently impressed, more encouraged by the strange woman's attempts to lift their spirits.
Six of the old men toss silver coins towards her, accompanied by winks that might make her uncomfortable, were she not used to it.
>>118469
"ya, dey all work together. The mine's up in the mountains."
>>118470
The man points in the general direction of the nearest mountain.
"That way. Follow the trail."
>>118453
She drinks the grog with no fear, shaking out of her trance.
(I gotta stop me daydream.)
>>118471
>>118470
>>118469
Isla listens intently at the conversation of mines, the plague and other tidbits, shuffling her seat closer.
"Sound like ye lot want tae go to the mines, eh?" she whispers to the other two inquisitve folk next to her.
She drinks the grog with no fear, shaking out of her trance.
(I gotta stop me daydream.)
>>118471
>>118470
>>118469
Isla listens intently at the conversation of mines, the plague and other tidbits, shuffling her seat closer.
"Sound like ye lot want tae go to the mines, eh?" she whispers to the other two inquisitve folk next to her.
>>118471
She smiles faintly and picks up the coin. She goes to each of the men and gives them their coin back. "Thank you all, but its not necessary. I'm sorry for your troubles, but I'll do what I can to lift this,... curse(?). When I get back, then I'll give you a real performance." She half smiles, half frowns, bows, and leaves the tavern.
She smiles faintly and picks up the coin. She goes to each of the men and gives them their coin back. "Thank you all, but its not necessary. I'm sorry for your troubles, but I'll do what I can to lift this,... curse(?). When I get back, then I'll give you a real performance." She half smiles, half frowns, bows, and leaves the tavern.
>>118471
He nods
"Thank you sir"
Rhyd gets up and runs out the door, a single gold coin left on the bar where he sat.
He nods
"Thank you sir"
Rhyd gets up and runs out the door, a single gold coin left on the bar where he sat.
>>118473
The retired miner stifles another cough
"If I were young, I would'a hiked up dere to investigate it meself, plague or no plague.. My knees aren't what dey used to be though.." he says grimly
This comment is followed by a rather harsh coughing fit, the tissue almost completely red now.
>>118474
"Be careful now, lassie. Dis town may be cursed to de abyss, but there be savages in those mountains. I reckon they may've had a run-in up our boys." The seasoned miner warns, his single milky eye shooting brief but murderous glance at the cloaked creature below him.
>>118475
[grunts and nods]
>>118476
[grumbles and nods]
The retired miner stifles another cough
"If I were young, I would'a hiked up dere to investigate it meself, plague or no plague.. My knees aren't what dey used to be though.." he says grimly
This comment is followed by a rather harsh coughing fit, the tissue almost completely red now.
>>118474
"Be careful now, lassie. Dis town may be cursed to de abyss, but there be savages in those mountains. I reckon they may've had a run-in up our boys." The seasoned miner warns, his single milky eye shooting brief but murderous glance at the cloaked creature below him.
>>118475
[grunts and nods]
>>118476
[grumbles and nods]
>>118475
>>118476
Isla at first looked dumbfounded at the small folk running off somewhere, turning to the other, more receptive woman.
"Aye, me too."
>>118477
She looks at the bartender with pity, deciding to set 3 gold coins on the table.
"Here, lad. Thank ye for the drink."
>>118475
He turns back at the female stranger with similar goals.
"Name's Isla, lassie. You came for the stories too, aye?"
>>118476
Isla at first looked dumbfounded at the small folk running off somewhere, turning to the other, more receptive woman.
"Aye, me too."
>>118477
She looks at the bartender with pity, deciding to set 3 gold coins on the table.
"Here, lad. Thank ye for the drink."
>>118475
He turns back at the female stranger with similar goals.
"Name's Isla, lassie. You came for the stories too, aye?"
Assuming that Kiara knows which way to the mines, she sets off there keeping her eyes peeled and her ears open for signs of trouble.
The kobold steps outside and gains his bearing before setting of towards the mines...
As quickly as a small ass kobold with a short stride can.
As quickly as a small ass kobold with a short stride can.
>>118478
Lucy Extends her hand to shake
"The Name is Lucy. I Did i heard there was a problem in town. i stopped by to see what was going on."
Lucy Extends her hand to shake
"The Name is Lucy. I Did i heard there was a problem in town. i stopped by to see what was going on."
Alright, so the our ragtag band of heroes needed surprisingly little motivation to delve headfirst into certain doom adventure. They may have different reasons to explore the mines, but nevertheless, they share a common goal as they steadily make their way up into the mountains.
>>118481
Roll Survival
>>118481
Roll Survival
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