PlanetADnD.com

All gaming will take place here, and everyone, for the most part, should stay in character. If you need to hash out things between yourselves, have questions or ideas about the game, or the characters, that is what the Brainstorming thread is for.

The game begins......

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*Her amber eyes follow it, as she silently stalks her prey. Hiding in the dark of the dungeon, she is accustomed to the dark, and nothing can hide as well as it thinks it can from her. She knows all, and sees all; the knowledge stored safely for future hunts of the like kind.*

*She pretends to be alone, for it makes her look the easier prey herself, but she is never alone. Her kind are all around, hiding, waiting....waiting to come out and pounce upon the prey she has chosen.*

*Silently crouching in the corner, she watches her target. waiting for the perfect time to pounce. Time slips by ever so slowly, patience is her friend. She can silently hide where she is, for as long as it takes. Enjoying her hunt, she quietly licks her lips in anticipation.*

*Her ears suddenly prick up in anticipation. “Ahhh, more come to join me in my darkest of playgrounds. No more time to waste on dinner, for I must attend to my new guests.” *She leaps out of the darkness onto her prey, bringing swift death to it. Bones crack, skin tears, ligaments snap with each strike of her sharp teeth and claws. So quick was the attack, that the prey did not even have the time to utter a final moan, nor a last gasp of breath.*

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*You have been traveling a long way, whether from a previous quest or a village rest, and now find yourself on a wide, rutted dirt road. The trees on either side are many, but old and gnarled as if the backs of many an old man. A wind blows down the corridor made by road and trees; a cold, stinging wind that goes through whatever manner of clothing or armor worn. Suddenly the road opens up to a vast clearing that once was a beautifully maintained lawn, but is now overgrown with weeds as tall as an average man. Straight ahead looms a massive structure.*

*The castle was abandoned two centuries ago, all manner of creature being allowed to take over its interior. As you walk through the entryway, you hear the scrabble of claws run across the stone floors. Scraps of tapestries hang still upon the walls. From the left corridor, a dank breeze filters up towards your nostrils, giving full indication that the dungeon awaits in that direction.*

*You come to an 8' set of heavy oak double doors, large brass rings in the center of each.*

*You now await the rest of your party.*


Edit: inserted the word "corridor", since it was misunderstood that the party must go that way to get to the doors.


Map:

The gnarled dwarf stands firm in front of the doors, the 2-handed axe held firmly in his grip.
The spikes adorning his helm and black armor make him look outlandish in the forest.

He grins, his nose ring glitters in the sun.

His road from the elves had been a long one, home seemed such a long way away.

"Aye, its been a long road..." he mutters to no-one in particular...

The young longbow man Kleos dismounts from his trusty horse, calming her by removing her saddle and brushing her down.
He ponders going in alone. He has been adventuring alone and has been just following this party for the company. He remembers the fire he has shared with these fellow adventurers and remembers the fire he shared with his brother. He sighs and decides to wait patiently for the others while taking care of his horse. He keeps his sword and bow near though, weary of the wild forest. He politely says hi and agrees to the dwarf during his chores and continues waiting for the others.

"So Boy, how old are ye anyway...?" Grinning again, he scanned the area, is there anyone else in this strange place?

I am have lived 19 winters, fellow dwarf. By the way I did not catch your name? I am Kleos Archer, Bowman of Travel, for I have not seen my home for 2 winters. Yes, indeed there seems to be none of others around. Their names escape me just as yours. Thou be ready for this dungeon. The door is daunting on its own.

"Aye I thought as much... I be Drake of the Clan McDowell..." He stoked his long red beard.
"No door frightens me."

ooc i've really got this flint thing goin' on haven't i...? Acidental? Maybe... /ooc

The discordant grating wheeze of a horribly played harmonica interrupts the conversation, startling the young man's horse and sounding to all the world as if someone were torturing a badger...with a cat. Somewhere in the world is the world's best harmonica player. Which means that elsewhere there must the world's worst. This player is in the running for the position.
The harmonica player strides in casually, the music impossibly out of beat with his long strides.

He's tall and blonde, and wearing an enormous wine-colored hat on his head, over an outfit that looks like a fight broke out between a tailor's shop and armorer's during a rummage sale. Scraps of chainmail fight for space with bits of brigandine and scales of leather in nine different colors. But there's no mistaking the shining hilts of weapons at his belt, tucked though they are between pouches and purses and ladies' favors.

He looks at the others staring at him and takes the harmonica away from his mouth. "Never had a lesson," he says, beaming with pride at what he perceives to be his great skill before returning to his playing, albeit a bit more softly now.

Woah, calm down Hucael. You know Jester, sorry for forgetting your name, your abilities with the harmonica might be valuable in the dungeon. The monster will try to eat you and completely ignore the arrows zooming so close to his head. Just kidding friend Elf. By the way, have you seen the other of the party, I would hate to deny the fun to anyone.

Martin lets a chord slowly stretch out and die (probably a mercy killing, come to think of it) before saying, to no-one in particular: " 'Just kidding,' he says. 'Just kidding.' " Then he turns toward Kleos and says: "Best leave that to the professionals, boy. You're not qualified."

"You, boy, can call me 'Patsy'."

"And you," he turns to the dwarf, "you look like a hedgehog. I think I shall call you 'Norman'."

Beillion comes to the castle and makes his way to the broken grass. Working his short self along the path, he comes to the castle and finds the others talking. Not trying to hide his approach, he calls out in Common. "Greetings travelers, I see the old castle has all of us as guests." He interrupts the chat and briefly ponders the nature of a short elf speaking in grass over his head. Thinking twice, he calls out. "I don't suppose you guys are hostile. It is a bit late for violence." He hopes the voices are friendly.

Taking the time to inspect the ground, he bends down to look at how much water the place gets. If it is a swamp, he needs to know before he gets in too deep. In fact, the idea of walking to the tall grass no longer appeals to him. It's too late to go back, however.

(( OOC: Physical description coming when he comes into view ))

"The name be Drake not Norman you Pansy... And stop that infernal noise, you'll tell the world we are here" shaking his head he frowned

"Elves and a human. Now all we need is one of the little un's"

Nodding slowly to the other members he returns to woking on the door.

The short elf that pokes his head through the brush has blonde hair and light blue eyes. Carrying a hammer, the elf is wearing a set of hide armor that indicates he is a combat cleric of some sort. "The name is Beillion, and I love to travel." He steps clear of he grass and yawns.

[OOC] Thanks for the picture, LWW. Not what I was picturing at all. I was imagining a foyer/entry hall with a corridor coming off it to one side, and thought we were assembling in said foyer. This clears it up. That being said, I'd as soon have us get to know each other before venturing into the dark.[/OOC]

"Happy now, Norman? An elf has arrived. You're that much closer to having a full set. And there might yet be a gnome of halfling about that we've not yet seen, for they are small and easy to conceal."

Martin turns to the newcomer: "Greetings, wanderer, and well met. I thought this party could use some refinement. You may call me Clive.
"The human boy is Kleos, who has spent two winters being too proud to ask for directions.
"And Norman, there, is a hedgehog who claims to be a duck...I wouldn't ask him too many questions - he seems a bit frustrated by his predicament."

Beillion greets Clive. "It is a hearty welcome, and I celebrate such a day! The choice between a duck and hedgehog is a profound one." He walks over to the door and waves to the others. "I take this place is new to all of us?" He pokes his head into the tunnel and checks out the hallway.

(( OOC : moving ahead with group if they move ))

"It is an interesting place, really. The lawn needs some work, but the hedgehog option could provide a great tool for burrowing some tunnels if we need it." Beillion remarks casually and declares. "I'm limited to the divine powers, myself."