The village of Lontr, in the kingdom of Ambilion, is suffering from a depression; The farms in the region near the village have been prevented from shipping their crops along either of the two roads leading out of the town. Bandits with trained animals at their beck and call have been ransacking supply caravans leading out of the region for weeks, and the town militia worry that an attack is to be mustered on the town itself soon. The town's leading council issues a call for a band of heroes to assist them, a call that is answered by four worthy souls...
The heroes in question all encounter each-other in the Black Badger Inn and Tavern, ordering a pint of ale, and passing it around.
((OK, I'll leave introductions and character interaction up to you. Sorry for the rushed intro to the adventure, but, there ya go.))
Camrildel, about 6'3" with brown hair and eyes, wearing a suit of leather armor is sitting at the bar. At his waist are his club and handaxe. Next to him, propped against the bar, is his spear.
A dark haired elven woman sits at a nearby table. She wears studded leather armor and has a shortsword on her hip. A small wooden shield and a shortbow rest against the pack sitting on the floor next to her chair. Perhaps a bit oddly for a tavern, she's passed on the ale.
Probably not too much, seeing as Encion did lkewise, simply ordering water. He gives her a nod.
((What's this guy's name now? You've given two.))
She looks up and gives a small smile. "Hello."
Another man sits over in the corner with a rather large book. He's of average height, average build, average brown hair colour. He'd be very normal, in fact, if it wasn't for the long black cloak and crossbow he was wearing.
He even has a perfectly average ale sitting in front of him.
He smiles back.
(I switched to his last name. Shorter. Full name is Camrildel Encion.)
Sitting at the bar sits a dwarf with amber colored hair. The dwarf is wearing a chain shirt and on his back is a round container that has a large bulge at the bottom. Sticking out the top is what looks to be the handle of a weapon. Hanging on pair of of sticks is a bag and a sling. What can be assumed as his pack and shield are leaning against the bar at his feet. The dwarf in particular is nursing a small ale, not aiming to get drunk but just as something to sip and pass the time with.
He is currently leaning his back against the bar and looking out across the other patrons with amber eyes, working slowly and with deliberate detail on each person before going to the next.
((No need to give me detailed info about each guy, Blackout.))
Suddenly, everyone in the tavern hears screaming outside. An ignited arrow flies through the window and sets a table on fire. The tavern's patrons flee into the streets; Apparently, the militia's hunch was correct.
As our heroes flee into the streets of the town to avoid the oncoming inferno, they see a large number of motley bandits attacking people, and ransacking households.
Three bandits spot the band of adventurers, realizing that they are armed, and therefore a threat.
((Bandit 1 rolls a 12 for initiative
Bandit 2 rolls a 13
Bandit 3 rolls a 9))
((Picking things up right off the bat. >=) ))
The very average man, who has brought his book along to rescue it from the fire, jumps slightly at the sight of bandits. He'd expected it, of course, what with the flaming arrows and all, but it was still a bit of a shock.
That shock though, was apparently the sort that ends with action. The very average man is about to display some not so average abilities. He points at the nearest bandit and says something incomprehensible, a small crackling projectile bursting from the fingertip as he does so.
And how about waiting for everyone to post in the round before typing up effects? I won initiative and yet the bandits are already effected by spells casted after I've acted. This is what rounds and intitiatives are for, yeah?
Garmor rushes out of the tavern, bringing his pack and shield, as they would burn quite easily. Dropping his stuff on the ground as he rushes out, he stops to catch his breath and notices the bandits. Grimacing, he says, "Have you no respect for architecture!" Before he loads his sling, a little clumsily too, and slings the stone at one of the bandits before stepping a bit closer.