Gaming Session Beta Test Log

Craven Delights

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With the Winter Solstice comes a sense of tranquility to the village of Honce. A blessed harvest means none will go hungry this winter unlike seasons past and to celebrate the village Elders have announced a Solstice festival, inviting locals and neighbors to come and enjoy a night of entertainment and games of skill. The market at the center of town has been replaced with games of chance.

Bonfires dot the area to keep away the evening chill, wood having been collected during the day to provide adequate material to last the night. Brew Master Cindarian over sees much of the food and drink being served as proprietor of the Drunken Bear.
The village while small is surrounded by a fifteen foot stone wall with watch towers reinforcing the four corners, archers are ever watchful for raiders looking for a moment of weakness in Honce's defenses. With the celebration, the guard along the walls has been tripled, the normal archers reinforced by volunteer hunters and a few local rangers have agreed to lend their bows should the town be in need.

As the festival comes completely underway an expected shipment from neighboring Hillden comes rolling through the gates before they are shut. The driver follows a memorized route to rest his cart just outside the festival square. Exhaling the small human ties off the cart and sees to having his horses tended to, knowing the cargo can wait until the morning. Greeting Cindarian the merchant heads off to the Drunken Bear.

(What are your characters doing? Keep to one post please.)

Jak Siv: People. Together. Likely drunk. This was the jackpot Viska...People would be less careful and more risky, much more clumsy and lazy so that their pouches of silver and gold would be all the riper for plucking! Feline fangs glimmered in the limelight of the festivites, the hood cloaking the rest of the fur-lined body underneath whilst amber eyes reflected the light that flickered around himself. What was the juiciest target here....

Kuori: "Oi! You in d' 'ood!" a voice calls from Viska's left. "Le'me see your face..."

Jak Siv: Blink. Uh...Act cool, maybe it was some drunkard! Placing his smoothest smile, he turned aside to his left and faced the person, though kept the hood upon their head, "Yes?"

Kuori: Standing not more than fifteen feet away is one of the volunteer militia. Dressed in piece-mail armor, he holds a halberd aloft in one hand while moving closer. "You local 'r jus fisiting?"

Jak Siv: His head lowered, he pressed his palms together and visibly smiled to the militia, as though to appear like some lost traveller or monk of sorts, "Visiting," the accent was clear that the common tongue was perhaps his second language, or that was the act, "I hear good things of Winter Solstice. I come visit. Have fun. Is that not why we here?"

Kuori: "Aigh't, pull ya 'ood down. Lots'a 'onest folk 'round enjoyin 'emselves. Only folk'd be goin about wit a 'ood on'r thems up to no good. Ya hear?" He says calmly, but brings that large halberd forward to get his point across.
Kuori: /roll 1d20 + 8 ( Result: 13, Total: 13 )
Kuori: Intimidation roll.

Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 -1 ( Result: 12, -1 Total: 11 )
Jak Siv: "Ah...W-Well...Y'see...That's lovely h-halberd there..." Quit stuttering, he won't stab you for nothing! "But hood removed y-yes!" The hood was pulled back, to reveal the sudden rise of fur-coated ears that twitched within the cool air, and the young, brwn fuzzy face of Viska, with amber eyes glancing around anxiously.

Kuori: The militiaman smiles to that. "Thank you, enjoy the festivities. If ya need a room, best get one at the Drunken Bear a'fore they fill up. Else you'll be sleepin in a 'aylof'." Without another word the man turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd, though the top of that halberd remains in full sight.

Jak Siv: Odd accent...But he's easy to spot, and likely drunk in the next hour, but he was right about the need for sleeping, and with Winter and drunkards around...He was a thief yes, but thugs were still a worry, and he likely wasn't the only one viewing the potential for pocket-pinching around! Fingers toyed with the hair frustratingly as he moved forward for the Drunken Bear, curious to see what the place was like...And if he could steal!

Kuori: As you enter the Drunken Bear the portly steward Reagan greets you with a friendly wave as he wipes down the bar. "Welcome!" he cries with a friendly laugh. Inside the Bear you see a few patrons sitting at tables quietly chatting. The merchant who just came into town sits by himself smoking from a pipe and reads a few loose leaf parchments. The sound of workers preparing food comes from a swinging door just behind the bar. A service window at the end lets patrons see into the kitchen.

Jak Siv: It smelt terribly, it looked like any other inn and he'd doubt the beds were be free of lice...It felt like home, and significantly better with the food on hand! "Hullo!" Across to the barkeep, and whilst he stepped lightly between the tables to the bar, his eyes flick between the various patrons, and last a little longer upon the lonely merchant! "I...Hear of rooms here yes?"
Jak Siv: To the barkeep, Reagan.

Kuori: "Just sold my last one, friend." Reagan admits with an apologetic shrugging of his shoulders. "It's not much, but there's a cot open down in the cellar if you still want a bed."

Jak Siv: Any bed was better than no bed in winter in his books, and he needn't the hassle or attention if to argue against it, but he'd nod and smile all the same, "Please. How much is cot for night?"

Kuori: "Be two copper, as it's just a cot and all." Reagan replies while handing a foaming ale to a customer.

Jak Siv: Fumbling through the numerous pockets on his outfit, he'd soon fish out the two coppers, "There. And for foaming ale?"

Kuori: "Those are free tonight. Been compensated by the Cindarian to cover my entire stock." He offers with a wink.

Jak Siv: "Who is this Cindarian?" Compensating a whole inn, during a festival? The fool must be stacked in riches, this could set you up for life here Viska, the high life! "And I will take one ale please!"

Kuori: "Cindarian is the Brewmaster hosting the festival. We get all sorts of vendors come in from surrounding areas who pay a lot rent for their stall space to 'im. What they pay, they more than make back in goods. Honestly this is the best time a year to come to Honce." With a grin, Reagan takes up a mug and moves to one of the tapped barrels, pulling on the lever.

Jak Siv: The host? Maybe a little out of your target for tonight, and if he's paying all these folks now, his stash won't be so impressive. Baby steps Viska, move on the merchant tonight! "I can see yes, busy and exciting, plenty of fun to be had no?" A brief glance across to the merchant once more.
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +8 ( Result: 9, 8 Total: 17 )

Kuori: The merchant is intently reading a bit of paper, gnawing on the stem of his pipe in irritation.

Kuori: "There's always something to do. Got bards out there playing and telling stories of heroism, woe, and naturally debauchery for the eve. Then o'course there's the games later tonight. Them's what folks come to see. Tests of skill, daring, and drunken fools/" The last is followed by a great guffaw that makes Reagan's belly shake.
Jak Siv: And of betting....Wait, you don't want to lose it all now Viska! Grinning, he offered a small chuckle in response to the belly-shaker, before raising his hand, "Fetch me ale soon please, I need to attend to...something yes." A polite nod and the feline figure would saunter calmly to where the merchant sat, a brow raised in response to the paper, then to his irritated action, "Something on your mind sir?" Hands settled on his hips, and a sweet smile greeted the sir.

Kuori: "Piss off," without even looking up.

Jak Siv: Le gasp! A hand against his chest and he had to turn his head aside to mask the smirk that was beginning to rise, "I see you seem angry and alone...I thought company would help you yes? Tis time for festives sir!" The accent ploy was continued, the common fluency suppressed for now, "I get you drink perhaps?"
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +3 ( Result: 20, 3 Total: 23 )

Kuori: The merchant snaps his eyes up at Viska, about to rip into him and pauses a moment. Eyeing the feline stranger. "One drink, you want to pluck someone's heart strings go hit up on'a them Love-glove ladies. I ain't interested in talkin to ya."

Jak Siv: "Good!" Despite the crude response, he'd happily wave to the barkeep and gesture for a second ale before moving to occupy the other seat opposite the man without question, tilting his head, "Oh I like company, even if no talking, time to be together during festives no? I am no local so I do not know the traditions here!" Innocent, naive and cheerful, that was the current act and hopefully it works!

Kuori: "Be nice, Horus." Reagan chides the merchant, bringing over the two ales. One of which Viska ordered a while ago. "Sorry for the wait lad." Setting them both down at the table. "Don't mind him," The Keep slugs Horus in the shoulder. "He's always rough as tree bark."

Jak Siv: Horus. He had a name! "Tis fine, I be grateful!" Nodding to the barkeep with a thankful smile, "I will not, being rough is not too bad!" That could be considered slightly...dirty, if someone had their mind in the gutter.

Kuori: The merchant grumbles and pushes down into his seat, paper in one hand, ale in the other. "Let me know if you need anything further gents." Reagan leans down to whisper something to Horus before walking away.

Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +12 ( Result: 15, 12 Total: 27 )
Jak Siv: (SoH)
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +11 ( Result: 20, 11 Total: 31 )
Jak Siv: (Bluff)
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +12 ( Result: 5, 12 Total: 17 )
Jak Siv: (Acrobatics)
Jak Siv: A sharp yelp sounded from the felineand he suddenly bolted upwards, his knee driving into his side of the table so that to lift it enough to force the ale upon the merchant opposite him, whilst trying to avoid the ale himself.

Kuori: "What the devil!?" The merchant exclaims as the table tips, his ale sloshing around the the rim of the mug in his hand. His parchments tumbling to the floor.

Jak Siv: "Sir! I am sorry! I thought I saw a spider and it startled me!" Rushing round to his aid, he'd try to help the merchant in the ensuing confusion from head to toe, "I need to see if Horus is fine, I be sorry again!" And he'd try to swipe the parchments...They could be worthwhile!
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +12 ( Result: 11, 12 Total: 23 )

Kuori: "Clumsy oaf!" Horus gripes, bending to swipe up his papers.
Kuori: (roll Reflex)
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +8 ( Result: 12, 8 Total: 20 )
Kuori: /roll 1d20 +2 ( Result: 16, 2 Total: 18 )

Kuori: "I can pick up my own papers, thank you!" He snatches up his papers in a crumpled mess and storms off, barely avoiding knocking the Viska over. He doesn't notice one of his slips falling like a forgotten leaf from his clenched fist. "I'll be eating in my room, Reagan!"

Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +8 ( Result: 7, 8 Total: 15 )
Kuori: (if it's a room full of people. Tell what you're rolling for, then roll it after talking to me.))
Kuori: You notice the fallen scrap of paper.

Jak Siv: "I be sorry again!" Pouting once the man's back is turned towards him, however his eyes catch sight of th lonesome page, and he steps forward to see if he could pick it up without drawing too much attention.
Jak Siv: /roll 1d20 +12 ( Result: 20, 12 Total: 32 )

Kuori: SoH successful No one notices you take the slip of paper.

Jak Siv: Now to peek at what is wrritten on these notes after picking them up...

Kuori: The note reads: Your last shipment was late, as was the payment. Interest just went up on what's owed. 78. 25. 56. 17.
Kuori: Nothing else is written.

Jak Siv: 78. 25. 56. 17. A code? Number on homes? A number of coins perhaps? And what was with the shipment talk? There was something larger here...Should he tell the militia? No, they'll be drunk and also ask where he 'acquired' this from. Maybe he should follow the man back up to his room...There could be a distraction he could pull off!

Kuori: A runner bursts in through the door. "Hey everyone! Cindarian is starting the games!" A cheer goes up from the patrons as they start to rise, a few calling out bets to one another.
Jak Siv: Bets....Money. More money. Maybe the merchant can wait, a little betting won't hurt! He'll stuff the note in his pocket, then move out to leave the Inn for now.
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