Terrorvale Test Run

((So here is a test-run of Pathfinder online, let's see how it works out due to conflicting schedules. Post your characters up on the profile section when so it will be easier for me to DM. Jump in when you can annnnnnd go.)

The town of Terrorvale has stood upon Minecraftia's greatest southern tributary for centuries, a safeguard from the predations of jungle savages and a healthy port city to other nations across the world. It's walls, despite their beaten appearance have withstood the trials of time as well as the local natives since it's founding, when eager explorers decided to delve into the jungle's depths in search of gold. The people have as much taken to the jungle as the jungle has to them, as every citizen and the city itself has an air of eager adventure about them. This is the frontier, and you arrive in Terrorvale just in time for their summer solstice festival. If one listens carefully, they can hear anxious mutterings from the elders of the population. Normally the height of goblin raids, they little savages have been curiously quiet.

The center of the town is a flood of humanity as both natives of Terrorvale and various merchants and travelers from around the world have made their rest here today, before venturing into the jungle on their personal expeditions. Colorful tents stand in the bazaar, and people move from one to another, eyeing wares, or purchasing food. The smell of cooked goods and roaring fires hangs heavily in the air as saurian creatures are turned on overly large spits in clearings between tents and displays. A troupe of halfling jesters perform an improptu play, in a corner of the bazaar, taking grateful shade from the unforgiving sun in the process.

((Take this opportunity to explore the town, the bazaar. There are merchants within the town. A blacksmith, an alchemical merchant, and more.))

((KB= Kharde Bhorde))

KB wanders about the city lost, looking for a church or temple to fulfill his daily ritual of praying. With a stern look on his face, he is seen scoffing at the more intoxicated of locals, often shaking his head or sighing loudly.

As Saverio enters the town, a feeling of relief over takes him, as he is glad to take a break from his constant research. The troupe of haflings immediately catch his attention and he sits down to enjoy the play.

The Dwarven cleric Kharde Borde would find that going through the crowded streets was relatively easy as festival-goers did their best to make way for a man of the cloth. It wouldn't be long until he'd reached a small chapel at the edge of a bazaar, opposing one of the largest taverns in Terrorvale. Whereas other towns would have chapels each built and maintained for their own deity, in a frontier bastion such as this, they were all housed within the same chapels and priests of different gods mingled in the shared prayer-house. An elderly man, the trials of time written on his face as well as his priest's robes gives Kharde Borde a quick look over before gesturing deeper into the cathedral to a set of shrines each contained in an alcove. The gesture is obvious, "Take your pick."

Saverio was able to catch the end of the Halfling's play, a comedy displaying a battle of the sexes. The halflings took a bow, as well as every coin offered by the onlookers. A halfling stopped and looked up at Saverio expectantly, empty hat in upended, containing coins from the others in the crowd. "Spare a coin, friend? We're looking for a ship back home and every coin helps!" The halfling bounces back and forth, having too much energy to seemingly contain.

Rogash leapt from the horse drawn cart, grateful to feel ground beneath his feet. Ahead of him loomed the beaten and familiar gates of Terrorvale. Ignoring the bustle of the other members of the trade caravan, he shoulder his backpack and headed for the gates, eager to find a room. The guards visibly relaxed as he neared and they managed to recognize his face, the stigma of being a Half-Orc partially pushed aside out of familiarity. Giving them a nod, he continued through the gate pausing only long enough to see the sun beginning to dip towards the horizon, the constant buzz of the festival gracing his sense of hearing almost immediately. It wasn't home, but it was better then nothing.

And Kharde Bhorde doth praised his lord for a full turn.

Amused my the hafling's enthusiasm, Saverio drop 3 gold coins into his hat. As he reenacted the play in his head, he realized he hadn't had anything to eat today. So he heads off to the nearest tavern.

The festivities only heightened as the day dragged on into night. In truth the city's street barely darkened at all, torches and lanterns burning brightly in the night air. Torch throwing dancers capered through the streets, being warily watched by guards, haggard with the busiest day of the year not just for business, but for peacekeeping as well.

The nearest tavern would be right across the pavilion from the small chapel where Kharde Borde had set about to pray, a three-story building with a wide outside terrace facing towards the festival, called Chequers. Torches and braziers kept it glowing at this time of the year and it was filled to the brim with the drunk and the happy. The dwarven innkeeper, Borim rushed alongside the various waitress', hands filled with flagons of mead. His face was red between a pair of mutton chops and beneath a balding head. He eyed the latest newcomer to his tavern, the alchemist Saverio and said through a hoarse voice, "Welcome to Chequers! Whoever is tending the bar can assist you with a room if you need!"

Kharde Borde would find that due to the festivities, the chapel was closing very shortly as the same, demure old man placed a hand upon his shoulder. "Brother, I hate to interrupt your prayers, but the festival is taking place and we of the priesthood should be present."

Rogash slumped into a corner seat of one of the more popular inns in Terrorvale, Chequers. The water here was always cold, due to some magical contraption the greedy dwarf who ran the place had found in his travels. It was the main reason he had bothered to come here, despite the strange looks he recieved from those around him. The tourists and travelers, most of the towns-folk recognized him by now and didn't stare out of familiarity. But the rest of them.. That was a different story.

At this time, from the edge of the jungle, small figures would begin to emerge. The sentries on the wall however, infected by the celebratory mood, had deemed it fit to grab a few flagons of mead from a nearby store-house, and they failed to notice what was taking place.

((The figures are out of sight from anyone in town, so for the itme being ignore that last part as far as in-character. TRying to make this flow a bit like a story, as is a nasty preference of mine.))

KB having finished his daily ritual returns to the tavern where his gear and supplies are located. As he walks into the tavern, he tries to avoid the people only wishing to return to his room and prepare to continue his pilgrimage across the lands.

Saverio heads over to the bar to inquire about renting a room during his visit to Terrorvale.

Borim notices Kharde Borde heading for the stairs leading to the upper floor rooms and gives a holler, pride and greed shining equal measure in his eyes; for to have a cleric in his inn was a rare event. "I say there Brother, stay awhile! We can afford a free meal for one of faith!" Heads turned to acknowledge the cleric, some even bowed in his general direction.

For Saverio, the woman at the bar was an oddity. Amongst the chaos of camaraderie and celebration, she was akin to the eye of a storm, utterly peaceful and sat upon a stool with a book in one hand, and a pen writing down names in a ledger with the other. Without even looking up from the book she said, "It's twenty gold for the night customer, if you want food or drink, snag one of the serving girls."

Rogash gave the dwarven priest a nod before returning to his careful observation of the room. It's not that he mistrusted any of the strangers, he simply had no wish to mingle. Humans, dwarves, halflings, even a few of the disturbingly thin elves moved amongst the crowd. Not a hint of green anywhere, he would just be an oddity.

Outside of the walls, the dark figures huddled around it's base. One of them, clearly a leader began to hiss an incomprehensible language through a fang-filled smile. With the most flippant of motions, he gestured his stave in the general direction of the tower, knocking a few of his accomplices over the head with it in his haste.

KB having failed at avoiding conversation, sighed but smiled as he faced the crowd to acknowledge their respect and returned in kind with a curt wave of his hand as thanks. Catching a glimpse of green, he caught the nod given by a lone orc in the corner and responded with a humble nod as well. Not wishing to disrespect another dwarf, KB graciously accepted a small meal from Borim and, while looking for a place to sit found that the only open seat was near the half-orc from earlier, headed in his direction.

((intentions of KB are to sit near Rogash to avoid conversing with the crowd as well as offering him a portion of his food and mead for permission.))

Irritated with the woman at the bar's clear lack of hospitality. Saverio promptly pays for a room and swiftly makes his way to the room to avoid any more tedious conversation.

The figure at the base of the wall's language began to quicken, and sparks began to fly from his boy, throwing his cloak around as if caught in a horrid wind. His grumbling subordinates began to whimper and stumble away from him uncertainly as his voice began to shriek. The guards atop the walls finally took notice as the inerlopers were lit by the eldritch sorcery their leader was very much screaming into being, the tip of his stave alight with coruscating energy. "Fus."

Saverio's room turned out to be a small and spartan room, a small drawer with a candle lit, a bare wooden table, and a simple bed that looked more suited for a dwarf then a human. The window was heavily curtained, to keep the incandescent nature of the activities away from a customer's eyes, and even muffle the sound. To a degree.

Rogash eyed the dwarf warily, not recognizing him as a local. He swore that if one more person tried to run him out of town for being a savage, he would take the blunt end of his crossbow and brain the poor sod. "To what do I deserve this great honor, brother?"

The guards began to panick as the face of the figure at the wall was revealed, his hood whipped back by the very energy's he wielded. The oddly large head sat upon the tiny, green frame stared up at the guard's in a red-eyed mixture of glee and rage as it's lips never ceased their evocation. They began to sound the alarm, raising the cry of "Goblins!" along the wall. In return did the goblin sorcerer reply, "Ro Da!" With those last uttered syllables, did an infernal tempest come screeching out of the goblin's staff, striking the wall with the force of an angry god and shattering the long standing fortification. From the tree line of the jungle, a rumble was heard and those guards lucky enough to further away from the ruins left in the wake of the sorcerer's spell, stared on in horror as hundreds of the tiny figures began to dash from the jungle to the breach. What's worse, not all of them charged on foot. Indeed, the roaring of the goblins was drowned out by roars dwarfing the tiny voices, as saurians mounted by teams of goblins began to emerge behind the infantry charge. Crudely armored goblins weilding makeshift spears and swords rode on human sized, bipeds, their feathers and skin a shock of color yet their claws the length of a man's forearm.

(I said I'd do it and I did! Goblins riding velociraptors, and so do we begin. While the Inn is near the middle of the town, the blast and the concurring goblin charge is loud enough to be heard, if not quite clearly.)

KB humbly bows his head, then offers a plate of food and drink to the HO. ((Half Orc ))
"It'd appear tha da least crowded place be here around yeh, stranger. Perhaps ye could share tha extra seat and enjoy a warm meal?"

Hearing the loud explosion in the distance, Saverio immediately leaves the tavern to see where it came from. All the while pondering all the chemical reactions that could have caused such an explosions.

Borim would drop the plate of food he's balancing as the explosion resounds around the town, drowning out even the most raucous of carousers occupying his inn. Noticing a tall human leaving to investigate, he quickly takes stock of the room. Guards would occasionally frequent his establishment off duty, or even sell swords for the local trade guilds. Where was.. He knew he'd seen him.. There! "Eh, what's wrong Rogash, got cold feet? Go check out what that was, and I'll get everyone settled in here." Borim sells it with a wry grin that manages to say, "Get out of here because you're upsetting the clientele", just as much as, "You can trust me!"

Rogash snorts in derision, before grabbing his crossbow as well as his blade and backpack, headed for the door. He turns back to the dwarven cleric and notices the axe that he is ((presumably)) wearing. "Willing to use that?"

Saverio would be bombarded by sound and movement the moment he exited the Chequers as people flee all around him. There are screams and fires that have sprung up all around the pavilion, smoke turning day to dusk, barring the roaring flames of tents and even people.
((Gifford, your call. Take a perception test, go barreling into the crowd, hug the wall, re-enter the tavern?))