Two Weeks ago
The time has come.
Over the last two days each of you has received a job offer and an invitation to meet your teammates.
And so as the heat of the summer evening presses down, you find yourselves in the dwarven district of Ramelean looking for a tavern named simply, Fate. Finding the Tavern is easy, finding entry much less so. The gruff scowling woman at the door bars the way, seemingly uninterested in any patrons larger than a dwarf.
“The chairs, the tables, the bar, and,” She says pointedly, “The ceiling are built for dwarves. Best move along, try the Platinum Tankard, you won’t crack your skull standing up there.”
Upon mentioning your name, or the name of the man who invited you the reaction changes.
Tyragorn wrote:She nods approvingly of Tyragorn’s strapping figure and weapons, and cheerfully waves the Paladin to follow her
Zasio wrote:A look of knowing understanding and warmth passes her face, and she politely invites Zasio in.
Georgia wrote:She shakes her head in long suffering amusement as she leads Georgia in mumbling though a smile, “Oh, that boy and his bards”
Jessica wrote:Jessica is met with a polite bow and a note how the children of Pelor were welcome in Moradin’s home.
You’re lead to a building behind the Tavern, and into a private room, away from the noise and bustle of the city.Aldan wrote:Aldan is met not with disdain or casual cutting remarks, as one might expect from a dwarf to an elf, but instead with a shocked surprised look on her face. You even catch her glancing back to look at your ears as if she was maybe seeing things. She never does seem to get her bearings back by the time she’s brought you to the table, and quickly scampers off after shooting one quick confused look to your host.
This one room seems to have been made with taller races in mind. The chairs and table are all exquisitely made, engraved, and stained, and either they see little use or they’ve been kept in pristine condition. On the table sit chilled wine and ale, alongside plates of cheese and sausage for people to eat while they wait.
The half-elf at the head of the table was at one point a great bear of a man, though the missing arm makes him look smaller now. Ten years ago one would have still heard stories of the Lion of Blackmoore, but these days it seems those stories were a very long time ago. His long blonde hair and well-kept beard shows streaks of grey, but his blue eyes show signs of energy that age and his missing limbs can’t conquer.
“Thank you all for coming,” Jarrak says as the last of you arrive, “You all know who I am. I brought you all together to look into the darkness that seems to be lingering over Orlane. What you do not know is each other.”
“I’ve asked you to join me for dinner tonight to meet the people you will be working with. I don’t know that any of you have met before, and I would like to give you the chance to meet somewhere nicer than a dusty, beaten road.”
"Each of you has strength, skills, or cunning that will help see you all through, and I have faith in your potential to overcome anything set in you path."
“But enough of my prattle. Please, introduce yourselves,” He says with a smile, offering over the table to you.