It is the early morning in Bolldrei's Hearth, a cheap Inn District in the Lower Central Plateau of Sharn, the City of
Across the street from a particular inn, a halfling is napping in the
sun on a low wall, using an oversized shabby green cloak as a blanket.
Sticking out from the cloak is an unkempt head of short dirty blond
hair. He's facing towards an inn across the street, drooling slightly
in his sleep. One of his boots is on the wall next to his head, with a
few copper coins in it. He smells quite strongly of cheap liquor. He
stirs slightly as the gnome and dwarf run past, rising slightly to
check the contents of his boot before sinking back down to sleep.
A half-elf steps gingerly down the street, muttering sullenly to himself. He's dressed far too well for this part of town, but the clothing is worn, suggesting he's been in similar circumstances before. He grins as the gnome and dwarf run by, before a passing wagon splashes the contents of a puddle into his curly black hair, causing him to flail frantically for a few moments before resuming his dour expression.
A huge dog is lying near the entrance to a nearby alley and chewing on a large bone. The dog covered in bits of mud and dirt and one of its front paws looks bent out of shape, as if it was broken and healed that way.
A human male strolls through the street, seemingly ignorant of the people around his, only stopping to rummage through various rubbish bins pulling out obscure scraps and eying them in the sunlight only to mutter to himself and either pocket them or toss them aside. A closer look reveals something strange about the man, and it quickly becomes apparent that this is not a human, but a changeling who is constantly shuffling personas, almost giving him the look of a sloppy blur.
From around the corner of the
dashing young man comes strolling up to the
packages and bundles while whistling merrily. He is dressed
fashionably, at least fashionably for a man of workman's status, with
a flute sticking out of his back pocket and a rakish hat sitting up on
an angle on his head. The Innkeep sees him and turns away from his
more frustrating conversation to issue quick orders to some
assistants, who begin helping this man unload his packages into the
A tall elf emerges out of an inn, he is dressed in an old but well taken care of green robe. He looks around, takes in his surroundings and breathes in the air before sitting down a few paces from the door of the inn and starts to meditate. Even though the street is bustling with people his concentration is not broken until a street vendor claps him on the shoulder and yells at him to move. The elf rises quickly, moves to another spot and resumes his meditation.
Suddenly, the casual bustling of the street is interrupted by the shrill scream of a woman. The door of the Squeaky Cog bursts open and a balding man with a potbelly erupts forth with a...thing on his back. He is bleeding from the neck as the armored bugs, about the size of a puppy, is digging its mandibles into his shoulder. He grunts in pain as a woman runs out with a cleaver, screaming at the top of her lungs. The man tears the creature off and throws it on the ground with a loud curse as the woman dutifully steps in and drives the cleaver through its armor, sending green goo splattering over her hand and apron.
The monk immediately breaks out of his trance and quickly rises to his feet. He runs towards the man and woman and stops in front of them. He looks at them and asks "What has happened?"
"Someone's not setting their ant traps! Ahahaha." The man at the
wagon turns and saunters over to the scene, inserting himself forcibly
into the scene. "I knew they grow them big around here but damn!"
The dog looks up for a minute, surveys the scene, then goes back to chewing the bone.
When the woman screams the half-elf's fingers rush to the dagger at his side, and the perceptive note a faint spark that flashes along the blade.
The halfling jerks awake violently, knocking his boot off of the wall,
scattering the handful of copper coins. He looks around frantically
until he identifies the source of the noise and sees the dead bug.
Muttering, he rolls out from under the cloak, scoops some copper back
into his boot, gathers his cloak and boot, stumbles over near the bug,
sets the boot down, crawls back under the cloak and goes back to
sleep.
The woman falls to her knees crying. She is a particularly plain looking woman, her cheeks are flushed bright red. The man throws out another swear, "Curs-ed Six."
He looks to the fast-moving elf, "They came out of nowhere. Well thats not really true, they came out of the basement. A bunch of them. They tried to kill all of us, managed to get out just in time. Bastards pretty much overran my damn inn.
The elf glances towards the inn and then looks back at the man. "If you need any help ridding yourself of these creatures I will gladly lend my hand."
The man looks at you in a bit of shock, though he feebly tries to hide the expression on his face. "Well that would be great. But there's a bunch of the lil buggers, you might have a hard time by yourself, son."
The halfling throws the cloak off and jumps to his feet. He tugs on his boot, leaving him in a full, if shabby-looking, suit of leather armor. He's holding an oversized (for a halfling, at least) mace, and has a crossbow strapped to his waist. "How many are we talkin', pops?" he says, not bothering to contain the excitement in his voice or on his face. He is so happy to be here right now, you guys.
The half-elf strolls over. "A bit of bug-killing certainly beats message delivery. Don't suppose there'd be a reward for restoring your inn to operation?"
"Adunno, I saw maybe 3 or more but I heard some chitterings like there was a big'un too." The man looks uncomfortable at the mention of pay. "Sure. Pay." He mutters something under his breath with a sullen look. "Well if you don't rob my stash I suppose I could pay the lot of you...say, 50 gold each for cleaning out ma place?"
The half-elf bows with a flourish. "Sir, you have just engaged the services of Jacobus d'Lyrandar, insect exterminator!" Turning to the halfling and elf, "I suppose you gentlemen are interested in the job as well?"
"Now wait just a second ya'll, I'm not against playing exterminator if
the price is right. Assuming then, that the price, is right." The
man in the hat walks over to his wagon and fiddles with a shape tucked
under the bottom. After a few flicks of his nimble fingers he
detaches a mean looking crossbow and walks back to the growing group
with a mischievous smile on his face. "'Tis a pleasure to meet you
gentlemen, the name is Diggie Stacks and I would be remiss not to
accompany you."
The man gives a curt nod to the joining Diggie, clearly unhappy about the increasing bill, but also too afraid to not get help. "Well whenever you guys are ready, there are two doors, that street door that I just took out into the street, and the alley door up there (he points around the right side of the inn). They both lead into the same room. There are several rooms in the upstairs, and then there's a basement below where they came from. It's a humble little place, please don't smash it up, because that will come out of your reward."
"Well gentlemen, shall we proceed? That is, shall someone else
proceed? I find my most useful role in situations such as these lies
somewhat rearward." -Diggie
The halfling strides confidently into the inn.
The elf follows the halfling in.
The dog's ears perk up, and on seeing them enter the inn drops the bone, gets up and follows.
After the initial burst of commotion has ended the changling silently walks up to the dead insect picks it up and starts inspecting it, nearly dissecting it on the spot, taking mental notes quickly pulling out organs and such. At the mention of more of the creatures and possibly a larger specimen he drops the dead insect and silently follows the others, keeping a few paces back.
The halfling moves to the front door (D1) and throws it open.
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The scene in front of you is less than appealing. What seems to be a normal looking base floor of the inn/tavern that is the Squeaky Cog is in serious need of extermination. There are two, large, terrible looking....bugs. They have relatively tough looking carapaces from which 6 grotesque appendages with spikes at the end of each emerge. The large one chitter a terrible clacking sound and their forearm-length mandibles clack, dripping with some sort of venomous looking substance. Amongst the room and under the chairs skitter about 8 more of the small broodlings, miniature versions of the monstrosities that sit before you.
One charges forward and glares, almost as a challenge, at the door. A small one charges forward, ready to feast upon the fresh meat.
(Chances are very low that Adams initiative will be above 20, so Max, you can go)
26 A1 - Delay to 19
23 B5 - Move forward and defend
20 A2 - Move forward and defend
20 Zenor
19 A1
19 B6
16 B8
16 B1
15 Lars
13 Large Dog
12 B4
9 Blinn
7 B2
6 B7
4 B3
4 Jacobus
3 Diggie
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