Your party stands, facing the now open maw of the old Wistvale sewers. Old, because Wistvale's renovations led to a radical reinvention of just how the sewers work and now, much of the water is re-purposed and used to irrigate crops and parklands within the high town area. The old sewers are just that now - a labyrinth of old tunnels that slosh with run off and storm water, refuse and whomever chooses to haunt these dark and foreboding corridors. It has been said that their depths are deceptive and predate the city which was once a small village in the middle of nowhere.
To the why. Twice this past week, whole Sentinel patrols have been slaughtered within the town. These patrols consisted of three men each, both were attacked at night and both showed signs that the responsible parties fled to the sewers. Whilst the Sentinels have since tripled their guard, they currently do not have the resources to resolve the matter and instead, have settled for securing the area.
Your party has been granted permission to look into it - with a stern warning from the guard. They won't come looking for you, should you not return. They gave you little else in the way information, but have supplied you with a crude map.
(Prep your party gang, you won't be seeing the surface for a time How you've fallen in together would also be swell.)
His reason for being here was simple. He had come to town looking for work and had spent days in search of such. What little coin he had was near spent and he was begining to think the gods had frowned upon him for some slight when the heavens opened up in the form of a piece of parchment nailed to a board.
He was experienced in these things and knew exactly what this was. They were expendable. Useful to flush out the enemy and discover their whereabouts and not much more. It was likely they were expected to die in this endeavor. With success being a welcome, but altogether surprising outcome.
He may as well paint a target on his shield.
But coin was coin, and he did not intend to die this day.
"Well...
Shall we get on with this then?"
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
(I am happy with one more, but we can launch when you like and write someone in within the first few pages. You may need a little more diversity in your group )
Since receiving a piece of information dealing with the Red Brothers having something to do with the sewers, Miroslaw has been searching day and night for jobs that led him into the intricate sewers below Wistvale. This was the perfect opportunity and may even be directly related to what he was seeking. He jumped at the opportunity, eager to be granted the revenge he so vigorously pursued! He thoroughly looked forward to coming face to face with Piper and Redblade, so he could personally end their fear spreading ways.
He now stood at the sewer entrance with the others that has signed up for this, potentially deadly, adventure, nearly ready to move into the quite disgusting setting. As a final action before, he revealed his holy book and began reading a prayer of protection from the pages. Protection for the entire group, whether they accepted protection from his foreign God or not.
"May He show us what is meant to be seen and hide from us what is not. May He guide us through the darkness and see to our safe passage. For He alone knows the way through the evil that lurks around each corner, and He alone can truly smite that evil while protecting those that are good. Preserver watch over us."
After finishing the small excerpt, he closed it with a "thump", and reopened his eyes. He spoke up as he put his book back to be pressed between his armor and his chest, caring little if he was actually the last to be ready or not, "Are we about ready to go then?"
Last Edit: May 18, 2014 1:41:34 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Zarr had accepted his first job in Wistvale. He was pretty excited about it because not only would he make some decent gold for it, but he got to work along side with his fellow Sorren brethren he had met when he first arrived. The other man he did not know, but he would not reject an opportunty to make another friend.
After Miro finished giving his prayer, Zarr raised both of his axes over his head and banged them together several times, showing gratitude for Miro's words.
Aye lads! Lets finish this job together and come back to get our rewards. First round will be on me at the tavern.... I can taste the ale already.
He licked his lips as he began to walk forward, holding his axes in front of him ready to strike. There was a certain rush in him, he yearned to fight and it was pretty apparent as he had a certain evil smile entering the sewers.
Well then, Zarr bravely decides that he will take the first steps into adventure and learns rather quickly that he and his Soren partner may well have to watch their heads. At least they needn't concern themselves with getting entirely lost, given that the map they have been provided with is quite well drawn, though the markings and notations upon it mean little to them.
The entrance to this region of the Wistvale underground is via the stairwell in the NE corner. Pushing down the stairs, this has the group facing a corridor which leads both ahead and to their left. A dozen feet away is a door on the right which, according to their map, opens onto a room only marked with the number 1.
Light filters down the stairwell behind them, but there is no telling how much light they may have further in, as dark presses at the ends of the corridor in both directions. Water is routinely heard dripping, with the occasional splash echoing off the walls in a thin, tinny tone. This corridor already smells damp, as one might expect.
(Alright boys, I am PMing you all the map as a group which you may find useful for your reference and any OOC concerns you may have regarding navigation and the like.)
Ah... It looks like some bloody dwarves built these sewers. Its so cramped down here.
He looks towards the door and then the map they were given before looking towards their left.
There's a dead end over here. Let's check every room and corner to make a good sweep and make sure nothing gets unchecked, yeah? These rats can be anywhere.
Zarr waits to see what the others had to say before moving forward.
It was not going to be a pleasant search. This place was not meant for Sorens. Miroslaw found himself needing to slouch down to save his head from some unneeded trauma. His back was surely going to pay for it after all this was done. Unfortunately, his weapon was also going to be trouble. There was no way he was going to be able to make anything of a wide swing in these cramped hallways.
"Aye. Cramped and dark. Anyone come prepared with a torch?" He looks around on the walls, looking for a torch or a light source of some nature.
"Aye, that sounds like a plan. No telling where they will be. Stay alert. Lets check the dead end and then room one." With that, he turned to head down the hallway that appeared to be a dead end.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
He bowed his head when the Soren said his prayer. It wasn't so much that he held the same beliefs then it was out of respect. He had traveled many lands and seen many types of people. To him it had been enough to see that while the names may be different, the faith was the same. And that was what was important. It wasn't the path you follow, it was that you followed one at all.
He nodded his agreement with the plan so far and held back as the other two entered ahead of him. It seemed they were going to have some trouble manuvering down here, and while it may hamper his ability to give aid should an attack come, he felt better about not having one or both of them blocking up the path out of here should things go south.
"I did not. Not that it would do me much good anyway. Hands being full and all."
He shrugged his shoulders in a way that brought attention to his spear and shield. Once the others entered, he would follow behind and take up a position at the place where the dead end path branched off so that he would be ready for something coming from either direction.
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
Venturing first into the dead end in the NE corner, the party discovers that it is completely disinteresting. At the end of this small tunnel, there is a large grate in the floor, which water is presently dribbling through before splashing into more water beneath it, somewhere in the dark. There is some debris laying on the grate, caught here as the water passes. There is little else of interest as well.
Seeing as he was told there was nothing at the end of the hall, Argent turned to head further down the hallway towards room #1, now in the lead and not sure how he felt about that.
Equally unsure of what to expect out of the people they were hunting, he kept the tip of his spear low to the ground and occasionally probed at the path ahead of him with as much reach it his weapon would comfortably provide.
Assuming he safely reaches the door to room #1, he would cross to stand on the opposite side to give his partners more room to close in before probing the door with his spear to see if it would open on its own without having to work a latch.
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.