[action] this is crit nerdiness. /backdated to yesterday
The tavern you find yourself in isn't all that spectacular. The land you're currently in has been plagued by raids from the neighbouring orc regions and you can definitely start to see the wear and tear, not just on the buildings themselves, but the people. Everyone is either armed to the teeth or looking very paranoid. It's really not surprising though, while a hardy northern town could handle a few orc raids, they're more worried about the rumours they've been hearing from other towns.
The dragons. Apparently they've returned, and with these rumours on top of the King of Skyrim being killed, it's no wonder everyone looks so worn.
But not to worry! Tamriel's intrepid hero has arrived! Or something. The tavern door opens and a man walks in from the blizzard outside, sneezing but besides that he is totally fine. The armour he's wearing is bright and new, clearly someone from the Imperial city in Cyrodiil. The logo-
"I try and hit the hero with magic missile."
"Ion- You can't do that. Just wait until I finish introducing everyone- and you don't even have magic missile yet. Look over your spells again. Anyway- where was I..."
-the logo of Pelor is worn proud upon his chest. He looks around the tavern and takes a seat, observing the other patrons. He first notices a mage, an elf from the looks of it, lurking near the fire.
"Ion, what familiar did you pick?"
"Nu."
"I'm just going to assign you one if you don't choose... Okay, fine."
A small kitten is sitting on the sorcerer's lap, claws half-ripping up the robes the mage is wearing. Displeased, the mage grumbles and accidentally bumps into a bard who was sitting near the fire as well, plucking away at a mandolin-
"Alfred, I wouldn't ever play the mandolin."
"Dewi- it doesn't matter! You're a bard, just pick something."
"Piano."
"...Yeah, we're just going to drag a piano around the entire campaign."
"I don't see why not."
"It has to be something portable."
"I will sing then~!"
The bard sitting near the fire is... singing and there's a few patrons around him, enjoying the stories he's weaving about better times. One of the women that is watching is a very pretty ranger. Her bow rests near her arm and she seems completely enraptured with the bard's tale. A few of the people around her have rather lost their attention with the bard and are instead focusing on the ranger and her rather large-
"A-Alfred, t-this is me, right?"
"Yeah Kat, you're the ranger, remember?"
"Da... What do I have that are large?"
"Uh..."
And she has large... eyes. Yeah, big doeful eyes that doesn't make her look like much of a warrior but her bow is chipped and if anyone were to challenge her naive looking person, they'd probably find themselves with an arrow in the heart. Sitting with her at the table is another warrior, this one in armour similar to the hero's that just walked in, but it's a little more burnished and is lacking any god's symbol. That and it's a lot smaller as the paladin sitting at the ranger's table is a halfling. While he sits-
"Raivis- stop reading that stupid book!"
"Alfred! Bella is about to go into labou- HEY! GIVE IT BACK!"
"You can have it back once I introduce you. Besides, it's a terrible series- I mean... It's- great- Stop giving me that look! You can have your book back- sheesh..."
While he sits down a large dog beside him, big enough for the halfling to ride, is gnawing on a large chunk of meat, huge teeth tearing through the flesh with ease. The only two remaining members of the taverns are away from the fire, both sitting in a corner. A rogue is barely visible in the shadows, an enchanted lighter of sorts flicks on and off while the table in front of them is laden with bombs.
"...Can I light the bombs?"
"Well, you'll kill everyone in the room Zhi."
"I'm chaotic evil."
"You'll also kill yourself. You're not chaotically stupid."
The final member of the tavern sits beside the rogue and is tearing into a leg of meat that appears to have belong to some kind of mammoth. A massive double-axe rests against the wall, nearly as big as half-orc himself. You've never seen anything like this hulking monster and he looks like he could kill you just be staring at you. And if that doesn't work he'll just cut you in half.
While the hero gives this half-orc a wide birth it isn't long-
"Wait... Who's playing the half-orc barbarian?... LILI!?"
"I like how he looked in the book..."
"...Right."
The hero that entered at the beginning of the hour has now ordered a pint of ale and has taken stock of everyone in the bar, a very motley bunch of adventures for sure. Before he can order a second one, an old man shuffles in from the cold outside and sits down at a table and with his eyes, seems to beckon anyone looking for an adventure towards him-
"I kill the old man with magic missiles-"
"DAMMIT, ION."
[ooc: since not all participating members of the D&D group actually play D&D, we're going to do some more Hetalia RPG/Fantasia related threads. And since we should all be on the same page for where the HELL this is taking place, we'll be in the land of Tamriel and start out in the Skyrim province. For spells and while everything else will be running on the 3.5 system (because 4.0 bothers me)
I HAVE A PLOT PREPARED AS WELL SO... IF YOU WANT ANYTHING SPECIAL TO HAPPEN WITH YOUR CHARACTER, AIM ME.]
The dragons. Apparently they've returned, and with these rumours on top of the King of Skyrim being killed, it's no wonder everyone looks so worn.
But not to worry! Tamriel's intrepid hero has arrived! Or something. The tavern door opens and a man walks in from the blizzard outside, sneezing but besides that he is totally fine. The armour he's wearing is bright and new, clearly someone from the Imperial city in Cyrodiil. The logo-
"I try and hit the hero with magic missile."
"Ion- You can't do that. Just wait until I finish introducing everyone- and you don't even have magic missile yet. Look over your spells again. Anyway- where was I..."
-the logo of Pelor is worn proud upon his chest. He looks around the tavern and takes a seat, observing the other patrons. He first notices a mage, an elf from the looks of it, lurking near the fire.
"Ion, what familiar did you pick?"
"Nu."
"I'm just going to assign you one if you don't choose... Okay, fine."
A small kitten is sitting on the sorcerer's lap, claws half-ripping up the robes the mage is wearing. Displeased, the mage grumbles and accidentally bumps into a bard who was sitting near the fire as well, plucking away at a mandolin-
"Alfred, I wouldn't ever play the mandolin."
"Dewi- it doesn't matter! You're a bard, just pick something."
"Piano."
"...Yeah, we're just going to drag a piano around the entire campaign."
"I don't see why not."
"It has to be something portable."
"I will sing then~!"
The bard sitting near the fire is... singing and there's a few patrons around him, enjoying the stories he's weaving about better times. One of the women that is watching is a very pretty ranger. Her bow rests near her arm and she seems completely enraptured with the bard's tale. A few of the people around her have rather lost their attention with the bard and are instead focusing on the ranger and her rather large-
"A-Alfred, t-this is me, right?"
"Yeah Kat, you're the ranger, remember?"
"Da... What do I have that are large?"
"Uh..."
And she has large... eyes. Yeah, big doeful eyes that doesn't make her look like much of a warrior but her bow is chipped and if anyone were to challenge her naive looking person, they'd probably find themselves with an arrow in the heart. Sitting with her at the table is another warrior, this one in armour similar to the hero's that just walked in, but it's a little more burnished and is lacking any god's symbol. That and it's a lot smaller as the paladin sitting at the ranger's table is a halfling. While he sits-
"Raivis- stop reading that stupid book!"
"Alfred! Bella is about to go into labou- HEY! GIVE IT BACK!"
"You can have it back once I introduce you. Besides, it's a terrible series- I mean... It's- great- Stop giving me that look! You can have your book back- sheesh..."
While he sits down a large dog beside him, big enough for the halfling to ride, is gnawing on a large chunk of meat, huge teeth tearing through the flesh with ease. The only two remaining members of the taverns are away from the fire, both sitting in a corner. A rogue is barely visible in the shadows, an enchanted lighter of sorts flicks on and off while the table in front of them is laden with bombs.
"...Can I light the bombs?"
"Well, you'll kill everyone in the room Zhi."
"I'm chaotic evil."
"You'll also kill yourself. You're not chaotically stupid."
The final member of the tavern sits beside the rogue and is tearing into a leg of meat that appears to have belong to some kind of mammoth. A massive double-axe rests against the wall, nearly as big as half-orc himself. You've never seen anything like this hulking monster and he looks like he could kill you just be staring at you. And if that doesn't work he'll just cut you in half.
While the hero gives this half-orc a wide birth it isn't long-
"Wait... Who's playing the half-orc barbarian?... LILI!?"
"I like how he looked in the book..."
"...Right."
The hero that entered at the beginning of the hour has now ordered a pint of ale and has taken stock of everyone in the bar, a very motley bunch of adventures for sure. Before he can order a second one, an old man shuffles in from the cold outside and sits down at a table and with his eyes, seems to beckon anyone looking for an adventure towards him-
"I kill the old man with magic missiles-"
"DAMMIT, ION."
[ooc: since not all participating members of the D&D group actually play D&D, we're going to do some more Hetalia RPG/Fantasia related threads. And since we should all be on the same page for where the HELL this is taking place, we'll be in the land of Tamriel and start out in the Skyrim province. For spells and while everything else will be running on the 3.5 system (because 4.0 bothers me)
I HAVE A PLOT PREPARED AS WELL SO... IF YOU WANT ANYTHING SPECIAL TO HAPPEN WITH YOUR CHARACTER, AIM ME.]