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Graterras Chapter 1: The Darkness Descends. [IC]


Raindrop Valkyrie

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It was a cold winter morning. In fact it was the very day before the Spring Solstice, yet an odd chill hung in the air. This had been the coldest and most miserable year the Shadowed Isle had ever had, which is saying a lot. In this Forsaken land people were giving up after losing the year's harvest food was scarce, spirits were low, and men turned to their drink.

A lonely village by the Briny River was most fortunate however. Brinestar was it's name. It was one of few areas where the Iceskined Cod lived, the only Fish that would stick around for the Winter Season. Brinestar managed to thrive off it's Fishing Industry, attracting many Merchants, Traders, Travelers, and Adventurers. It of course also attracted folks of a more unsavory nature as well.

Here our tale begins, in a small riverside Tavern, known as The Drunken Clam.

The sound of clanking and celebrating was abound. The Fishermen had just made another enormous catch. The air smelled of Fish and Booze, and a slight smell of sweat. The Drunken Clam was by no means a seedy bar, but it wasn't a high class establishment either. Suddenly the door flew open, the bell above the door tinkling with delight. A young Dwarf had entered the establishment, wearing Silver armour-trimmed with gold embellishments. It was obvious he was a Paladin Initiate, though he was rather far from Arbouretium, it left one to wonder why he was in this god-forsaken land.

The answer came quickly, in the form of a father running to embrace his son. A much older Dwarf, ran over to the boy and picked him up in his arms. The Older Dwarf was amongst the Fishermen from before. He had raven black hair, with tinges of Silver around his beard. He had a simple Ponytail pulled in the back, complemented by a simple braid in the Front. He walked to the front of the room and banged a glass to get everyone's attention, his Son standing next to him. He said something about finally meeting his son again after 6 years, and that he was an official Paladin now. It was hard to hear over all the cheering of the Fishermen. "I want to go around to every table to give each and every one of ya a fine beer, luckily since my brother runs this Inn You will all get the finest Thunderbrew Ale!" A resounding roar came from the crowd of Fisherman, it was almost deafening.

((OOC, this Dwarf fellow will come to everyone's table in the Inn to give them a drink, none of you know him yet. He will talk to you all a bit when he gives you your drink, this is your time to introduce yourself. This doesn't need to be in any particular order, first start by posting the bar scene from your character's view, in the order of those posts I will have the Dwarf come around to your characters then you can do an intro like thing to him, [He will ask you a few questions etc]. After this the Story will be under way.)

Edited by Hukuna
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Akuma arrives a few steps outside the pub with his face heavily clothed covering his beak while the only thing visible was his left eye, his black poncho covers the majority of his body including his wings on his back and drapes up to his feet as the winter morning breeze blows gently. the reason he has to do this is to avoid judgement to his kind. He enters the pub's door breaking and dropping the dangling icicle around it.

Akuma noticed so far so good...as the people and the dwarfs in the tavern seems to not care as they were jolly as their glasses clink and seems celebrating, none of them seems familiar but he did not care. he quickly order by saying "One brew please" to the bartender and passing everyone around him. he finds a nice spot where the people are few. there he settle himself putting his massive hammer in a standing position(head first to the floor) next to him while he was waiting for his order.

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"No need friend." said a rather gruff voice. "Drinks on on me today." The Dwarf Father sat down across from Akuma. His Raven black hair flowed gracefully as he sat down. Akuma could see the eyes of this Dwarf, they were a strange Orange color, and they glowed like fresh embers that had just hopped off the forge. He slammed a hearty mug of ale in front of the well concealed Birdman. "I don't think I have seen you 'round here before, the name is Odin Thunderbrew, my brother is the owner of this fine establishment. What brings someone like you to this hellhole of a Fishing Village?" he said making idle conversation. "That Hammer ain't the tool of some normal tradesmen or a humble Fisherman, I know that for sure.".

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Akuma felt uneasy after that greeting from the Dwarf right across him. he adjusted his clothing on his beak feeling ill-concealed, he was feeling grateful about this dwarf and being the easy to get along guy the he is, he replied " Well thanks pops, much appreciate the names Akuma" as he was holding the mug as he continues the pleasantry "You're not just generous but observant as well..hahaha, well the hammer isn't mine."

as Akuma told white lie "It is an errand from a friend from the Shifting sands delivering this burden, I've been wondering from here and there trying to make a living till i stumble around here my good man." as he shakes his own mug gently. "Don't get comfortable with me i won't be long, You better get back with the other customers and give them what they want, we don't wanna start a drunk riot now would we? hahaha" as he was trying to get rid off the old man off his back and have a quiet time alone.

Edited by typhlosionrulez
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A half-Orc sat alone at a small table in the corner, his face masked by the shadows created by his maple-colored cloak. Next to his chair was a small satchel. The stocky figure raised his cup, draining it of the mead that remained. He was sullen for a moment; after all, he had just spent the last of his coin that he'd budgeted for drinks during this stop. Fortune favored the half-Orc, however, as a Paladin initiate walked in. The lone figure took little notice of the dwarf before another, presumably his father, embraced him and then offered everyone a Thunderbrew Ale. The lone half-Orc sat stoically at his table, however. Many people were not overly fond of the Green Orcs, and so it was the safer course of action not to attract any attention to himself. He took his pipe, a wooden one with a long stem, out from under his cloak and began to put some pipe-weed in it. When he was done, he lit a match and inhaled, then exhaled a large smoke ring and blew three smaller ones through it. The lone figure smiled slightly to himself before his face returned to a mask of stoicism.

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"Here friend a mug for you." said Odin as he sat across from a cloaked figure he saw off in the corner of the room. It was a half-orc. Odin wanted to be sure to hand this man his drink in particular knowing his brother wasn't fond of orcs in the slightest. Odin didn't know if the concern could be seen in his face. His Molten Eyes aflame with the good spirits his decided to strike up a small conversation with the Half-Orc Man." He reached his hand across the table for a friendly handshake "The name's Odin Thunderbrew, and before you go getting all worried, I don't care what you are, tonight if you are in this bar, you are a kindred spirit and a friend of mine." he said a friendly smile on his face. "What brings you here to Brinestar? I mean no offense, but typically the villages and towns around here aren't to kind to your people."

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A young (for an elf) Cinder Knight sat at the corner of the bar, trying to keep warm, his bright cloak wrapped about himself. He was rather unused to the bitter cold of this region, though his talents as a templar of Pyoron helped with that issue. He wasn't here to drink; he had stopped in this town on his travels about the region, looking for those in need of his help. So far, he hadn't been overly successful; the troubles here weren't of the nature that he could solve. He was here to battle injustice and tyranny, but all he had encountered was poverty and despair of a more mundane nature.

He sighed. There was a dwarf entering the tavern. He appeared to be a templar of Bartimus; a paladin, he believed they called themselves. Perhaps they were here for similar purposes. Well, not likely for his secondary purpose, but few survived that particular issue. The dwarf started to move about the room, giving out drinks and chatting with a few of the denizens of the establishment. With suspicion, he watched him talk to a strange, cloaked figure who only revealed an eye. Perhaps he was making a hasty judgement, but he didn't feel at ease. He put a hand on his oversized blade as the dwarf left and began talking to another individual. This one was. . . a half-orc? The fellow didn't strike him as particularly menacing, but one never knew. Some half-orcs leaned toward their more civilized side, while others. . . others had met their ends on the blades of his order.

He settled back into the chair, still idly fondling the grip of his sword, as he continued to observe the scene.

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Marcus was sitting by the counter, an annoyed look at his face. While the rest of the bar was in a rather festive mood, he couldn't say he shared the same interest for fish that the other costumers displayed.

He was cold, had little money left on his purse and worse: he was bored as hell on this Pyron forsaken island. When he heard about the Shadowed Isle for the first time, he thought it would be a dangerous place where he could find some errand worth of his time. Up to now, it was just a bunch of miserable villages fighting against an enemy he was helpless against: hunger. And unless he wanted to go hungry too, he would have to leave this place soon, empty handed.

With that depressing thought he finished his ale, and was about to leave when a Dwarf Paladin entered the room. The noise was too much for him to make sense of what was happening, but he heard the another Dwarf offer drinks for everyone, and a free drink was something he wasn't going to throw away. He then sat back at his place and waited for the generous little man to come.

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The cloaked figure looked up at the dwarf, his flat upturned nose and his protruding lower canine teeth giving away his heritage. The half-Orc reached across the table, clasping the dwarf's forearm in a friendly handshake. "I thank you for your kind words, friend. Not many have them for we half-men. I am called Drug'Thok Grunara. And I am simply a traveler, making my way among these, the least traveled of lands." He gestured to the bag next to his chair. "I am a... scholar. So, how long has this tavern been in your family?"

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He laughed a hardy laugh, it sounded as if it came from the depths of the earth. "It has been with us for at least 100 years now, we Dwarves live a longtime you know. It is a hard life around these parts, but we Thunderbrews make due." he chuckled at this. "Well nice meeting you Drug'Thok, may your stay here be enjoyable, and your travels forunate. I must attend to the other guests." As Odin stood up he gave a bow to the Half-Orc, as he began to walk away.

He next saw an Elf. This here was a strange fellow. He seemed to be garbed in the attire of the Cinder Knights. Odin wondered to himself what one of their order was doing out here in the Shadowed Isles, there usually wasn't much that interested them out here. He brought the Elf a glass as he sat down across from him. "The name is Odin Thunderbrew, nice to meet you Cinder Knight, if you don't mind me asking, what brings one of your order our here to lonely little Brinestar?"

((just to be clear, this is to Murdoc's character))

Edited by Hukuna
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The elf sat up as the dwarf approached him. "Just trying to good wherever I can," he responded to the dwarf's question. "I am Xavier Sylvaurus." He politely sipped the drink the dwarf brought him, though he was careful not to have too much at once. "The troubles here don't seem to be of the sort that one such as I can help with, though. A blade makes a very poor tool for feeding the poor." He looked at the dwarf carefully once more. "If you don't mind, I'll pose the same question to you. Is there a purpose to your visit other than reuniting with family? I would think a paladin would have a similar lack of reasons to come to this place otherwise."

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The dwarf had a puzzled look on his face. "Paladin eh? You would want my son. He just received his Knighthood and came to visit. I have lived in this village most my life since I had left the Shattered Hills long ago as a wee lad." He laughed his hearty laugh once more "However, mayhaps you should head to Nevermore? It is the capital of the Shadowed Isle, and they have loads of trouble with thieves, corrupt guards, and more unsavoury sorts of people. They are one of the only Cites that truly thrive this time of year here. And if by thrive I mean Politicians ripping off people to make a quick buck and further their corrupt work." He sighed "Welp nice meeting ya lad, I best be off to make sure me guests all have a belly full of a fine drink." with that he stood up, and began to head towards another table.

He walked to a young Man. He looked pale, a bit starved and malnourished. "Aye, you look like a Rat's ass after he has dragged it through a pile of refuse. Name's Odin Thunderbrew, and here a little something extra to go with your ale." He placed the Mug down in front of the man, along with half of loaf of bread. It was nothing special, but it would help the man he felt. He sat down at the table across from him, Odin wanted to make sure this man got something in his belly, else he would feel guilty about it. Besides, with the recent influx of wealth coming through Brinestar, there wasn't much harm in being a bit generous to the downtrodden.

Edited by Hukuna
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Marcus was surprised when bread was laid at his table along with the ale. He might be looking worse than he thought... but was very grateful anyway, and started eating while talked with the dwarf.

"Thanks a lot, Odin Thunderbrew, and pleased to meet you. My name is Marcus Arthai, from the Cinder Knights of the City of Eternal Ash." he started, proudly " Yeah, I've been quite unlucky in this land up to now. Seems your people is in need of other kinds of Templars right now." he pointed at the Dwarf Paladin. "So I've found myself lacking an occupation." by than he had finished eating and was dinking the ale happily "Damn that ale is good, thank you. After this I'm a happier man for sure!" he laughed and tapped Odin's shoulder, a broad smile at his face.

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Odin laughed a hearty laugh "No problem my boy, you say you are a Cinder Knight, eh? You by chance know that gentleman over there?" he said pointing at the Elf he was just talking too. "Not everyday we get 2 Cinder Knights passing through."

Edited by Hukuna
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Marcus looked on the direction that Odin pointed and, indeed, the elf sitting there wore armor and blade from his Order.

"What the... No, I don't know him!" he said, amazed by the coincidence. Could it be that he wasn't the only one fool enough to come to this damned island? Or maybe there was really something good in there?

"Well, I guess I'll go talk to him as soon as I finish this mug here. As you said, an encounter like this can't pass unnoticed!"

Edited by Notus
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The elven thief leaned back in the chair, casually taking in the chaos of the tavern. She spotted several potential marks by the bar, all male and all inebriated, but she decided against making a move. These people were poor enough without her added contributions.

Spinning her dagger in her left hand, she took another sip of her ale, then reconsidered and drained the mug. Raising the knife, she pricked her right index finger and signed off in blood on the notebook she had decided to use as a journal.

Stowing away the notebook in her satchel, she looked up just in time to see a Dwarven paladin walking into the tavern. Wearing a fine suit of armor, his very appearance exuded the pressure of wealth. An ex llent mark. Jeneve sat up and watched the dwarf attentively, watching how he moved, trying to locate his coin purse.

As she watched, the dwarf walked up to one of the crowd standing by the bar. She watched as he was embraced and heard the announcement that his father - brother to the tavernkeep - wished to offer a free drink to all in the bar.

As the dwarf moved from table to table, handing out drinks and making conversation, Jeneve observed a pouch of coins hanging loosely from the side of his belt. Smiling, she waited for the dwarf to come to her.

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Odin saw a lovely Elf Maiden at the next table he was bringing a drink too. He sat down across from her as he slid her a drink. "And what brings you to the Shadowed Isles Lass? Someone as pretty as you best be careful round these parts. Though judging by your get up, I am sure you can handle yourself." He paused for a bit as he blushed with a bit of embarrassment, he hoped he didn't offend the lady with that comment. "The name is Odin Thunderbrew, nice to meet you." he said as he reached a hand across the table. His ember eyes burned with the passion of the night.

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Jeneve smiled at the dwarf's flustered visage. She took his hand.

"Hi. I'm Jeneve Fahren. Nice to meet you. No offence taken, I often do find myself feeling rather afraid in these dark streets."

As she held his eyes with her own heterochromic gaze, she casually reached out her leg under the table and unhooked the loose pouch by the dwarf's side, using her foot to guide it into her lap.

"As for why I'm wandering through here; various reasons: making friends, travelling the land," She released the dwarf's hand and covertly pocketed the newly-acquired pouch of coins. "Finding work."

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Nero crossed his arms, looking out past the collar of his long black coat as he leaned against the wall. He wrinkled his nose. The air smelled of fish and sweat. "Disgusting," he thought.

He hadn't taken a seat, preferring to watch from the corner walls for the person he was looking for. He'd been here an hour, but there was still no sign of them.

"Another trip wasted," he mused, pushing himself off of the wall. He was just about to leave when a dwarf walked in. The first thing Nero noticed about him was his armor. This was no fisherman. The bartender rushed over and embraced the newcomer in a firm hug, lifting him off the ground.

"Must be his father..." Nero muttered, leaning back against the wall in the corner and crossing his arms once more. He decided to watch a while more and see what this was about. He brushed his silver hair to the sides as he observed the event.

Edited by Flux
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A hooded figure stood by the tavern door in a dark cloak that seemed to blend in with the shadows of the dimly lit tavern.

Helzebeth had her head hung low, making it even more difficult for anybody who would even notice her to make anything out of her face. She'd entered the tavern hoping for some warmth, as she wasn't too accustomed to cold climates, and for some silence. Tonight, yes, she had had some warmth by standing by the roaring fireplace a little bit earlier, but the place was full of adventurers, merchants, and fishermen of all sorts, all hooting about some sort of successful catch.

It was too reminiscent of the villages back on the Shattered Hills for her-- she never was fond of... Well, people, in general.

As soon as she'd turned to leave, however, the door flung open and in walked a dwarf, only to be met by somebody who appeared to be his proud father.

... Father.

Helzebeth read the signs and braced herself for the whooping cheer that was bound to follow-- and had to resist clamping her pointed ears underneath the hood with her hands.

Soon, the dwarf father began moving around the tavern, passing out drinks and such to the other patrons, some of whom she'd observed to be foreigners just like her. Some of them were elves, she'd noticed, and other folk, she had to think for a bit before recognizing their kind.

After a while, she grew weary of observing the tavern, and once more turned to leave.

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Odin scoffed "Work must be hard to come by for someone of our talents, eh?" he said with a bit of blush in his face. He pulled a pouch out of a small pocket from the inside of his shirt. "This are where me actual coins be Miss, that other pouch is just a defense against other thieves. Full of a lot of noisy bits, to be just convincing enough , you know?" He laughed. Reading people was Odin's game, and he was stupidly good at it. It was what his job in the bar was in the first place. While his Brother was good at keeping the ledgers and upkeep side of things, Odin was a master at the people side of business. He knew how to make a good deal, get people to think they also got one. Spending a few nights as a bartender never hurt, gave him all the practice he needed. "Well Miss Jeneve, was nice meeting ya, but you haven't got one on Ol'Odin yet, maybe someday though. Though I would prefer if you needed money ya just asked." With this he began to walk away, tossing the small pouch of coins the lovely Elf's way.

Odin next began towards another rather interesting fellow. He had silvery hair, which wasn't all that common for people around these parts. Odin figured he was another adventurer, there had been quite a boom of them around here these days. Odin sat down across from the man, and passed him a big mug of Thunderbrew Ale "Greetings friend, I am Odin Thunderbrew, what brings ya to The Drunken Clam tonight?" he said extending his hand outward for a friendly shake.

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Sigurd had barely taken a seat at an empty table, when a Dwarf Paladin entered the tavern. The Dwarf was greeted by his father who offered everyone free Ale. The young Templar smiled, removed his grey cloak and laid his swords next to him thinking he came to the right place. He was looking for an adventure and according to the older Templars you could easily find one if you enter a tavern and listened to the stories. So that’s what Sigurd did. Or rather tried to do. The Shadowed Isle sounded like a place full of mysteries to him, but up until now he was disappointed. Hunger and a hard daily life was all he could see. Of course his own youth wasn’t exactly easy with the harsh winters; he was under the impression that life around here was much harder. Or maybe he wasn’t used to it anymore since his days in the Temple.

While the Dwarf came closer to his table, talking to other travelers, Sigurd noticed how warm it was. He grew up in cold climates and got used to it. He preferred colder temperatures with a nice breeze since the wind is a gift from the Goddess Aelia, blessing warriors and adventurers alike. Sigurd stood up and relocated his table a bit so he faced the door. He waited for the Dwarf to arrive, while trying to catch a cool breeze.

Edited by Chimchain
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Nero grimaced as the dwarf approached him. He hadn't planned to make contact with anyone, but he couldn't leave now without causing a minor scene. The dwarf took a seat at the table in the corner where Nero had been standing. He produced a mug of ale, pushing towards Nero while extending a hand.

"Greetings friend, I am Odin Thunderbrew, what brings ya to The Drunken Clam tonight?"

Nero looked at the outstretched hand, making no movement to shake it. He didn't have the kind of trust in people that others could seem to draw on at a whim. Not after everything that had happened to him. He took a small sip of the ale before answering the dwarf, more to be respectful of the man's offer than because he actually wanted it. As he swallowed, a slight frown appeared at the corner of his mouth. He was reminded why he didn't drink hard ales; wine was much more preferrable. He pushed the mug to the side and responded to the dwarf's question.

"I was hoping to... meet someone here," he began, scanning the room once more. "Unfortunately, they don't seem to be here."

He wasn't sure why he'd thought they'd actually be here, or why he himself had come in the first place. How cruel fate could be... the son of a noble familiy finding himself in a dank, sweaty tavern. The idea itself was laughable. He turned back to the dwarf, a melancholy smile visible on the corner of his mouth.

"Perhaps I'm here due to more than a few unkind twists of fate. The only kind available these days." He waved a hand.

"Go on, see to your other guests. You'll only find despair in this one."

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