I pm'ed you the link.
Edit: I made a few changes, hope you don't mind.
And I noticed there are a few Witcher fans here. Did any of you get a chance to catch the gameplay reveals?
Edit 2: Darkmatter, are you going to continue the collab, or should I just post it?
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@Darkmatter: I'll post something in a pad or whatever. Do you have something like that?
I've already written something.
I've already written something.
"Sally" lol
I'd do a collab with just about anyone now. I could write about just my two characters again, but I want a break from that. People tend to slip away and disappear from threads. I hope tigre, zran, sicarius and melonhead are still around.
I'd do a collab with just about anyone now. I could write about just my two characters again, but I want a break from that. People tend to slip away and disappear from threads. I hope tigre, zran, sicarius and melonhead are still around.
Don't do it if your heart's not in it.
There will be time if we just keep things moving and let the stories make themselves.
There will be time if we just keep things moving and let the stories make themselves.
I'm cool with other people going to the same tavern as the one my characters ended up in.
Are we missing Jovalyn's player?
Darkmatter said
Only a few hundred actual soldiers worth speaking of but it has been bolstered considerable with nearly a thousand militiamen, mostly privately funded, since the raids from the mountains. Total population is around 12,000. It's a very large town.
What kind of raids? Humanoid races of bandits, or something more feral?
And my characters are up for collabing in the tavern, though I don't really have any ideas for a collab.
The smell of fresh air slowly blended in with that of a town-side crowd as the party drew into Iron's End. It was mostly a lazy day, the sun was beginning to sink its way onto the horizon. The party began dispersing, and Ulfar was already planning on visiting the local blacksmith for supplies. He'd been to Iron's End before. Being an establishment of mostly dwarves, the smithy here was both fair in its prices and sacrificed very little in terms of quality. One came to respect such things in a life of the sell-sword.
"A town..." Eila was muttering to herself. She had stopped and was fixated on a group of children playing about on the street. Next to them was an elderly woman, pre-occupied with knitting. Occasionally, the woman told the children to behave. Eila seemed absorbed in watching them.
"We have to get some supplies." Ulfar said. He began walking, and expected the girl to follow, but she stayed where she was. Her unpredictability was frustrating, but he was beginning to adapt to it.
"We don't have all day." Ulfar pulled her by the arm. She stumbled a bit, but began following him. They walked through the town, and Eila's eyes were floating around the whole time. There was a local butcher, who was chopping away at a large chunk of meat -
Eila bumped into an angry merchant.
"Hey, watch it!" The man growled in return, but turned to go about his own business.
The man with the greatsword was nearby. He was speaking with a dwarf, who was apparently the owner of the local smithy. The shop was out-doors, right in the middle of a large intersection on the street. The smithy itself had a warehouse next to it.
"Throwin' knives? We got a few." The owner was saying, while his two apprentices kept busy striking away at their anvils.
The dwarf went back to fetch one of the crates, and brought out balanced-looking daggers. They were smaller than usual knives, as throwing knives tended to be. Ulfar tested each one by holding them in his hand. Most of them had the right amount of weight and feel to them, but he would only buy two for now. He already had two knives from before on his belt, and his belt only had enough notches for three. He attached one of the newer ones, and tossed the other one into the bag of Eila's books.
"Need anythin' else, lad?" The dwarf asked. He didn't grin or put on a false air of pretentiousness. He seemed like the busy, down-to-business type. Most of the town had the same attitude.
"Yeah." Ulfar said. The last time he had come to Iron's End was roughly three years ago. "How's the militia around here?"
The dwarf raised an eyebrow.
"We're doin' fine." The dwarf said, crossing his thick, hairy arms. "As a matter of fact, I'm in the militia myself."
"Last time I came here," Ulfar began. " I remember there wasn't much of a standing army in Iron's End. That still the case?"
"Aye. We've got honest, hard workin' folk who volunteered to protect their wives and kids. And it has kept things under control around here."
"Any work for a sellsword?" Ulfar asked. The dwarf paused, as if he was considering what he was about to share.
"Raiders come down from the mountains every few months." The dwarf eventually said. His tone dropped to a morbid one. "We hold our own, but we lose some good men each time. We could use the help, and we've got fair coin."
"I'll keep that in mind." Ulfar said. The owner nodded as the swordsman left his out-door shop.
Eila was sitting on a barrel nearby, concentrating on two women who were arguing. She stood up and followed Ulfar when he was done.
"I noticed you put your fourth knife into my backpack." Eila noted. "Does your belt only carry three?"
"What's it to you?" Ulfar asked, although he was more concentrated on finding the inn. His memory had not kept the exact location of it.
"I would prefer it if you did not put such objects into my backpack, at least not without wrapping them in something soft so that they would not harm other objects surrounding them." Eila began in her boring, slow tone, but Ulfar had long stopped paying attention. "And it seems obvious that you would prefer to have four knives on your belt, instead of three. If you would like, I could modify your belt with the help of a few books and materials from a craftsmen shop. A town this big must have one. "
"There it is." Ulfar had found the tavern. "Come on, I'm starving."
"A town..." Eila was muttering to herself. She had stopped and was fixated on a group of children playing about on the street. Next to them was an elderly woman, pre-occupied with knitting. Occasionally, the woman told the children to behave. Eila seemed absorbed in watching them.
"We have to get some supplies." Ulfar said. He began walking, and expected the girl to follow, but she stayed where she was. Her unpredictability was frustrating, but he was beginning to adapt to it.
"We don't have all day." Ulfar pulled her by the arm. She stumbled a bit, but began following him. They walked through the town, and Eila's eyes were floating around the whole time. There was a local butcher, who was chopping away at a large chunk of meat -
Eila bumped into an angry merchant.
"Hey, watch it!" The man growled in return, but turned to go about his own business.
The man with the greatsword was nearby. He was speaking with a dwarf, who was apparently the owner of the local smithy. The shop was out-doors, right in the middle of a large intersection on the street. The smithy itself had a warehouse next to it.
"Throwin' knives? We got a few." The owner was saying, while his two apprentices kept busy striking away at their anvils.
The dwarf went back to fetch one of the crates, and brought out balanced-looking daggers. They were smaller than usual knives, as throwing knives tended to be. Ulfar tested each one by holding them in his hand. Most of them had the right amount of weight and feel to them, but he would only buy two for now. He already had two knives from before on his belt, and his belt only had enough notches for three. He attached one of the newer ones, and tossed the other one into the bag of Eila's books.
"Need anythin' else, lad?" The dwarf asked. He didn't grin or put on a false air of pretentiousness. He seemed like the busy, down-to-business type. Most of the town had the same attitude.
"Yeah." Ulfar said. The last time he had come to Iron's End was roughly three years ago. "How's the militia around here?"
The dwarf raised an eyebrow.
"We're doin' fine." The dwarf said, crossing his thick, hairy arms. "As a matter of fact, I'm in the militia myself."
"Last time I came here," Ulfar began. " I remember there wasn't much of a standing army in Iron's End. That still the case?"
"Aye. We've got honest, hard workin' folk who volunteered to protect their wives and kids. And it has kept things under control around here."
"Any work for a sellsword?" Ulfar asked. The dwarf paused, as if he was considering what he was about to share.
"Raiders come down from the mountains every few months." The dwarf eventually said. His tone dropped to a morbid one. "We hold our own, but we lose some good men each time. We could use the help, and we've got fair coin."
"I'll keep that in mind." Ulfar said. The owner nodded as the swordsman left his out-door shop.
Eila was sitting on a barrel nearby, concentrating on two women who were arguing. She stood up and followed Ulfar when he was done.
"I noticed you put your fourth knife into my backpack." Eila noted. "Does your belt only carry three?"
"What's it to you?" Ulfar asked, although he was more concentrated on finding the inn. His memory had not kept the exact location of it.
"I would prefer it if you did not put such objects into my backpack, at least not without wrapping them in something soft so that they would not harm other objects surrounding them." Eila began in her boring, slow tone, but Ulfar had long stopped paying attention. "And it seems obvious that you would prefer to have four knives on your belt, instead of three. If you would like, I could modify your belt with the help of a few books and materials from a craftsmen shop. A town this big must have one. "
"There it is." Ulfar had found the tavern. "Come on, I'm starving."
What kind of militia or military does Iron's End have?
Unless something big happens, my characters will be buying supplies for now.
If this town worshiped one of the gods, which one would it be?
If this town worshiped one of the gods, which one would it be?
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