Season 1 - Chapter 1 -- A Port in Every Storm

TheDude2371 · May 1

Location: Port Torvin, Hold of the Sea Princes

Two days ago, you were all roaming the streets of Port Torvin. Work, as of late, has been lax, and your funds have been dwindling over the past few weeks. You think to yourself with every coin taken from your purse, "If I don't get some work soon, I'll become one of those beggars in the streets, scraping for scraps."
However, word reaches your ears, whether through a notice on the community board or a messenger looking for you in particular, that the high priest of the temple devoted to Procan, the lord of oceans, is in need of experienced adventurers for a job opportunity. Curious, you take up the offer to at least listen to what's needed. You straighten and neaten yourselves up, put on your best airs, and march off to the temple.

GM:

From here, you can set yourself up with how you arrived at Port Torvin. If you've been here already, describe where you were and what you were doing when the word reached your ear.

codexgigas · May 2

MinervaThumbnail.png.09bb455785a3adf16497310d6d7fa16d.png

MINERVA HECATE WITCH 1

HP: 16/16 | AC: 16 | Perception: +4

Fort: +5 | Ref: +5 | Will: +6

ResourcesFocus Points 1/1 | Spells PreparedCANTRIPS
Electric Arc
Light
Mage Hand
Needle Darts
Shield

1ST LEVEL
Fear
Summon Animal

HEXES
Discern Secrets (Hex Cantrip)
Phase Familiar | SkillsAcrobatics +5 🅣
Arcana +7 🅣
Athletics +0
Crafting +7 🅣
Deception +0
Diplomacy +0
Intimidation +3 🅣
Lore: Academia +7 🅣
Medicine +0
Nature +4 🅣
Occultism +7 🅣
Performance +0
Religion +4 🅣
Society +7 🅣
Stealth +5 🅣
Survival +0
Thievery +0 | FamiliarPerception +5
Speed 25 feet
HP 5/5
AC 15
Fortitude +5
Reflex +5
Will +6

Familiar Ability: Fly
Familiar Ability: Speech
Master Ability: Share Senses| Summon Stats (Empty)Content...

The human woman in the red cloak moves slowly through the streets of Port Torvin, watching carefully where she puts her feet. Yesterday, she'd carelessly stepped in a puddle of what she hoped was water, and the stain was still visible on the hem of her cloak. As she walks, a gust of wind blows her cloak open, revealing steel-gray robes beneath, belted with a thin chain of gold links. The grim expression on her face says she is not to be trifled with.

Minerva had not intended to be in Port Torvin to begin with, much less to remain here for as long as she had. She'd intended this to be a short stop on a longer journey. She'd bought passage on a ship, which was supposed to only dock here for one night on its journey across the Azure Sea. She'd been on the hunt for a long, lost manuscript, which described some... thing which dwelt beyond the stars. She'd combed libraries for years, searching for clues, only to finally find the hint that might actually lead her to the prize. Her hands clench as she rues her decision to spend one night sleeping in a bed that stayed still. It turns out the sailors were smugglers, and there had been a dispute with either customs agents or the local thieves' guild--Minerva had been unable to determine which, which might suggest they the two groups were one and the same--which resulted in the smugglers leaving port in the dead of night.

That had been a week ago, and now Minerva finds herself without enough funds to pay for passage out of Port Torvin to somewhere civilized. What she would give for access to a decent library! As she stalks through the streets, a large white owl flies down and lands on her shoulder. Minerva bends her head near it, whispering, "Yes, I know, Hecuba. It is a paying job. Yes, it is the only lead we have on something to replenish our funds. But, it is temple work." She says this with special distaste evident in her voice. "Temple work always comes with strings attached and rules to be followed. Yes, temples do tend to pay promptly, Hecuba. But it's a sea god! Not even a proper deity like Wee Jas or even Boccob! I would have something to talk about with a cleric of Wee Jas. What am I to discuss with a cleric of Procan? Fish?" Minerva makes a dismissive snort. Yet her walk takes her ever and ever closer to the temple.

When she arrives, she is in a foul mood. She snaps at the acolyte who greets her at the door. "I am Minerva Hecate, practitioner of the arcane arts. I have come in response to the request for adventurers."

This had better be worth it, she thinks to herself. Still, if Hecuba wants her to take the job, she should listen. The few times she has ignored her familiar have provoked her patron's ire. She has learned to listen when the familiar speaks, as it is often her patron's will.

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Zen Gypsy · May 2

Enoch Hawkmoor, Spear of St. Cuthbert

AC: 18 | HIT POINTS: 18 | CURRENT: 18 | HERO POINTS: 1

FORTITUDE: +3 | REFLEX: +9 | WILL: +6 | PERCEPTION: +6

ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.

CONDITIONS: None.

When Enoch Hawkmoor first set foot in Port Torvin, the sharp scent of salt and fish assaulted his senses, mingling with the less savory odors of a bustling port town. His arrival was not heralded by fanfare or recognition; instead, it was marked by the subtle nod of a dockworker and the indifferent glances of hurried sailors. The city was a tangled web of commerce and corruption, a far cry from the noble courts of Furyondy where he was raised.

His first days were spent gathering information, his innate mistrust of authority sharpened by the whispers of street urchins and the secretive glances of the townsfolk. He learned of the missing orphans, tales that pulled at his sense of justice. Driven by his own sense of duty, he prowled the darker corners of Port Torvin, tracing the children's fate to a grim discovery—they were being press-ganged into service by unscrupulous sailors under a corrupt dockmaster's command.

Determined to end this exploitation, Enoch confronted the sailors at the docks. His blade flashed in the dim light of the evening, a beacon of his unwavering resolve. The clash was brutal and swift; sailors found themselves outmatched but not before they called for reinforcements. The dockmaster, a pudgy man with a crooked nose and a crookeder sense of morality, arrived flanked by his personal guards. The altercation escalated, and though Enoch fought valiantly, the numbers overwhelmed him.

Bruised and battered, Enoch was dragged to the local jailhouse, a dank, stone building that reeked of mold and despair. The cell he was thrown into was small, cramped, and cold. The iron bars were rusted, the stone walls seeped with moisture, and the straw on the floor was musty. Yet, even in such dire circumstances, Enoch's resolve did not waver. He spent a restless night, his mind racing through plans of redemption and thoughts of the innocent children forced into servitude.

The guards, a mixture of wary veterans and indifferent conscripts, kept a cautious eye on him. They had heard tales of his combat prowess, exaggerated by each retelling. One young guard, curious more than cautious, struck up a conversation. Enoch, ever the tactician, used the opportunity to glean more information about the dockmaster's operations and the guard's own views on the corruption gnawing at the city's underbelly.

Come morning, Enoch was released—his actions deemed more heroic than criminal, thanks to the intervention of a few locals he had helped since arriving in town. His possessions, though slightly tampered, were returned, but most of his coin was missing. Stepping out into the bright light of dawn, Enoch felt the weight of his temporary defeat, yet the fire within him burned brighter, fueled by injustice and the need for redemption. He gathered his belongings, his armor clinking with each movement, a reminder of the battles fought and those yet to come. As he walked through the streets, heading towards the temple of Procan, his mind was a whirl of plans and possibilities.

Minerva was deeply engaged in her reluctant conversation with Hecuba, her tone laced with irritation and resignation, when the temple door creaked open once more. Enoch Hawkmoor stepped in, his arrival marked by the muted echo of his heavy boots against the aged stone floor of the temple. He paused just inside the entrance, catching snippets of Minerva's dialogue with her familiar.

As she complained about the indignity of having to deal with a temple of Procan, Enoch couldn’t help but overhear her lament over the lesser significance of a sea god. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly; the diverse pantheons of gods, both minor and major, had always been a peripheral concern in his life—useful when needed, but not a driving force.

His appearance was noticeably rough—a stark contrast to her meticulous, though stained, red cloak. His armor bore the dents and scratches of recent skirmishes, and his face showed signs of a man who had spent a night less in bed and more in brawl. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, there was an earnestness in his approach, a deliberate respectfulness that balanced his rugged exterior.

He cleared his throat softly, announcing his presence before he came too close, not wanting to startle her or seem as though he was eavesdropping intentionally. “Pardon the interruption,” Enoch began, his voice a raspy contrast to her crisp tones. "I couldn’t help but overhear a bit about your predicament." He stepped into the light filtering through the stained glass, which painted his face in vibrant, if not somewhat jarring, colors.

“I’m Enoch Hawkmoor,” he continued, extending a hand in greeting, rough but firm. “Seems we might be in similar straits, searching for passage out of circumstances rather than Port Torvin itself. If you're inclined, perhaps we could pool our resources. Temple work might not be the loftiest of endeavors, but it often pays in more ways than coin.”

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Edited May 2 by Zen Gypsy (see edit history)

GleefulNihilism · May 2

image.jpeg.b307cbbfe92b4b9e0d53c8d2d8240c1f.jpeg

BOZ ROGUE 1

HP: 18/18 | AC: 18 | Perception: +5, Low-Light

Fort: +5 | Ref: +9 | Will: +5

Racket - Thief | Spells PreparedDetect Magic at Will | Skills | Sneak Attack| Extra Space HereForeshadowing

Well, he liked it here. He could see his career requiring him to head somewhere larger at one point, but for now Port Torvin was home. Port Torvin was home and the Guild was Family. A few days ago he was running a bit short on funds, sure - but what does someone like him do when he's short on funds? Goes out and Steals some, of course.

Oh, don't look like that. Port Torvin's local Thieves Guild was right respectable, it was. This wasn't random crime and cruelty for no reason, this was thieves using their heads and bein' organized about this. You know when the last time was that the Guild killed someone for somethin' other then Self-Defense? Honest question, if it's ever happened Boz didn't know about it either. Professionals, have Standards. Rules. Do this nice and proper, aye?

Boz has that hungry look in his eyes of someone that's had to work, or steal, for everything he's had in life. He keeps his eyes open, his knives sharp, and his mind racing just to survive and it kind of shows. Tends for darker clothing with hoods and often walks on the balls of his feet just out of habit. A bit on the short side with short hair, but also a bit on the handsome side so it kind of evens out. His face always has a smirk on it like he's on the inside of a joke nobody else was. Maybe he was. Seemed that way sometimes.

And the night Boz heard of the job, he was in the middle of another one. Not alone, always best to at least work a job in a pair. Someone can keep on the detail work while someone else keeps eyes open. The dark of night never did bother him too much, there was a joke that he had some Catfolk blood in him but Boz knew the truth. Yeah, he did have something special in his eyes and in his blood - but that's not what was it.

"Hold on, bruv. Something wrong with the Lock."

The day Boz realized that he could naturally see Magic when most others couldn't was an interesting one. And he hasn't told many people about it sense. Magic door lock. Not by a lot. Could just make an alarm noise if someone messes with it without the key, maybe it's just harder to pick. Something like that. Either way, Boz goes for going around the side. The front door lock had a spell on it maybe but not the employee entrance. That was a harder pick, but it worked.

The job news came from when they fenced the prizes. Of course, thieves talk among themselves. He couldn't think of any particularly good scores on the horizon so it didn't seem like checking out the temple work wouldn't do any harm. Now, just to keep stories straight - maybe they don't advertize that they're Thieves, especially from the Guild. Aye?

"'Allo. Jus' call me Boz, his name is Nico. Say 'Allo, Nico. We're Acrobats. Rough times at the Carnival circuit." he gives. It's probably not a great story but it might be good enough for now.

"Hear the God of Fish might have a job, aye?"

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Eagleheart · May 2

Liam

HP: 18/18
AC: 18

Perception +5
Fort +7
Ref +6
Will +5

Liam was born and raised here. Some would say he is an unfortunate soul, but he's never seen it that way. Despite being sheltered by his family, he has always understood this city in an odd, intuitive way - and now that he's no longer sheltered, he has adapted to his new lifestyle quite well. There was an... adjustment periodfeel free to imagine several brief flashbacks of Liam getting conned, mugged, etc., but now, things are looking up.

The young swordsman wears an air of confidence as he strides into Procan's temple and bows his head to those who are already gathered. "Greetings, my name is Liam."

Harding · May 2

Razig Al'Jabar

HP: 20/20 | Saves: Fort 7, Ref 5, Will 6 | AC: 15 | Perception: +4 | Speed: 25 | Attack: +6 (unarmed) | SkillsAcrobatics +0 • Untrained 0 • Dex 0 • Item 0
Arcana +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Athletics +6 • Trained 3 • Str 3 • Item 0 • Armor -0
Crafting +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Deception +0 • Untrained • Cha 0 • Item 0
Diplomacy +0 • Untrained 0 • Cha 0 • Item 0
Intimidation +0 • Untrained 0 • Cha 0 • Item 0
Lore: Zuoken +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Lore: Desert +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Medicine +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Nature +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Occultism +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Performance +0 • Untrained 0 • Cha 0 • Item 0
Religion +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Society +4 • Untrained 0 • Int 3 • Item 0
Stealth +0 • Untrained 0 • Dex 0 • Item 0 • Armor -0
Survival +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Thievery +0 • Untrained 0 • Dex 0 • Item 0

Languages: Common, Baklunish, Sueloise, Flan

Storytelling

Razig Al'Jabar's journey to Port Torvin commenced two days prior aboard a vessel steered by a Baklunish merchant whose incessant inquiries bordered on intrusive. Despite the merchant's persistent prying, Razig found solace in the steady rhythm of the sea, his thoughts drifting to the arid expanses of his desert upbringing and the unwavering pursuit of justice that now consumed him.

During the voyage, Razig maintained a solitary demeanor, immersing himself in quiet meditation and honing his martial prowess, envisioning each strike as a calculated act of retribution against his mentor's murderer. His quest transcended mere vengeance; it was a solemn duty to restore balance and administer justice in the face of cruelty. The ship's journey unfolded without incident, save for the occasional glimpse of distant shores and the whispering serenade of the wind through the sails.

Upon docking in Port Torvin, Razig disembarked with a resolute purpose, his gaze sweeping over the bustling harbor and labyrinthine streets that sprawled before him. The salty tang of the sea mingled with the cacophony of voices, each clamoring for attention amidst the vibrant tapestry of the port city. As he delved deeper into the heart of Port Torvin, Razig observed the diverse tapestry of life—merchants bartering wares, sailors repairing sails, and beggars seeking solace in the shadows. Though far from the arid sands of his homeland, Razig felt a silent kinship with the resilience of those who called Port Torvin home.

Two days elapsed in a whirlwind of exploration and introspection, as Razig acquainted himself with the ebb and flow of city life and pursued leads regarding his master's assailant. Along the way, he encountered unexpected trials, such as a deft pickpocket relieving him of his coin purse—a reminder of the harsh realities of urban existence. Though wealth held little sway over his aspirations, Razig recognized the necessity of securing employment to sustain himself in this bustling metropolis.

Rumors of the high priest's call for experienced adventurers reached Razig's ears, prompting him to set aside his personal vendetta momentarily in favor of the promise of gainful employment. With measured steps, he made his way towards the temple, his heart echoing the rhythm of the waves crashing against the shore. As he approached the temple's hallowed threshold, Razig beheld a motley assembly of individuals already gathered—a human woman cloaked in crimson, a rugged swordsman exuding quiet confidence, and a pair of acrobats spinning tales with practiced charm. Each bore the weight of their own burdens, their paths converging in this pivotal moment of shared purpose.

With a respectful nod to those assembled, Razig stepped forward, his presence a testament to the solemnity of his resolve. While his interactions with the outside world had been limited as a recluse monk, his master's teachings in etiquette and demeanor now served him well. "Greetings fellow seekers," he began, his voice imbued with a calm authority. "I am Razig Al'Jabar, humble adventurer and Fist of Zuoken from the Caliphate of Ekbir. It seems fate has brought us together on this day. Let us heed the summons of the high priest of Procan, and perhaps destiny will find us united in a worthy cause." He then briefly bowed humbly and politely to them.

Edited May 2 by Harding (see edit history)

codexgigas · May 3

MINERVA HECATE WITCH 1

HP: 16/16 | AC: 16 | Perception: +4

Fort: +5 | Ref: +5 | Will: +6

ResourcesFocus Points 1/1 | Spells PreparedCANTRIPS
Electric Arc
Light
Mage Hand
Needle Darts
Shield

1ST LEVEL
Fear
Summon Animal

HEXES
Discern Secrets (Hex Cantrip)
Phase Familiar | SkillsAcrobatics +5 🅣
Arcana +7 🅣
Athletics +0
Crafting +7 🅣
Deception +0
Diplomacy +0
Intimidation +3 🅣
Lore: Academia +7 🅣
Medicine +0
Nature +4 🅣
Occultism +7 🅣
Performance +0
Religion +4 🅣
Society +7 🅣
Stealth +5 🅣
Survival +0
Thievery +0 | FamiliarPerception +5
Speed 25 feet
HP 5/5
AC 15
Fortitude +5
Reflex +5
Will +6

Familiar Ability: Fly
Familiar Ability: Speech
Master Ability: Share Senses| Summon Stats (Empty)Content...

Minerva gently extends an elegant hand to Enoch. "Minerva Hecate," she says. "I'm sure temple work has ample rewards. One of Procan's favorites is failing to sink your ship. I suppose I should be grateful for such blessings, but I'm sure you'll understand if I'm less than enthusiastic about them. Still, one can't be too picky about paying work, I suppose." She gives Enoch a long, considering look, eyeing his rough appearance. Well, he certainly looks like he's seen a fight or two, she thinks. I hope he was on the winning side.

Minerva nods in greeting at each of the new arrivals. She says little, but she does emit an audible groan with Boz mentions the carnival circuit. First fish, and now we're dealing with circus performers. What new lows will this day bring now? she thinks. Still, she says nothing.

When Razig arrives and introduces himself, Minerva takes notice. "You've traveled far from the Caliphate," she observes. "Tell me, what is your land like? I have long desired to visit, but I have never been able to secure passage. I hear your libraries contain works found nowhere else."

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Harding · May 3

Razig Al'Jabar

HP: 20/20 | Saves: Fort 7, Ref 5, Will 6 | AC: 15 | Perception: +4 | Speed: 25 | Attack: +6 (unarmed) | SkillsAcrobatics +0 • Untrained 0 • Dex 0 • Item 0
Arcana +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Athletics +6 • Trained 3 • Str 3 • Item 0 • Armor -0
Crafting +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Deception +0 • Untrained • Cha 0 • Item 0
Diplomacy +0 • Untrained 0 • Cha 0 • Item 0
Intimidation +0 • Untrained 0 • Cha 0 • Item 0
Lore: Zuoken +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Lore: Desert +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Medicine +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Nature +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Occultism +6 • Trained 3 • Int 3 • Item 0
Performance +0 • Untrained 0 • Cha 0 • Item 0
Religion +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Society +4 • Untrained 0 • Int 3 • Item 0
Stealth +0 • Untrained 0 • Dex 0 • Item 0 • Armor -0
Survival +4 • Trained 3 • Wis 1 • Item 0
Thievery +0 • Untrained 0 • Dex 0 • Item 0

Languages: Common, Baklunish, Sueloise, Flan

Storytelling

Razig paused, his gaze shifting to the distant horizon as he considered Minerva's inquiry about his homeland. A faint smile graced his lips, a glimmer of fond remembrance in his eyes.

"The Caliphate of Ekbir," he began, his voice carrying a soft cadence that echoed the ancient whispers of the desert winds, "is a land of profound contrasts—a tapestry woven from the sands of time and the boundless expanse of the sky. Its deserts stretch endlessly beneath a canopy of stars, where silence reigns supreme save for the whispered secrets of the shifting sands and the hushed whispers of the wind. In this silence there is peace, but in the peace there is the dangers of the his cruel heat and the scarcity of sustenance."

He spoke with reverence, his words painting a vivid portrait of the desert's austere beauty and treacherous allure. "Yet, in the heart of this harsh but beautifully silent landscape, there lies a delicate balance—a dance of elements as capricious as the desert itself. On rare occasions, the wind becomes a tempest, stirring the sands into a frenzied frenzy that blinds the eye and chokes the breath. But amidst the deadly silence and occasional chaos, there are treasures to be found—lush oases that bloom with life and water, offering respite from the unforgiving embrace of the cruel elements."

Razig's expression softened, his reverence for his homeland evident in every word. "In the cities and temples of the Caliphate, one finds oases of learning and enlightenment—bastions of knowledge that illuminate the path of the seeker. Our libraries are sacred repositories of wisdom, housing tomes and manuscripts that whisper the echoes of bygone eras. Yet, it is not merely the written word that defines us, but the spirit of inquiry and discovery that permeates our culture."

He paused, his gaze returning to Minerva with a quiet intensity. "I was fortunate to have a master who imparted to me the wisdom of our Baklunish heritage—a legacy of poetry, philosophy, esotericism, and scientific inquiry. Through his guidance, I learned the patience and discipline to cultivate my mind and soul amidst the sands of enlightenment."

Turning his attention back to the present moment, Razig offered a respectful nod to Minerva. "Should fortune and understanding blossom from our encounter, Minerva Hecate, I would be honored to guide you through the hallowed halls of our libraries and share the wisdom of our scholars as soon as I'm done with the purpose of my presence in these lands. Until then, let us focus on the task at hand, for it seems fate has woven our destinies together for a purpose yet unknown."

Edited May 3 by Harding (see edit history)

Spacesong · May 5

Nico, The Nascent Rapscallion Rogue 1

HP 19 | AC 18 | Fort +6 | Ref +9 | Will +4 | Speed 25 ft.

"Speech"/Thought

Yarn

Nico had been living in Port Torvin almost his entire life. The skill and knowledge he had of the city, while easily rivaled by those older or more deft with a silver tongue, wasn't something to take lightly. He was ready to make his big debut on the stage of the thieves guild and had something of high expectations for himself to match them. Small jobs here and there with his new ally, Boz, who he had met recently through his mentor, Cullen, were going relatively well! Boz was super cool and someone Nico related to someone closer to him in age very easily. And ever one to be easily impressed, Boz could see magic! Never in his life did he think he'd get to know someone with such a gift!

The days moved on but the work wasn't making enough for either the thieves liking. Noticing a flyer on one of the job boards as they made their daily rounds of socializing and check in's, the young cat mentioned it to Boz. "I know we tend to keep things off the record, but this seems like a nice opportunity, nyeah?" With a wink and an after you gesture, he let Boz lead the way and do the talking.

It had been years since Nico last entered the temple. He recalled visiting mostly for the free food they would charitably give away to the youth in need. Once he hit a certain age, though, they would turn him away. A bit shit, that - he thought to himself. Luckily by that age he had learned how the others kept themselves fed and warm, even if that barely hit the meaning of those words. Doing his best to set his personal grievances with the church aside he followed Boz in wherein they were met with a colorful duo.

A beat up looking sad sack and a lady decked out in crimson with an entire owl resting in her shoulder. Containing his excitement over seeing a bird up close, he nods a friendly hello alongside Boz who spun up some rubbish about circus performers. On queue the young catfolk did a dramatiqué low bow. "Nico at your service m'lady and sir Hawkmoor."

As Razig wandered up to the group, the young Catfolk sat back with interest as Razig shared story of his past. "Wow! What an incredible story! Much more impressive than mine. I was just a poor kitten that grew up getting beat up and beating back on the guards and toughs around here! But you lot don't want to hear about all that. We're all here for this job Procan is offering." He sticks out of of his hands for a handshake for any of the group to take. "Pleased to meet ya! Let's see how long they make us sweat the wait... These official types love doing that..." he says with a playful gleam in his eye.

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Edited May 5 by Spacesong (see edit history)

GleefulNihilism · May 5

BOZ ROGUE 1

HP: 18/18 | AC: 18 | Perception: +5, Low-Light

Fort: +5 | Ref: +9 | Will: +5

Racket - Thief | Spells PreparedDetect Magic at Will | Skills | Sneak Attack| Extra Space HereForeshadowing

"Pretty sure the Guild won't mind, as long as we keep the code and they get their percentage - aye?" Boz had responded to that job possibility with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. Maybe there was also a little bit of naked Greed but he's a Thief. What do you expect? At least he was among his people, though whether it was Nature or Nuture that he became a Thief is obviously up for debate.

And at that meeting was a subtle bit of evidence for Nuture and that Boz's Nature should be something else. Minerva and her Owl were of course getting attention, but Boz's eyes say that he's seeing something a little different. It takes him a second to figure out what he's seeing, it was like this fog or energy was skitting between the two of then and - Oh, he's looking at a Familiar.

Stop it, before you give too much of the game away.

"And yeah, pretty much the same here. Right Tragic Upbringings, we had. Still, between that and the circus you'd be surprised the skills you pick up, aye?" he gives with a matching bow of his own.

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TheDude2371 · May 7

The temple itself is somewhat simple, set on a small peninsula jetting out into the harbor itself.
You are led into a smaller office-like room set off of the main chamber. At a modest desk sites the senior priest for the temple, leafing through papers and parchments. He waits until one of the lesser attendants ushers you all into the small room. Only then does he set the papers down, motions to the attendant and whispers in his ear. The attendant nods and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Only then does the priest speak.
"Thank you for coming," he says. "Especially on such short notice."
"One of our senior-most priests, my own mentor, recently passed on, and his remains were cremated, as per his wishes.
However, his wishes also stipulated that his remains be transported to a shrine to Procan located on a small island somewhere off the shoreline the shoreline well west of Seaton, his original station prior to assignment here."
As if on cue, the door opens, allowing a far younger priest to enter the office. The high priest nods at his appearance, and continues.
"One of the younger junior priests, Haresh, has been tasked to act as the keeper. However, the shrine is not staffed with any clergy at present, and it's been years since anyone from the temple has visited the area. As a precaution, we are calling upon the resources of outside help from adventurers, namely yourselves, to act as security for our young priest and his cargo."
"We have already arranged for your passage aboard a cargo vessel that will be making its way across this part of the Azure Sea. The island happens to be only a minor deviation from its normal course." He then opens a locked drawer to his desk, and takes out a set of pouches and a lockbox, setting them atop the papers on his desk. "I have an initial payment of ten gold each for your services. Once completed and when the ship makes dock at the first major port, Haresh here will then give you another fifteen gold to each of you." He hands the lockbox to Haresh, who then bows and is led out of the office.
The priest then stands, and hands out the initial payment pouches to everyone.
"I've also arranged for Haresh to have some extra funds to pay for supplies for your trip, as you have only passage and space onboard. They won't feed you, which may be a blessing unto itself." He chuckles at his attempt at a small joke.
With that, he then dismisses you from the office.

The attendant, who waited patiently for you outside, guides you to the main hall. "Haresh will meet you outside the Hook and Bar in the Tidewater district near the dock in two hours. From what I know, the ship is slated to leave just before sunset. Please do not be late, as these arrangements were very tough to make."

OOCGotta say, I'm loving this already.

Zen Gypsy · May 8

Enoch Hawkmoor, Spear of St. Cuthbert

AC: 18 | HIT POINTS: 18 | CURRENT: 18 | HERO POINTS: 1

FORTITUDE: +3 | REFLEX: +9 | WILL: +6 | PERCEPTION: +6

ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.

CONDITIONS: None.

Enoch's tired eyes scanned the room as the priest's words sank in. Another job, another task to add to the list of burdens he carried. He accepted the pouch of coins with a half-hearted grunt, the weight of it feeling more like an anchor dragging him down than a reward. "'Spose Procan's coin's as good as any," he muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with weary resignation.

As the group exited, Enoch lagged behind slightly, his steps heavy with exhaustion and frustration. The promise of a drink at the Hook and Bar beckoned like a beacon of solace in the storm of uncertainty that engulfed him. He longed for the comforting embrace of a mug of ale, a fleeting respite from the relentless march of duty.

As they made their way through the bustling streets of Port Torvin, Enoch's pace quickened with a newfound sense of purpose. The Hook and Bar awaited, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the city—a place where he could drown his sorrows and find solace in the company of fellow travelers on the road of life.

Approaching Liam, Enoch nodded in greeting. "Liam, is it?" he asked, his voice gruff with fatigue. "So what's your story? Surviving a city like this takes more than just a quick blade," he said with a stifled laugh. "Though it helps, I suppose."

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codexgigas · May 8

MINERVA HECATE WITCH 1

HP: 16/16 | AC: 16 | Perception: +4

Fort: +5 | Ref: +5 | Will: +6

ResourcesFocus Points 1/1 | Spells PreparedCANTRIPS
Electric Arc
Light
Mage Hand
Needle Darts
Shield

1ST LEVEL
Fear
Summon Animal

HEXES
Discern Secrets (Hex Cantrip)
Phase Familiar | SkillsAcrobatics +5 🅣
Arcana +7 🅣
Athletics +0
Crafting +7 🅣
Deception +0
Diplomacy +0
Intimidation +3 🅣
Lore: Academia +7 🅣
Medicine +0
Nature +4 🅣
Occultism +7 🅣
Performance +0
Religion +4 🅣
Society +7 🅣
Stealth +5 🅣
Survival +0
Thievery +0 | FamiliarPerception +5
Speed 25 feet
HP 5/5
AC 15
Fortitude +5
Reflex +5
Will +6

Familiar Ability: Fly
Familiar Ability: Speech
Master Ability: Share Senses| Summon Stats (Empty)Content...

Minerva nods as the senior priest produces payment. She speaks a word of command and makes an arcane gesture with her hands, causing the pouch of gold coins to float into her waiting palm. It always pays to impress the simple, she thinks to herself. The simple cantrip expends little of her arcane energies, and it offers so much more style than menial labor. The pouch of gold coins disappears into the folds of her robes.

"By the Stern Lady, I promise this task will be accomplished," she says. "May Wee Jas judge me harshly if I should fail." The oath costs her relatively little. The goddess of magic already holds Minerva's soul in her hands, at least the parts of it not sworn to the mysterious entity that grants her magical abilities. Besides, Wee Jas is already known to be a harsh judge. Still, when in a temple... she thinks to herself. As she learned from Baba Yaga, style counts for much, especially for a woman attempting to project an aura of power.

She notices the way one of the circus performers--Boz, she thinks to herself--admires Hecuba. As they walk toward the tavern, Minerva falls into step beside him. "I saw you looking," she says flatly. "If you recognize a familiar, then you're more than you seem. I dislike surprises. Why don't we dispense with the facade and be honest with each other about our identities? I am a witch, and you are more than a clown, aren't you?"

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Eagleheart · May 8

Liam

HP: 18/18
AC: 18

Perception +5
Fort +7
Ref +6
Will +5

19 hours ago, Zen Gypsy said:

"Liam, is it?" he asked, his voice gruff with fatigue. "So what's your story? Surviving a city like this takes more than just a quick blade," he said with a stifled laugh. "Though it helps, I suppose."

"Well, I have a quick blade and magic," Liam says with a little smile, "and I've learned to combine them... well, for a certain value of 'learned'. It's mostly a self-taught style."

"...but, beyond that, I think I might just be lucky," he adds with a chuckle. "Considering I went from a youth of luxury to living on the streets, I'm lucky just to be alive."

GleefulNihilism · May 9

BOZ ROGUE 1

HP: 18/18 | AC: 18 | Perception: +5, Low-Light

Fort: +5 | Ref: +9 | Will: +5

Racket - Thief | Spells PreparedDetect Magic at Will | Skills | Sneak Attack| Extra Space HereForeshadowing

Oh, not just Hecuba. When Minerva does her little trick to grab her coin bag of course everyone can watch the bag float to her hand. Boz might have been the only one that could watch the hand going out to the bag though, the invisible force looking like a hand made out of vibrant energy to him.

It, uh, might have given the game away a bit.

Still though, with the job laid out of course he has to smile as he quietly consults with Nico, his bruv-with-another-muv.

"So 25 gold and a free boatride, 10 up front, and all we have to do is *not* rob that guy? Think we can manage that. The guild will get it's cut if we go for anyone else." he gives with a chuckle. Alright, in fairness part of the job was making sure the junior priest didn't get robbed but still! Who was the most likely to rob him anyway?

As they went over to the Hook and Bar, Minerva comes over and asks him one of the big questions point blank. His first impulse? Sell the lie harder.

"Neva' said I was a Clown. I said I was an Acrobat an'..."

Right then, a wicked idea crosses Boz's brain. Pretty good one actually, he thought so at least. He looks to the sides to make sure nobody else is listening except maybe Nico.

"Alright, I'll tell *you* because as a Witch you get Moral Flexibility an' that a proper workin' relationship means havin' a little Give and Take. We can cut a Deal or two, aye?" he starts, taking a breath before he actually gets ready to tell the truth to someone outside the Family for once. Or close to it at least.

"Not an Acrobat. I'm kind of amazed none of you thought 'ay, wait a tick - when was the last time we even had a circus?' Pssh." he gives with a low chuckle.

"Nico and I weren't lying earlier. We did get the kind of education you get from the streets, aye? Jus' never used them to entertain the kiddies. Way I figure it, I'm what happens when someone who was supposed to be a Mage doesn't get their proper Academy Schoolin'. Bastard son of a Wizard or somefink' like that. I just know that I can See Magic. Always have. It's just an 8th Color on the Rainbow for me.

So what if we Favor Bank this, aye? You teach me some proper Magic, I teach you some of My skills too? Or just pay you back in Favors?"

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Season 1 - Chapter 1 -- A Port in Every Storm

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