Text DnD

[Mktavish]

I will be your DM if you choose to adventure here.

 

You've come a long way over mountains that were more craggy than should have been. And Forests that were more foresty than should have been.

And lakes that were more wet than should have been.

To find a town on the edge of a plane that is Not so plain.

In the town is a tavern that is lively but has an odd feeling about it.

In this tavern you meet your fellow adventurers.

 

Step forth and list Ye names , talents , and weapons at hand .

 

Heroic people will of course will be raptured into Heaven .

Due to heaven being a place that needs heroes .

 

In this world we need people that live by wits ... some strength helps , and magic too , because the world is full of it.

 

It's a case of I post what's going on , then ya'll are given a chance to respond.

Then I respond to your responses and describe as necessary for the moment to moment.

 

Which it is a forum ... so it is going to be slow ~

But as the DM ... I will give it a priority attention.

Also , it's not like another DM couldn't take over at times.

 

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Spot reserved for updates

[Striker879]

Striker the Often-Overestimated steps through the door and enters the Inn. Twigs stick from his disheveled grey hair, courtesy of the dense forest that barred his way, and his rough leather boots are rougher for the wear they received surmounting the mountain's crags. At least he no longer carried the stink of the journey here ... the frigid waters of the lake took care of that as attested by the drops still dripping from his cloak.

 

He glances around the dim interior, but only a surly figure behind the bar catches his eye. As Striker cautiously approaches he adjusts the hilt of his dagger hidden under the folds of his cloak, and casts his mind onto a paralyzing spell so that it is at the ready for the chance a hasty retreat is in order. The Inn is unfamiliar, and unfamiliar can lead in different directions in Striker's experience. Utilizing his most disarming smile and gesturing around the room Striker asks ...

 

"Would you by any chance know of the whereabouts of a certain Dungeon Master my good man ... I believe he goes by the handle Mk? He's the one with the dice."

Edited September 12, 2020 by Striker879

[Mktavish]

As an old leathery bag gets pulled out of the bartenders pocket. He looks at you like your request is Cr@zy !

Then plops it on the bar top (which sounds like it's full of dice) and says ...

"Would you like to roll for a free drink ? " ... " Can you pay the toll if you lose ?"

The drinks are good mind you ... something worth risking something .

[Striker879]

Striker's interest is piqued by the offer of a drink, but the undefined toll gives pause. A drink after a long journey can be as dangerous as a dart from a dark corner.

 

"Would one of drinks be named after a young lady ... I believe her name was Shirley something? Charming little lass, smile brighter than a noon day's sun on a cloudless day."

 

After the briefest pause he said "A single roll, and then some bed after a long long day, filled with tangles and treading and more than a little stroking".

 

 

 

How have you been MK ... I was beginning to think a strong wind had carried you away or you had been swept out to sea!