This is a thread to allow for in-character interaction that is not tied to any other thread.

Imagine it as a nice cozy campfire where all the PCs from whenever come to talk to eachother. Breaking character/player knowledge, OOC/IC and all the other barriers is encouraged in here - as long as the characters themselves are doing the talking and acting.

(What happens in the campfire thread, stays in the campfire thread.)

When Boros asked if there were any questions, Rurik quickly responded "Aye."

Then, evidencing a typical Dwarven sense of order and organization, he numbered his questions. "One. Is that axe o' yourn just highy polished, or is it actually silvered? And if 'tis silvered, who is the smith here in town who can do work of that quality?"

"Two. Over in the slums, we ran into a creature who, although she took the form of a Human female, could melt away as if she were a column of smoke, an' whom we could scarce wound with our weapons. I named her the 'Smoke Ghost', in part because of the color of her cloak, although we do not know her true form. She -- it -- nearly drained the life from Ghere, here -- but then simply dissolved away, passing through that north wall o'er in the slums. I feel certain that this is not the first time that she has appeared. Tell us about her."

OOC: I assume that Rolf would have shown the generic marketplace to the adventurers during the original tour of New Phlan, so I have not had Rurik inquire about that. If that was not the case, please have Boros mention the marketplace as well (to save me from having to ask additional questions). Thanks! :)

How did Boros respond to Rurik's IC questions? Thanks.

Boros harumphed. The mistrust in his piggish eyes shone brightly as he regarded the dwarf. But an answer was offered nevertehless.

"The axe was a present from the Captain, after I had proven myself. Well, after I survived that business with trolls." He spat to the side. "It's of dwarven make, as far as anyone can tell me, and needs no sharpening nor silvering to hold a perfect edge. Even blood just kind of slides off its surface." After a moment of thought, he offers it to Rurik for a closer look. The axehandle was made of smooth ironwood, the head artfully inlaid with dwarvish runes ("Cleave through", "Axes high", "Mountains of treasure" and so on) and positively humming with magic.

"Ah, we get a lot of them ghosty things in the slums. That's why I forbid my men to go there after dark. Somehow things all seem much more dangerous when the sun is not up." He spat, again. The man had an endless supply of horridly smelly brownish spittle. "There have been a few of these ghost-like things reported, but they usually stick ot the cemetary or the library as far as I know. This bothers quite a few people. It was only recently that the council hired Tamalg the undefeated to look into the happenings with these undead. We haven't heard anything from him and his fuckto...errr, companion since they left for the graveyard a month ago." He spat, nearly hitting a pigeon. The bird panicked and flew away. "So I guess your smokey ladyfriend comes from one of those places. Unless the Banites made her." The mention of Banites makes him spit twice more. "Damn banites. But even they are not dumb enough to raise up such a monster."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:17, Tue 06 Oct 2015.

In reply to GM (msg # 3):

Rurik's eyes grew wide when he hefted the axe that Boros handed to him, and felt its balance and thrumming magicks. He read the runes on the blade, then with obvious reluctance, handed it back to Boros.

"Aye, 'tis a Dwar-made weapon, and quite a fine one. Did your captain mention how such a blade happened to come into his possession?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:33, Tue 06 Oct 2015.

Ghorgoth approaches the fire, to warm himself on this cold night. Raising an eyebrow to the familiar face of Rurik, he throws him a nod. His eyes drift over to the axe, which cause both of his eyebrows to raise. He whistles in exclamation "Nice weapon".

In reply to Ghorgath (msg # 5):

"Ho, Ghorgath," Rurik welcomed the towering Half-Orc with a smile. "'Tis good to see you again -- which means that you must have taken my advice back near Hug Moldur."

"And aye, 'tis a fine blade, indeed -- one that a Dwar clan-leader or chieftain would be proud to wield."

Rurik's reluctance was almost magically difficult to overcome. It was as if the axe was singing to him, urging him to take it as a bride and use it in battle. However, a stout and honorable dwarf like him won't fall prey to this kind of temptation.

Not yet, anyways.

"We had some scuffle a decade or so ago with a tribe of orcs. Before coming here, you know. They were quite different from regular ones, too. Well organized and almost wealthy. Heh." He spat. "Didn't do them good. Their champion was wielding this axe, and as far as we could gather from the prisoners, he beheaded offerings to their god with it. Now, I don't know much about gods, but I think it was Be'thor or Ba'thor. So the Captain took orcboy's head off with that huge enchanted sword he used to carry around, but not before taking a few wounds. Was a tough one, that orc."

In reply to Rurik Ironhand (msg # 6):

"In deed I did. I left there with a fat coin pouch which helped my village get through the winter."

"How did you fare against the kobolds?"

In reply to GM (msg # 7):

Rurik seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes off of Boros's gleaming axe. "Well . . ." he replied to Boros's tale after a short pause, "'tis a good thing to have reclaimed such a treasure from the Orcs -- and by force of arms, no less."

"'Twould have been a travesty for such a marvelous Dwar-made blade to remain in the hands of the Orcs."

In reply to Ghorgath (msg # 8):

A hint of a smile turned up the corners of Rurik's mouth when Ghorgath spoke of the "fat coin pouch". "'Twas money well-spent, if I do say so myself -- and I do. And I am pleased to hear that the coin was put to good use instead of being frittered away on drink and wenches."

"As to your question about the Kobolds, they were not too troublesome. But the Smoke-Ghost creature that I was just now discussing with Boros, here -- now that was a different matter ... damned near drained the life from one of my battle-companions -- mayhaps ye know him -- Ghere, a Human magicker?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:13, Tue 06 Oct 2015.

Nodding quietly, he says "I know him. He helped me out a while back to find my sisters. There are some people who don't like half-orc's, and they had my sisters banged up in a bad way. He helped when others didn't, I'll owe him for a long time."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:27, Tue 06 Oct 2015.

In reply to Ghorgath (msg # 11):

Rondarr looked a little surprised upon hearing how Ghorgath had come to know Ghere. He suspected that the Half-Orc might have met the Human during their time together in the mercenary company, but it seemed that their acquaintanceship went back much further than that.

"You say that Ghere helped you find your sisters? Well . . . good for him. Family is very important -- one of the most important things, as a matter of fact."

"Ask any Dwar, and he -- or she -- will be quick to tell you that."

"Now as to Ghere, as I was saying, that Smoke Ghost seemingly drained away a lot of his life-force. We have high hopes that he will recover after a night's rest, but there is no way of knowing at this point. Truth be told, at the moment he is looking rather wan and weak. You might want to look in on him back at the barracks -- I'm sure that he would be glad to see you again."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:34, Tue 06 Oct 2015.

Brak stares blankly into the fire,"I hates Kobolds. Good, evil, two sides of the same coin, but Kobolds? They're a blight." He removes a root from his pouch and gnaws on it as he continues.

"They ain't no good as prisoners neither. In a war 'gainst civilized folks, you know, elves, gnomes, other dwarves you can interrogate or ransom a prisoner. Granted you don't prop 'em up in the comfy chair and give 'em a leg of mutton and ya might poke at 'em with a stick to get 'em talkin' but kobolds? Kobolds are like goblins they only understand fear, fear and force," he spits a pulpy yellow liquid into the fire.