[The traditional opening tavern scene to set the stage for the adventure...if you're reading this and not sure what's going on, read the thread announcing all this, and the thread with the character intros. If you want to join in the game, post an intro for your character to the character intros thread, and I'll let you know when your character shows up.]

The Inn of the Broken Sword is a landmark in the seedier section of Artesia City. It sits against the city wall itself, near the gate that leads to the road across the island to the dock city. The inn is the first that foot weary travelers see when entering Artesia City. Many first time visitors end their day there after wandering the city.

The inn is filled with a rough and ready crowd. Experienced eyes can see a higher percentage of adventurers than you normally find in most inns. Artesia City is the frontier, the farthest you can go to escape the strictures and bureaucracy of the Empire. Adventurers gravitate here, to spend their lives probing the monster filled lands of the mainland.

The owner of the inn is a grey bearded man with powerful arms named Varian. He stands behind the bar calmly serving drinks, the two halves of a broken sword affixed to the wall above him.

Sitting in a corner alone is a giant of a man, totally hairless as far as anyone can see. Dressed in leather, with a huge oaken staff propped against the wall, he drinks ale from oversized mugs and watches the rest of the crowd.

A woman wanders the crowd, playing a lute and singing ballads of adventurous exploits. As she passes by this group or that, they smile, laugh, or groan, recognizing their own names in the ballad she's composing as she sings.

All is quiet so far, but the night has hardly begun.

[Post the entry for your characters, and feel free to create other NPCs for them to interact with. If you want to do something that would normally require a roll in most games, but won't affect the scene overmuch, go ahead and decide what happens based on what you think is the most fun/interesting/comical, etc.]

"That's nice, sir," Derissa's voice oozed passed her lips. "Mm...a collector, you say?" her ears perked. "Ah...a great many treasures...oh, of course, I'd love to see your treasures and conquests..." Derissa's golden eyes sparkled as the half-wit of a man in the tavern withdrew a pouch with gems of various kinds within. "Truly a magnificent plunder, m'lord," Derissa cooed. "But, have you had a gemsmith appraise the value?" The man looked at her and shook his head, confused. "Ah, well, how do you know the value if you know not what they are worth?"

"I's bloody di'monds in there, girly!" the man spoke with a drunken brough.

"Ah, but I tell you, I can surely appraise your plunder. I won't even charge you," Derissa smiled.

The man eyed her cautiously. "Why?"

Derissa blinked. "Why should I charge? I try to keep it on the low-down that I am, in fact, an appraiser. Do you realize how many people would start hounding me? It'd be work, work, work all the time! A girl's gotta get her beauty sleep..." The man considered her a moment. The better part of drunkenness, however, overtook his sensibilities and to Derissa, he handed the gem pouch.

Pouring the multitude of emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and sapphires into her hand, her eyes glinted and sparkled as the deceptions began to roll. "Just a bunch of glass," she spoke finally, wrinkling her nose.

"What?!" the man bellowed, almost falling off his chair.

"Sorry, mate," Derissa shrugged, pouring the gems back into the bag. "If you risked your life for this, well...someone certainly had a nice laugh," she quirked a smile and handed the bag of gems back to the man. He waved it off with a dismissive gesture and a grumble.

"Keep th' worthless things. Make yerself a necklace..." Disgruntled and saddened, he removed himself from the table and staggered out of the tavern. With a slight smirk, Derissa slipped the bag into her coat pocket and hopped from the table. Her eyes glanced around the room--all was at it should be, or so she thought. It was good enough.

She shook out her hair and let the raven tresses fall over her shoulders. Adjusting her trenchcoat and beltpouch, she wandered over to Varian, a winning smile on her lips and a wink ready for him. "Hey, V," she began. "How 'bout a tankard, eh? Don't worry, I'll pay ya this time..."

Varian pours a tankard of ale and slides it to Derissa, his eyes narrowing.

"Just in from dock city, and already you're flush? I don't want any trouble here, girl." He leans toward her, his elbows on the bar, and his voice lowered.

"True enough, though, that sot would have lost it all in gambling before the night was out anyway, or been rolled for it on his way home. Mind you don't meet the same fate."

Clearly, little passes Varian's notice in his bar.

The minstrel stops at the bar in her wandering through the tavern. Varian fills a small mug with a clear fluid, which she sips gratefully. Her hair is shoulder length, an unremarkable shade of brown. The rest of her is similarly unremarkable, except for her voice. As Derissa heard earlier, that is quite remarkable.

The minstrel looks at Derissa, smiling.

"Who are you, then? Another adventurer looking for fame and fortune? Best tell me your name now, in case you don't return from your adventures."

"Right enough," Varian agrees. "Merry here will make your name immortal in song, return or not."

"...Well immortal names..i happen to hear. " i start approaching the trio, " benedict is the name, i am a collector of stories and i would love to hear what are your exploits that they would win you immortality"....

Merry nods in greeting to the newcomer.

"The exploits themselves aren't so important," she says, "It's how they're told."

She gestures to a portly fellow swigging ale at a nearby table.

"Old Crow there is famous around these parts because he once passed out at the annual Lighting of the Moon festival. Not a mighty deed, but by the time I was done singing about it you couldn't walk into an alehouse and hear about anything else for a month."

Old Crow grumbles a bit and waves a hand in dismissal.

"That's fashinating...can you share any of your stories..i will pay for your time..." i drop a few coins on the table" and it will not be <glass>" i say looking at the strange woman meaningfully..."i want to hear everything and maybe you might be interesting in a few of my own.."

Derissa was about to comment to Merry about the lack of need in knowing her name, when Benedict spoke for her. She quirked a grin and leaned back against the bar. Her eyes danced as he dropped the coinage on the table.

Hmmm...he could be useful... "Hmmm... braggart or bard?" Derissa smirked to the man. "You have stories, I have stories, this lass has stories...everyone's got a story. Why pay for them? Buy a round of drinks and you'll get further." She smiles and gives him a wink, lifting her tankard to her lips and taking a sip of the ale.

(I wrote something but got......lost in space ????anyway)

"Then drinks it is, and a story from each of us, i consider myself a person who knows many things but there always things to learn, for instance did you knew that the captain of the guard has been recalled ?" I take a look around to see the reaction in their faces. Or on a more theoretical interest where to find the caves of the phoenix ? I may know these things but i also like to hear about the people who first stepped foot to the caves and returned with the tale. The reason for the captains dismissal ; and i don't mean the marriage proposition to chief counselor's younger sister fairytale"

When Derissa claims there's no need to pay for stories, Merry's eyes draw together in the hint of a frown.

"My break is over, heroes," she says, getting to her feet. "I'm off to earn my keep."

She wanders back into the main part of the tavern, singing a song about the founding of Artesia.

Varian chuckles. "Her ale is free anyway, so she's off to look for tips."

Derissa smirks and pours some of the pilfered gems into her hands and gives Varian a wink. "For her, then. She'll find some good use, I'm sure." With a wink, she adds, "See? I can be nice."

Derissa then looks to Benedict. "A captain removed from his post? I'll drink to that! Tell me the story..."

".....it was really a cover up i suppose, i mean who in his right mind would believe that he returned to the mainland to get married." i get a sip.."Here he is somebody but <<back home>> he is a walking problem." leaning closer to my listener.."I think it has to do with a rumor i heard about the other day. People say that he found a map hidden between the floorboards of a cottage near the southern forest. Some claim it is a treasure map and that he left to seek it, others say he had a clash of <interests> with the governor and that he was exiled. I believe that as always the truth is somewhere in between." With a lowered voice as to share a dangerous secret "I happen to know for a fact that the captain has a serious romantic involvement in the big city, the daughter of a Baron if i am correct. the problem is that he cannot ask her father to marry her, being a simple captain and all..But with a treasure in hand and the glory it brings with it....i guess you see me point. I believe he did find something he did not want to share and left to keep and exploit his findings on his own."

I lean back to my chair saying " i for one would like to find out what is really going on. And to tell the truth i wouldn't mind having a few more coins to pass the days"...

Varian snorts.

"Nobody on Artesia would go back to the Empire for love or money." He wipes the surface of the bar with a rag, and gestures into the crowd.

"That lot's always talking about treasure maps and such, but most that go after them are never heard from again. Goblins might not be much one at a time, but there's an awful lot of them in the mountains across the channel."

"If that's where he's gone, his lass is not likely to see him back."

Derissa just sorta purses her lips and nods. "Mmmm...yeah...love. Good reason to go out and get yourself killed," the sarcasm drips from her mouth like honey. "No, thank you, sir. I'd rather not risk my neck for some intangible feeling." She takes a rather deep gulp of ale, silently praying that her contact would just show up already.

"Now, treasure hunting...that's more my style. Not so much the glory as the fortune," she smirks and wiggles her brows. Her ears twitch a bit at Varian's words--about not returning to the Empire for love or money...a soft mutter under her breath indicates she disagrees somewhat.

"Where's the pretty lass with the voice?" She looks around for Merry, then speaks to Benedict, "Not that you're stories aren't entertaining, but... she sings. I like music." She flashes a winning smile and gives a bit of a wink, then sips her ale.

Those at the bar can easily hear Merry's song as she wanders the tavern. Unlike before, she isn't singing about the deeds of those present, but a tale of the founding of the island nation of Artesia. The story told back in the Empire is that the nation was founded by escaped criminals, and is still a hotbed of corruption and danger.

Merry's song is painting it in a different light, with the original founders being merely those who disagreed with those high in the Empire hierarchy, and adventurers who were stifled by the Empire's strict regime.

She's gotten to the point where the fledgling settlement is standing off a horde of goblins attacking through a tunnel beneath the channel separating Artesia from the mountainous mainland.

In their hundreds they slew
Goblins left and right they died
Valiant heroes dropped as well
"The terrible waste," the wind sighed

As she continues the song, the mood around the tavern become less boisterous, and a bit more somber. Most of those present trace their descent from those early settlers, or at least identify with them in spirit.

Benedict gets a depressing look on his face, lost to his surroundings, to the sweet song he looks far with his mind's eye...."Those stories are what gives us purpose, identity. And money don't give you worth us a person, they either make your life more tolerant, help you realize your goals or they enslave you"

Varian narrows his eyes a bit.

"A philosopher, eh? You either need more ale or less, and I'm not in the business of less ale." So saying, Varian draws Benedict another mug of ale and sets it in front of him.

In the tavern, Merry's song has reached the point in the saga where the heroes have defeated the goblins, and been set upon by demons set to protect the island from settlement. Apparently the city of Artesia was found mostly intact, and moved into when the nasties were cleared away.

"Over the demons as they lay
fields of roses bloomed red
The city was theirs for the taking
The creatures all dead"

The song moves away from the darker tone it had previously, and into the lighter subjects of the settlement of the city, formation of the government, ending with the crowning of the first king, Mantik, about 80 years ago.

"Well a good drink does make things look a little better." so saying benedict gives a taste to his ale.

But i still wonder what is in that map that would make a man leave his, well-made life to go and seek it ?"

Just then a young man walks into the tavern and everyone turns to look at him.

They think he is dressed a bit odd. He is wearing short pants that are made out of animal hides. Boots up to his knees that are made out of hide and furs and has a leather headband. A leather pouch is slung across his body and hangs down to his side.

The tavern is darker than it is outside so his eyes take a minute to adjust. He looks around at the seedy establishment and at all of the people looking at him.

A few people chuckle at the sight and then everyone goes back to their business. He spies an empty stool at the bar and sits in it. He throws a couple of coins on the bar and says "Ale, please."

The evening meanders, as evenings often do, and the tavern became increasingly still. Drunks at their cups are passed out, or seeking inward memories of times gone by. Merry's sweet voice lilts on, but the volume of the tavern is at little more than a murmur now.

Benedict, Derissa and the new comer keep mostly to their drinks, only occasionally commenting. Varian is keeping busy with his bar, and all seems to be lulling off.

The ruckus outside takes them all totally unawares. It's hard to determine where the scuffle is, but it certainly sounds big. The cloud of dust rising in the street in front of the tavern is enormous, and blocks the view of the curious Benedict, and the cautious Derissa.

As the noise stops, a voice is heard, "I didn't think so!" shrieked the woman. She turned and marched into the tavern.

The stunned faces gape at her...

"What?"

Varian slides an ale to him.

"Getting quite a few newcomers in today. Must have been a ship from Triumph come into port".



Varian shakes his head slightly, and starts to move bottles off the shelf on the wall behind the bar, placing them below the bar. He moves unhurriedly, but surely.

Derissa glances at the first newcomer and just shakes her head, rolling her eyes...though, she can't help but wonder...what...is in...the pouch...GUH!

She chuckles to herself and turns back to Merry, listening half-heartedly, but picking up on tid-bits of useful information, hoping her employer's weakness will somehow be revealed. Speaking of her employer...where was her bloody contact?! She scans the bar and the tavern with her keen eyes. Her attention, however, is wrested for the moment from the patrons of the tavern to the scuffle outside. Narrowing her eyes, she tries to see who or what is fighting.

Upon the entrance of the new woman and her nearly innocent query, Derissa chuckles and calls out, "Now there's a wench! Firey and fighting... Come have a seat and have a drink!" Derissa indicates a stool at the bar...not really near herself. "Varian, a fitting drink for a fighting lady," she gives a wink to Varian, then settles herself, glancing around.

Curse you, Derissa...drawing attention to yourself... She draws her hood up over her head and recedes into the shadows thereof.

"Now, that's a more fitting welcome!" Kam strode through the bar towards the stool.

"Some people get all bent out of shape when you won't let them rob you blind."

She eyes the other woman... "Are you always this antsy, or just when you're waiting for someone?"

Varian fills a mug with ale with one hand, while continuing to stow bottles beneath the bar with the other. He slides it onto the bar at about the same time that Kam sits on the stool in front of the mug.

She bellied up to the bar next to Randol. She chugged the mug down in a couple of gulps and slammed it down onto the bar. She looks over at Randol, slaps him on the back and says "Hey, what are you dressed for? Is it Festival time already?"

Randol tried to ignore her and finish his drink but she wouldn't have it. "HEY NO SHIRT! I AM TALKING TO YOU!"

Varian groaned. "Kam, please. Not today."

Randol ignored her again. She growled and got up off of her stool. She pointed at Randol and he floated up off of his stool. She waved her hand and Randol flew into the shelves behind the bar just as Varian grabbed the last couple of bottles off.

Randol was on the floor and shook the cobwebs from his head. Varian looked down at him and said,
"In the future, it would be wise to respond to Kam when she speaks."

"Thank you for the advice, Sir." Randol said as Varian helped him to his feet.

Derissa smirked and glanced around again. "Who said I was waiting for someone? I could be waiting for something." She disappeared into the shadow of her hood as her now-disembodied voice spoke, "...I don't like a lot of people..."

From the safety of her shadows, her eyes darted about the tavern, watching the woman--and watching her throw a man around like he was a rag doll--and a few others. While the unusually strong woman was distracted, Derissa slipped from her stool and took up a new position at a corner table where she could see everyone. She put out the candles near her and sat in the darkness of the shadows, observing.

"It is time to take my leave i am afraid," ( the people in here are starting to get too agitated for my tastes...)

At the instant when all eyes are on the ruckus at the bar, the doors to the tavern burst open for the second time this evening. Stumbling in through them is a man dressed in leather. He's dripping wet despite there being no rain tonight, and as the water pools at his bare feet, blood mixes with it. He has the look of a warrior, yet wears no scabbard or blade.

He takes another step into the tavern, and falls face first onto the floor.

As Derissa sits in the corner, she flags down Merry to speak with her privately. As the two converse, Derissa's attention is easily distracted to the door. She blinks a few times, mid-word, then looks to Merry and back to the man who is now falling onto the floor. From her seated sanctum, Derissa makes a quick assessment of the situation.

"Quickly somebody help this man" says benedict with ergency aparent in his voice. He moves quickly towards the door and check the man for injuries.
If he finds any he tries to patch them up with anything at hand in order to stop the bleeding.

The man's injuries are, surprisingly, not all that serious. He has a gash on his side that is the cause of the blood pooling on the floor that looks as if it might have been caused by a sword thrust, and assorted scrapes and bruises.

Varian comes around the bar and helps Benedict with the man. When he sees the man's face, Varian snorts in disbelief.

"That's Connor," the tavern keeper says, "I never thought I'd see him again. He went out with a group to the mainland, hunting goblins, oh, a good month or two back."

Varian nudges Benedict with his elbow.

"He was friends with the captain of the guard you were asking after earlier, so if he comes around, could be you'll get the answers you wanted."

"Goblins?" Randol said with a start. He rushed over to the fallen man, pulled a large leather bound book from his pouch, opened it and then touched the gash on Connor's side. He then said " Oro talo healo" and instantly the wound disappeared.

Connor was awakened. Randol put the book back in his bag and then asked Connor if he saw the Goblin Chief during his hunt.

The burly Benedict then shoved Randol out of the way. He then grabbed Connor and lifted him to his feet. "I have questions for this man first, Stranger. You can have what is left."

"Give him air, you two," Varian said. "He'll tell it in his good time, and sooner if we get an ale or two in him."

Connor stumbles to a stool at the bar, glad to have something at his back after his rough awakening and questioning. He downs the first ale Varian sets in front of him, and then sips at the second.

Connor looks at Randol. "Aye, the Goblin Chief was there, and about a thousand of his subjects. It's the biggest conclave of 'em I've ever seen."

"We'd gone across for the usual things," he continues. "Some of us chasing treasure, others glory, and others, like the boy Caleb, for reasons they chose not to share."

"We ran smack dab into the goblin conclave, and spent the time between then and now as their prisoners. I managed to escape, and had to swim the channel wounded to get back here."

There are murmurs throughout the bar. The impression newcomers get is that this is the first time anyone has managed the channel, which is full of odd tidal currents and jagged rocks, let alone wounded.

"I am more interested in helping this man" benedict says with unconcealed irritation."Answers can wait, this man cannot"

Randol was getting excited. He was close to the goblin chief but knew it would be a dangerous mission to go there on his own and he may have enough magic to keep himself alive but wasn't sure if it was strong enough to battle the conclave of goblins yet. Some of the elder goblins possess magic as well.

This was going to take some careful planning. He knew that he was going to have to free the prisoners as well if they were not dead already.

Derissa glanced back to Merry as the men shuffled over to the poor, wounded man. "Men," was all she smirked out. She spoke further with Merry for a brief moment, smiled and nodded her excuse and walked over to the ruckus crew. She glanced around the room and out of the door as she listened to the tales of goblins.

This man swam the channel...wounded. He could prove to be an asset. Or a disadvantage. The idea that he was lying tugged at her thoughts. She glanced back at Merry, then looked at Varian before shifting her gaze back to Connor. "How long did it take you? To swim the channel, I mean..."

Connor sips more ale, touching the spot on his side where his wound had been.

"Thank you," he nods to Randol as Derissa comes up and asks her question about the channel swim.

"How long?" He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "I have no idea. I wasn't all there for most of it, I think. I'm surprised I made it across at all, but I knew that I needed to warn everyone about the threat."

Suddenly he seems to remember that he hasn't, actually, warned anyone about anything. He springs to his feet, his ale forgotten.

"The goblins are going to attack! I don't know how, but we overheard them talking about what they'd do once Artesia fell. One did say something about 'walking to the island' when we told them they'd never get across the channel."

"And that isn't the worst of it," he says, sitting back on his stool, shoulders slumping.

"The worst of it is who is really behind the goblins, who is organizing them to this end."

All eyes are on Connor as he pauses for breath, and then as he exclaims and slaps at his neck as if bitten by a bug. His eyes roll back in his head, and he slides off the stool back onto the floor.

"The Magic Bridge." Randol said out loud to no one in particular. Everyone looked at him.

"What did you say?" Varian asked the stranger.

Randol was deep in thought and Varian asked him again.

"What!?...Oh, the Magic Bridge. There is a legend that the goblins can create a bridge or a road out of thin air that can go for miles. If this is true, then coming across the channel will be no problem for them."

Everyone just looked at Randol as if he was crazy and a few moments later they began to laugh at him.

"Magic bridge, right." someone said as he continued to laugh.
"Why not fly their magical giant birds?" another person said.

Angered by their laughter, Randol pulled out his magic book, flipped a couple of pages and said the words: "ARTER LANS ORTER"

There was a rumbling and ground shaking outside. When it stopped, people from the bar walked outside and were amazed to see a huge wooden bridge lining the street.

"Now if I can do it, why can't the goblins?" Randol said as-a-matter-of-factly. He then waved his hand and said, "AWAY" and the bridge disappeared into the ground from whence it came.

One man came up to him and said, "All right, if they do have a magic bridge, can you destroy it?"

"No, their magic is more powerful than mine as I am not a full sorceror yet. I am only an apprentice. My magic is basically just to help me on my quest. That wasn't even a real bridge. It was only an illusion but I made my point. Now I can do something like create an illusion of a dragon on their bridge or something and hopefully will scare them back but other than that, my magic is useless against theirs." Randol replied glumly as he put his book back into his leather pouch.

Varian leaves the shelter of the bar and makes his way through the throng of people discussing goblins and magic bridges, and squats beside Connor, who is laying on the floor where he dropped off the stool.

Varian checks Connor over, and stands, his face grim.

"Connor's dead," he says flatly, holding up a small dart. "This was sticking out of his neck."

Varian shakes his head, then gestures toward one of the regulars near the door. "You'd best get the watch, Malik." Malik runs out the door, presumably to fetch the watch.

Randol wondered what Varian meant by the watch but quickly passed those thoughts off as he was more interested in the dart they found in Connor's neck.

"May I see that, Please?" Randol asked Varian. Varian slowly handed the dart to the stranger.
Randol looked it over carefully and even smelled it. He became incensed and grumbled, "Goblins."

"What did you say?" Varian asked him.
Randol pocketed the dart and said, "The dart came from the goblins. They have a special poison that they put on the tip and it usually works quicker than this. Almost instantly. They must have put a reduced strength on this one and let him escape so he could warn us about them."

"Warn us about what?" Varian asked curiously.
Randol looked at him and said ominously, "The goblins are coming and they mean business."

[The end of scene 1 is approaching, so if there are any last minute character interactions you want to have, do them now. The scene will end with the city watch arriving and questioning everyone in the tavern about the events leading up to Connor's death.

I've also started a thread for planning scene 2. Posts in that thread will not be in character, but just all the players discussing what to do next. Once we have mostly a consensus, we'll move to scene 2.]