Hard Crossing

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Hard Crossing

Postby Tolliver Trask » Wed May 30, 2018 6:49 pm

Hardcrossing
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  1. Location: 30 miles Southeast of Llorn. On a tributary between the Old Kingdom River and the Great Canal.
  2. Population: formerly, Bartholomew Scott
  3. Surrounding Area: Orchards and farmland.
  4. Defenses: Fortified House: The farm has fortified its holdings, thickening doors, adding shutters to windows and barring all possible entrances. Arrow slits and murder holes are available on request.
  5. Loyalty: Subject of the Duchal crown.
  6. Wealth: Provides a steady income of 5000 marks a month
  7. Industry: Mill and River Crossing
  8. Buildings: Large Fortified House; Central Keep; Stables
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NPC Personalities

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Bertrand; Butler of Hard Crossing

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Tobias; Stable Master of Hard Crossing

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Leila; Cook/Maid of Hard Crossing

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Karnack; Gate Keeper of Hard Crossing
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Re: Trask makes his way to Hard Crossing.

Postby Tolliver Trask » Wed May 30, 2018 6:56 pm

The weather is gloomy by anyone's standards, with a continual rain fall. The road approaching the fortified bridge is a weed choked dirt road wide enough for four wagons abreast. The road is lined with dour looking trees such as weeping willows and forlorn looking beeches. In the distance a lonely wolf howls which causes the whole seem to just seem more surreal. A lone figure walks down the road with large dog and a stubborn looking mule in tow. Rain drips from his cloak and the edges of his kettle helm, while a thin haze of smoke trails behind him. The figure seems unfazed by the weather, as he just continues forward with the pack laden mule. The hound sniffs the air around but seems to take the man's unconcerned nature in stride and keeps pace with him.

Trask looks up into the sky and sees the moon slowly rising over the trees. Made alright time I suppose. Trask thinks as he looks back down to the Moor Hound. A wise purchase if I don't say. Trask thinks as he begins nearing the fortified manor house attached to the bridge. The structure is Gothic with thick walls and heavily shuttered windows, it facade sparsely decorated with leering gargoyles and jagged looking flying buttresses. The main door is a solid and foreboding looking dark oak, with iron bands reinforcing them. Trask takes a moment to tap out his pipe and place it back into his tobacco pouch, before knocking on the solid door.

From behind the door, several bolts being thrown open can be heard, and with a groaning creak the door opens a small ways to reveal a shadow shrouded face. "Can I help you?" Comes a thin reedy voice of a man in his later years.

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Bertrand; Butler of Hard Crossing

Trask looks the equally old man in the eye before speaking. "I am Toliver Trask, the New Lord of Hard Crossing." Trask reaches into one of his pouches and pulls a rolled writ that is tied with a simple ribbon. The old man at the door opens it a bit further and takes the writ from Trask. Several moments pass as the old man reads the particulars written on it's pages. Once the old man has finished reading, he rolls the missive back up and reties the ribbon, handing it back to Trask. "Lord Trask, I am Bertrand, and I welcome you to Hard Crossing." Says Bertrand before he opens the door fully and steps to the side. "I shall have the stable master see to your mule." Bertrand says as he notices Trask's mule Garrick standing near the doorway.

Trask enters into the fortified manor without fanfare. He takes a brief stock of his surroundings, before making any further movement. The room is dark and forelorn, it's spartan nature apparent to the eye of Trask. Trask looks to the dog for a moment. "Dog, go lay down." Trask says firmly, as he watches the moor hound find a spot near the small fire in the hearth to plop it's soggy bulk. Trask looks back up at Bertrand. "I would require lodgings and a meal." Trask says without much emotion as he pulls back the hood on his guild cloak and proceeds to remove it to be hung to dry. Bertrand takes the time Trask uses to situate himself, to head off, likely to rouse the stable master and the other servants of the house. Once Trask has hung his cloak to dry, he makes his way to the hearth and spies two padded chairs. Lowering his old bones into the chair he finds it to be surprisingly comfy given the general malaise of the main hall.

After a while Trask is awoken by Bertrand gently coughing. "I have seen to your mule and prepared you both a room and a meal sir." The old butler says with a reedy voice. Trask shrugs and gets up from his comfy spot near the fire, to follow Bertrand to a small dining hall. It is here that Trask is introduced to the next servant of the house.
Suicide King
Tolliver Trask
"Tonight, boys, we're eating like kings. We've all tasted death too much it seems." ~Shawn James
P.P.E.: 10/10
I.S.P.: 38/38
H.P.: 39/39
S.D.C.: 71/71
Constant Effects
Sixth Sense, Impervious to Fire, Resistant to Cold.
Temporary Effects
None.
Weapons in Hand
Dwarven Longsword
Armor Worn
Mjorgullan Mail Uncommon Enchanted Splint (half)
• A.R.: 12
• S.D.C.: 40/40
Tower Shield of the Hex Rare Enchanted Large Wood & Metal Plated Shield
• Indestructible
User avatar
Tolliver Trask
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Posts: 73
Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2017 5:54 pm

Re: Hard Crossing.

Postby SNAFU » Wed Jul 11, 2018 3:59 am

WIP


Image
Leila; Cook/Maid of Hard Crossing

"Good evening, Lord Trask," the nervous, timid-looking woman greets Tolliver as he entered the Dining Hall. "I've managed to put together something on the short notice, I hope it's tolerable to your tastes. Just a bit of coney Tobias brought back from the woods. Gosh, I sure hope it's to your liking."

The woman shows genuine anxiety towards his appreciation of her cooking, and is clearly insane, as she as she has prepared a meal fit for a king. Two kings. On the tray at the center of the table three enormously fat, roasted country rabbits are surrounded by a solid berm of boiled, spring potatoes doused in fresh melting butter and savoury herbs. There was even a loaf of bread and an accompanying side of fresh-picked, seasoned field greens (salad) which is something a city-dweller never saw and well-travelled soldier may have suffered during the late stages of the wrong end of a siege somewhere. Trask would learn that all these country people regularly eat foliage and the like and swear it helps keep their guts regular. Only Utu knows if Trask will believe them.

Leila loads up the plate in front of Trask, fills his cup with wine and takes her leave. Trask and his enormous meal are left to their devices.
    • Snafu is
      :SNA·FU; (snaˈfo͞o): 1. A less than desirable scenario in an environment where similar less than desirable scenarios are the norm. 2. A major glitch. 3. A ridiculously chaotic situation. 4. The natural state of things during combat or wartime.
      5. THE GM OF THE BADDEST (Spooks), TOUGHEST (Roughnecks) MERCS ON EU!!!
        MERC LIFE!
      • William Summers
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Re: Hard Crossing.

Postby Tolliver Trask » Mon Jul 16, 2018 10:39 am

Perception: 1d100:
42
/36%
Just in Case: 1d20:
7
/1d100:
58

Conditions: None.

Trask looks at the feast set before him and is utterly shocked. Are they trying to impress me, or was this a small repast for my uncle? Trask thinks to himself as his stomach makes a grumbling sound. "Dog!" Trask says to call his new hound to him. Trask cuts a portion of one of the hares off and gives it to the Moorhound. Trask eats the food that was put on his plate and enjoys his drink before calling for the maid once more. "Leila, I have a need of your services." Trask says loud enough that he hopes she has heard him.

If/When she returns.

"First off, the meal was excellent, but I have some concerns. Was this the size of a meal you would have given my uncle? Like I said the food was delicious, it's just too much for me to eat. So we'll need to store the left overs or divide it up among the staff for them to eat. In the future unless I have guests, smaller meals would be preferred." Trask says with a bit of kindness in his voice.
Suicide King
Tolliver Trask
"Tonight, boys, we're eating like kings. We've all tasted death too much it seems." ~Shawn James
P.P.E.: 10/10
I.S.P.: 38/38
H.P.: 39/39
S.D.C.: 71/71
Constant Effects
Sixth Sense, Impervious to Fire, Resistant to Cold.
Temporary Effects
None.
Weapons in Hand
Dwarven Longsword
Armor Worn
Mjorgullan Mail Uncommon Enchanted Splint (half)
• A.R.: 12
• S.D.C.: 40/40
Tower Shield of the Hex Rare Enchanted Large Wood & Metal Plated Shield
• Indestructible
User avatar
Tolliver Trask
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Diamond Level Patron
 
Posts: 73
Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2017 5:54 pm

Re: Hard Crossing.

Postby SNAFU » Wed Aug 01, 2018 9:12 pm

With more tact than is expected from a man made mostly of leather Trask manages to navigate the treacherous waters of the high-strung housekeeper.

He gets the rest of his staff to join him, Leila included. After an awkward moment or two before the house wine is poured, the staff seem to find the new master tolerable enough.

They are a competent lot, each to their own trade, Trask can get that sense right away as each staff member brings him up to speed according to their own area of responsibility.

Finally after nervous glances from Leila to prod him the Stable Master confesses,

"Milord, we're not sure how to tell you, but we can't just let it lie. We believe that before he died your uncle consorted with demonic or devilish powers and, well, we're pretty sure the bridge is cursed.... possibly the mill too. You see, the night after your unlce passed young Frad Baskers fell off the bridge and drowned on his way home from the pub. And just yesterday Farmer Hershel got his arm caught under the millstone and crushed, had to have it amputated. At night you can hear unearthly singing from across the bridge as if a children's choir were singing from down a deep well, gives us a fright when we first heard it. We're sorry to have to tell you, about this haunting, of your Uncle's dealings and such..."
    • Snafu is
      :SNA·FU; (snaˈfo͞o): 1. A less than desirable scenario in an environment where similar less than desirable scenarios are the norm. 2. A major glitch. 3. A ridiculously chaotic situation. 4. The natural state of things during combat or wartime.
      5. THE GM OF THE BADDEST (Spooks), TOUGHEST (Roughnecks) MERCS ON EU!!!
        MERC LIFE!
      • William Summers
User avatar
SNAFU
Game Master
 
Posts: 1393
Joined: Wed Jan 15, 2014 5:24 pm
Location: GAME MASTER: The Roughnecks

Re: Hard Crossing.

Postby Tolliver Trask » Fri Aug 10, 2018 8:14 pm

Perception: 1d100:
75
/61%
Just in Case: 1d20:
4
/1d100:
70

Conditions: None.

SNAFU wrote:"Milord, we're not sure how to tell you, but we can't just let it lie. We believe that before he died your uncle consorted with demonic or devilish powers and, well, we're pretty sure the bridge is cursed.... possibly the mill too. You see, the night after your uncle passed young Frad Baskers fell off the bridge and drowned on his way home from the pub. And just yesterday Farmer Hershel got his arm caught under the millstone and crushed, had to have it amputated. At night you can hear unearthly singing from across the bridge as if a children's choir were singing from down a deep well, gives us a fright when we first heard it. We're sorry to have to tell you, about this haunting, of your Uncle's dealings and such..."


Trask blinks a few times as he hears the story. "I'll be honest I was expecting something much more mundane and boring. Now I'm very interested in what has happened." Trask says as he taps his pipe out on the bottom of his boot. "I will take a look into this. I want you all to stay inside while I investigate the bridge. If I do not return in a days time, leave this place and make you're way Llorn, meet with Archon Elias Von'Lycien. Tell him what happened." Trask says as he stands up and moves back to the main hall.

Trask puts on his cloak and his Kettle Helm and heads out the door, making his way to the bridge.
Suicide King
Tolliver Trask
"Tonight, boys, we're eating like kings. We've all tasted death too much it seems." ~Shawn James
P.P.E.: 10/10
I.S.P.: 38/38
H.P.: 39/39
S.D.C.: 71/71
Constant Effects
Sixth Sense, Impervious to Fire, Resistant to Cold.
Temporary Effects
None.
Weapons in Hand
Dwarven Longsword
Armor Worn
Mjorgullan Mail Uncommon Enchanted Splint (half)
• A.R.: 12
• S.D.C.: 40/40
Tower Shield of the Hex Rare Enchanted Large Wood & Metal Plated Shield
• Indestructible
User avatar
Tolliver Trask
Diamond Level Patron
Diamond Level Patron
 
Posts: 73
Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2017 5:54 pm


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