TDM #1: WELCOME VISITORS

[calderamods]

TDM #1

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

“The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs.”

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

And you most certainly do.

SIT, STAY A WHILE

The Tavernkeeper offers more than just answers. This is a tavern after all, and what is a tavern without drinks?

"I know just what you need." They say, giving you little time to reply before some manner of drink (alcoholic or not) is set before you.

DRINK MENU

PEOPLE SKILLS: A deceptively simple looking cocktail that when imbibed makes one feel very social. Time to make friends and influence people!

A SPOT OF COURAGE: a tasty concoction so nice on the tongue it loosens it up. You suddenly want to reveal something about yourself!

SKY HIGH: a fizzy blue drink billowing with white smoke and served with a lemon slice as a garnish. It has been known to make the drinker giggly and sometimes even float a few feet off the ground.

CRYING FROG: a swirling bright green drink that makes you want to cry - or is it something else about this place that just makes you want to tear up…

SHARING IS CARING: a large, delicious frozen concoction that comes with two straws. You can't finish it alone! (No, like, you quite literally can't finish it alone.)

52 PICKUP: It's just whiskey. But for some reason it really puts you in the mood for cards, or a game of mahjong, maybe a couple rounds of checkers

QUICKSAND: The thickest chocolate milkshake you've ever had. The flavour is rich and delicious, but it moves like concrete. Sucking it up the straw takes effort. Makes the drinker mellow and lethargic. It's all good, man. Don't worry, be happy.

BEER: Beer? I thought you said bear! (animal transformation)

SEX ON THE BEACH: literally just sex on the beach, but also an aphrodisiac. Have fun! (The rooms upstairs are still open, for the record…)

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

”It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes.”

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

A NEW NORMAL

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

Visitors in all starter cities are offered a standard home with basic necessities provided (your choice in design, etc.) that can house 1-4 people if they so choose. Home upgrades can be purchased via rewards.

THE QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

OOC

Welcome to Caldera's first TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly. For OOC questions, please direct them here.

All locations are available to be explored! Please mind that it is an active work in progress and will hopefully be finalized by June 8th.

We are looking at an opening date of July 1st with reserves opening on June 28th and and applications on opening day.

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

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Comments

ASK THE TAVERN KEEPER (IC Questions)

[calderanpcs]

Standard questions and answers:

Q: Where am I?
A: Caldera, a world split by Land, Sea and Sky.

Q: Why have I been brought here?
A: The world is dying and the leaders have requested outside aid from Visitors like you to help revive it.

Q: Where's all my stuff?
A: Not here. You may get whatever you wish returned if you put forth the effort.

Q: Who are you?
A: The keeper of the tavern.

Q: What if I don't leave the tavern?
A: You have no choice.

IC Questions!

[okiedokies]

Oh, well, thank you. [ Lucy blinks at the drink put before her, smiling politely before she looks at the Tavernkeeper. ] Actually, I'm wondering if it would be okay to ask you a question or two.

OOC QUESTIONS

[calderamods]

Leave your questions for the mods here!

Re: OOC QUESTIONS

[harrowment]

Please... please tell me that Bonita is pronounced Bone-ita and she is a skeleton.

erwin smith. attack on titan.

[theomachy]

tavern

[ of course erwin has questions. for a short time he monopolizes the tavernkeeper's attention until he's urged to move on, but even after that he lingers to listen to what others ask to see if there's anything that isn't a direct overlap. he's still not satisfied with the information he's been given, but what else can he do?

for a short time, he can be found sitting near the window, looking out into the room like he's looking for something or someone in particular. he has one arm with the right sleeve of his military uniform pinned up by his shoulder, and he's nursing a glass of whiskey that looks like he hasn't had much drank from it at all. there's a deck of cards on the table though, and if someone happens to catch his eye too long, he'll use his hand to beckon them over. ]

Care for a game?

in the world

heaven's bow: markets

[ a city in the air is an impossibility to erwin, who nonetheless is in one at the moment even though the gem set in his bolero is a brilliant emerald. he had spent some time at the docks, but despite his ability to maneuver in the air in battle this is something entirely different and he'd settled a little further in, walking the stalls of the market and taking in the sights.

at one point he's stood bent over a booth, looking at a shining knife. it's not ornate but it is sharp and that seems to be what he's most interested in.

at length, he glances up at the stallkeeper and nods. ]

I'll take it.

[ is he going to just not eat this month? don't worry about it. he's probably going to go do a job right after this. with the knife he just bought.

the way he reaches for his funds, pays for the item, and tucks the knife away one-handed as he steps aside for the next person to peruse the wares is done with the ease and smoothness of someone else using both hands. he's been functioning this way for a while, it seems. ]

grey ward: sundown docks

[ it's like nothing he's ever seen. erwin stands at the edge of the docks for a long time, just looking out at the water and taking it in like he's mesmerized. the air smells of brine and he's unsure how he feels about it.

eventually he turns, overwhelmed, to head back into the city proper, but misjudges the distance between himself and another person, causing their shoulders to connect. his hand darts out to steady them if needed, his expression apologetic. ]

—Ah. My apologies. Are you alright?

salt spire: library

[ yeah, no, this man is everywhere in this library. digging through the stacks, carrying almost impossible amounts of books with one hand, sitting at tables reading so intently he doesn't realize how much time has passed, bothering the librarians about the lack of local history, the whole nine yards.

the best time to approach him is while he's scanning shelves though, looking through title after title with a gentle touch to the spine of ones that particularly interest him. ]

So strange that there's no history of this place.

[ not that he's unused to unknown histories. it's also unclear if he's speaking to himself or anyone around him: he sounds thoughtful either way. ]

heaven's bow

[sanguivorous]

[Astarion likewise had his stipend in pocket, and while he's mindful of finding a place to sleep, he doesn't need to eat, (he does need blood, but if he can find animals he'll be set, and generally speaking, animal blood is sold cheap if he can't), but he does need daggers.

There was one at a stall that caught his eye. The right length for what he prefers, pre-sharpened, elegantly simple (he does like garishly ornate items, but not when it can weigh down and affect the usefulness of his blade), and cheap enough for what he has at the moment.

But then some one-armed boor buys it before he can.

Fortunately, one-armed boors were typically easy to steal from.

He follows after him, at a bit of a distance, but never letting the human out of his eyeline. Once they entered a crowd, he steps gracefully through the bodies, slips up behind him, easily unsheathes the dagger from the stranger's belt, and sidles away from him again.

He feels confident of a job well-done, but he wishes he knew the lay of the land better so he could just slip away into an ally or alcove...]

astarion ancunín | baldur's gate 3

[nibbling]

001 » tavern

[ After interrogating the tavernkeeper with a level of entitlement previously unknown to man, Astarion plops himself down and watches. If there's anything he's good at, it's fading into the shadows. Soul after soul emerges from the same type of room he had — most of them equally as perplexed as him, too, if the furrow in their brows is anything to go by.

He observes for long enough to notice that something changes in them after their drinks, whether it be sudden sluggishness or, well, a surprise bear; that one, at least, doesn't take much discernment to figure out. The others are a bit more subtle, and it's a challenge to decipher what they all do, but he does, at least, work out the effects of the drink he's been served.

Ugh, he'll pass — but that doesn't mean it has to go to waste. He smiles innocently at the newcomer a seat over, sliding A Spot of Courage across the counter. ]

My treat.

002 » skyfall docks

[ The wares at the docks are plentiful, but his coin purse is not. Irritatingly, the vendors here have no interest in the currency of the Sword Coast, only the Bones he has a minimal amount of.

Ah, well. He'll make do.

The next time he spots someone who looks sufficiently out of sorts and distracted — like someone who's just been snatched up and taken to another world, perhaps — he makes a beeline for them. As he approaches, he trips over seemingly nothing, body crashing into theirs— ]

Oh! How clumsy of me. I have two left feet, you know.

[ With a quickness, he dusts himself off, patting them on the shoulder and passing them by. Astute victims might notice that their pockets feel significantly lighter. ]

003 » graveyard in the sky

[ It had seemed so easy. Expectation: trek to the graveyard, find some old junk for the archaeological society, profit. Reality: Astarion's soaked to the bone, wet hair sticking to his forehead unflatteringly, and a damned wind sprite keeps knocking him off of his feet.

Despite the awful storm impeding vision, he's got his shortbow out, poised to shoot. The sprites are little, but as is typical of fey creatures, slippery. There's the sound of movement behind him, and he whips around, scowling. ]

I've got you now, you wretched little—

[ He looses the arrow and it goes flying, whizzing right by your head. Oops. ]

004 » wildcard

[ very happy to write personalized starters for any interested parties! hmu at birdlaw or via PM! ]

très

[harrowment]

[Shadowheart is struggling without darkvision, though she's not entirely sure if it's that or the rain that's making things so difficult. The rain certainly isn't helping, and she's slipped so many times that her legs are splashed with mud.

Even through the godsawful visibility, her reflexes are thankfully still sharp: she raises her arm without even knowing what's coming at her, knocking it aside with her borrowed, rough-hewn shield. She takes a moment to look at what it was—an arrow—and another to look at who shot it to decide if she should start yelling.]

Astar—? Watch what you're doing!

[She has decided to yell, but before she can really get started, a sudden gust of wind shoves her over.]

shadowheart / baldur's gate / undine

[harrowment]

[ ooc note: i am more than happy to switch to prose if you prefer! ]

SIT, STAY AWHILE.

[There is something to be said about taking food and drink from a fae creature, and surely that is what this Tavernkeeper is, and Shadowheart is nothing if not suspicious. She lingers near the bar, watching as others (just as confused as she must be, but perhaps not as worldly) take the proffered drinks, eyes narrowed in keen observance.

She's squinting at people. It's not subtle.

There are a few drinks that look absolutely delicious, though, and she can't help but tilt her head to get a better look at what some others are holding, again in a completely obvious way.]

A NEW NORMAL: SALT SPIRE.

[Shadowheart's immediate response is panic—not because of the portal itself, for she knows what stepping through one implies—but because she is suddenly surrounded by nothing but water. It's terrifying, but only for the briefest of moments before she realizes that she's actually on dry land... somehow.

There are fish people strolling through, looking at her curiously but not in a hostile way, and she feels embarrassed that she's just standing there, interrupting the flow of traffic. The schooling of traffic, she thinks to herself, before slipping into the crowd and following a group of seahorse-looking humanoids to wherever they're going.

It turns out to be a marketplace of some kind, with countless stalls lining the streets. Merchants are calling out their wares—cockles and mussels, obviously, but also jewelry crafted from corals, fine silks, and various sea creatures in various states of life. She must look out of place, un-gilled as she is, and this is why she reacts with such swiftness when someone bumps into her, quickly grabbing their wrist and pushing them against a market stall.] Careful whose pockets you try to pick.

QUESTBOARD: THE QUESTENING.

TIPPING THE SCALES.
[The tide is low enough where Shadowheart can wade along the craggy coastline, her leggings pushed up to her knees and her sandals left somewhere further on shore.

There is a sea cave nearby that she's avoiding for the time being, because Lady of Sorrows only knows how far in she can go before she suddenly finds herself (literally) over her head. It's safer to stay close to the shore, where she can actually see how deep the water is, though so far, she hasn't even glimpsed a single scale.

The continual sound of the waves is soothing, helping her keep her focus on the surface of the water instead of drifting to thoughts of drowning. Her eyes are so trained on the water, in fact, that anyone or anything could catch her by surprise.]

COUNTING SHEEP.
[She's not certain what's worse: the fear of drowning while in the Salt Spire, or the fear of plummeting to her death while she's up on these floating islands in the sky.

Morbid calculus aside, Shadowheart is traipsing through a skybound meadow, a length of rope tucked under one arm and pair of shears in her hand. She feels a little underprepared, but she also has zero experience with sheep (that she can remember), so perhaps this is all she needs.]

Oh! [She ducks quickly into the tall grass when she spots something moving in the distance. It may be a sheep, but it may be something else, and she cautiously lifts her head to check.]

WILDCARD!
[ like a different quest? hmu! ]

SIT, STAY AWHILE.

[okiedokies]

[ Lucy is aware of the stern-looking woman who is watching everyone and their drinks while standing near the Tavernkeeper and it makes her curious as to why. Currently, she is holding a drink of her own which seems to be a blue concoction with white smoke billowing gently over the rim of the glass and garnished with a lemon slice.

She hasn't tried it yet, still looking at it almost quizzically as she carries it around. Finally, she looks at the other woman curiously and then at her hands to see if she has a drink. ] Excuse me, did they give you a drink?

eddie munson — stranger things

[thefreak]

i. fade to black (arrival + sharing is caring)

( The last thing Eddie remembers is putting on the most metal concert ever. The bats were swarming the trailer, and Dustin was yelling at him to come on, what are you waiting for? and Eddie...he wasn't supposed to be the hero of this story, but he cut the rope and tried anyway.

For what? For nothing? To wake up in -- Eddie squints as he reads the parchment beside his bed. A Tavernkeeper? Okay, so Eddie must be dreaming. Maybe he got hit in the head and was knocked unconscious. This is starting to feel like one of his Dungeons & Dragons campaigns, except everything feels a little too real. The scents surrounding him, of freshly laundered linen and newly cooked meats, waft in from downstairs. He might not have passed enough classes to graduate, but he's pretty sure dreams aren't this vivid with the details.

If this were one of Eddie's campaigns, he would start with the Tavernkeeper, ask questions, and maybe talk to some of the locals. Of course, he still happens to be wearing his clothes from Hawkins - his Hellfire shirt, a pair of jeans ripped at the knees with a belt made to look like a row of bullets, a utility vest thrown over his leather jacket, and a bandana pulling his unruly hair back. If only this establishment happened to have a shower (or a tub of heated water, if Eddie is willing to accept his new surroundings as reality) because he could really use a bath right now before plunging into any investigations. Alas, the only path Eddie can see forward is the one where he ventures downstairs, and so, to the Tavernkeeper, he goes.

While he doesn't get the answers he hoped for, Eddie accepts the offered drink. He can't help but notice that two straws are sticking out of this ridiculous frozen treat. But no matter how much he drinks, it's almost like half the drink is off-limits to his straw. )

Well that's fucking weird, ( he mutters to himself before looking around for anyone, pointing to a random stranger. ) Hey. You. Care to split the rest with me? ( Eddie puts on his best pout, complete with fluttering eyelashes. )

ii. into the void (a new normal: heaven's bow/skyfall docks)

( The more time Eddie spends in this place, the more he is confident he has lost his damn mind. It's the only explanation. But shit, if the view of Heaven's Bow doesn't take his breath away the first time he sees it.

He isn't sure what compelled him to choose this place, but the Skyfall Docks, with its airships and marketplace, somehow made Eddie feel right at home. It's a far cry from the trailer park, but Eddie never did feel like he belonged there. He never belonged in Hawkins at all.

Without anything worthy of bartering or any kind of currency, Eddie is limited to window shopping for now. It gives him something to work towards, a sense of purpose that Hawkins never instilled.

Of course, he's no angel either, which is perhaps why he also ends up in one of the gambling parlors, only ever observing instead of participating. He can practically hear his dad's voice whispering honey in his ear, Think of all the money you could make. Eddie shakes his head, and all that remains is a neutral yet determined look. He sits down and joins a round of cards. Does he know the rules yet? Hell no, but he's always been damn good at faking it. )

Deal me in, boss. ( Eddie's voice is filled with all the false bravado of an overconfident teenager. )

iii. quest for fire (the questboard: counting sheep)

( Look, Eddie is about as close to Normal Man™️ as one can get in these parts. Sure, he has had a brush with the supernatural in the form of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-001. And yes, he has seen battle wielding a DIY shield and spear combo, but he's not foolish enough to attempt anything that could possibly end with him killed or maimed.

So. Sheep it is.

At least Eddie doesn't have to quest alone. He hasn't always been the best in making new friends so far, so he's determined to impress his new companion(s) on this quest! )

How much do you think we'll be able to carry? ( Eddie muses with a bounce in his step. Shit, he can't believe he's going on a real-life quest! If only the rest of Hellfire could see him now. Sure, it involves shearing sheep, but who the hell cares? He's going to get so many bones. )

iv. wildcard

( ooc: i will switch to prose if you prefer! if none of these tickles your fancy, please feel free to fire off a starter of your own. or, if you would like a tailored starter, please feel free to pm me or hit me up metalheads )

the only thing i've seen of eddie is his guitar fight w/ demons and it was all i needed to like him

[sanguivorous]

ii.

[As beautiful and awe-striking as the uppercity was, here in the underbelly of it all does Astarion feel the most comfortable. Here is where people are at their most honest, even as they think they're being clever and secretive. Their morals, their desperation, even their innocence; this is where it all shines through the veneer of overconfidence and grease.

Astarion explores one of the parlors, getting a feel for what is played in this realm. There are many games that feel familiar, even if the cards being used look different, and he's been leaning against a beam as he observes one of the card tables. Eventually, a couple seats open up and one of them is taken up by a man. Well, boy really, from the looks of his face. Dressed very oddly. And when he speaks, Astarion grins: speaking of innocents.

Pushing off the pole, he slips into the seat beside him.]

Deal me in, too, please.

Astarion Ancunin | Baldur's Gate 3

[sanguivorous]

I. The Tavern
[One moment, Astarion is trancing at camp, trying to rest and prepare himself for the following day where he and his companions planned on entering his master's--Cazador's palace, and the next he's waking up as if from a slumber in an unfamiliar tavern. He has slept, or "slept", in most if not all the taverns, inns and brothels of Baldur's Gate in his 200 years of luring "prey" back to Cazador, so when he doesn't recognize the decor, even as sparse as it is, that is somewhat unusual and worrisome.

He creeps out of the room, keeping himself out of view to eavesdrop at first. Was this a regular tavern? Would the other residents, unawares he was listening, be speaking in tongues or the maddening language of the fey? Anything to give him a hunt about what has happened. However, all he gleans is that the guests are in the same boat as him, so he eventually joins them down in the public area. He remains on guard, but turns on his usual defense: gregarious, bar-goer charm.

First, he takes the drink offered him by the keeper, and the look of that being doesn't make him any less suspicious this isn't some fey trickery, but he doesn't get much more information from him.

He isn't trusting a drink given to him by someone that looks like that lest he winds up the captor of the fey for 100 years, so instead he idles at the bar, catching the eye of whomever passes him first, giving them an inviting smile and gesturing kindly to the empty stool beside him.]

I'm afraid I don't drink, but they gave me this anyway. Would you like to have it? The barkeep called it a Spot of Courage. Sounds bracing for this situation we're in, hm?

[He wasn't told that the drink would have any sort of magical property, but he's using you as a guinea pig nonetheless.]


II. The City in the Clouds
[Like everyone else, he is drawn to the portals, and the one that calls to him the strongest belongs to the city in the skies. Stepping through, he is immediately agog by the cityscape before him. He has been to many impressive places, but nothing quite on the scale of this.

A memory comes to him, the droning voice of Gale trying to educate him on their world's magical history. Astarion had been, of course, dutifully ignoring him, but some information couldn't help but to leak in.

He glances over, finding another person that seemed to be in the same boat as him, judging from how they were looking at the world with unfamiliarity, too. He approaches, tapping them lightly on the shoulder.]

Excuse me, do you know if this is a Netherese enclave?

[Hopefully, the stranger had had more luck sussing out information than he had before finding the portal.]


III. Quests
[Still being quite unfamiliar with the laws of the land, he isn't too keen to make his money from stealing and pickpocketing just yet. A little here or there, sure, but he didn't know if this place subscribed to the draconian crime reform theory of an eye for an eye, (or a hand for stolen goods, in his case), so he ought to keep it to a minimum for now.

He was pointed toward the questboards as a means to make extra gold, or Bones, as they called it, so here he was, studying what was posted.

Any of the quests listed under Sylph seemed more than doable, but some sounded like he would need at least one other person to join him. There may be a way to reach out to other people to see if anyone would like to join, but he gets a bit distracted when he discovers the, what he can only call, sex quests.

He chuckles giddily at what's listed, deeply tickled, and as someone steps up to the board alongside him, he'll look at them with gleaming eyes and toothy smirk as he taps at those particular postings.]

Do you believe this? Do you think this is true, or have we found ourselves in a world full of perverts and voyeurs?

((OOC: This prompt can lead to them doing a quest! Preferred not NSFW for now unless we've discussed something beforehand.))


IV. Wildcard
((OOC: Feel free to reach out to discuss anything, including a unique starter! Also feel free to post your own unique starter. PM me or mundofine!

the tavern;

[grilletto]

[ Somewhere in all this confusion there was a joke about how Mista was terribly mista-fied but it certainly would have been beyond him. A thought for another time, perhaps. He'd had a lot more questions than the Tavernkeeper had been willing to answer and was only mildly irritated that he'd been unceremoniously shooed away with a drink he hadn't asked for. It hadn't seemed all that appealing so he'd just left it there before sauntering away with his lips puckered thoughtfully.

And now there was some weird dude trying to flag him down and offer him another one? If he'd been more in his element he might have ignored him and kept walking but maybe he'd learn a little more if he talked to some of the others that had been dragged here as well. He almost looked bored as he approached, brow raising slightly before he tried to size him up. Probably not a stand user but it was so hard to tell sometimes...

He wasn't going to sit just yet, weight shifting from one hip to the other. ]

Hmmm, yours does look better than the one they gave me.

[ A beat. ]

So are you like, in recovery or something?

[ Smooth as always, way to make it weirder. That's not how you ask why someone doesn't drink. ]

Lioriley | Original + Ainmhian CRAU | Undine

[invigorates]

tavern;

She's done this song and dance before — the whole suddenly thrust into a different realm and told through ominous means that she had to help. And she was perhaps not as shocked as she could have been when she awoke, read the parchment, and realized immediately that her powers had been stripped from her. As always.

Given the circumstances of the last world she had been in, being told she had to simply 'aid the leaders of the world' was not so terrible a duty to have shoved upon her. No mandate to partake in — ahem — intimate activities with others, nor the implication of being closely watched for her participation. Fine. She could do this.

She scanned the gathering crowd of Visitors, hoping to see at least one familiar face to quell the worry in her gut. Glowing lines upon her skin pulsed with the thrum of her heart — a little faster than she would have liked, but still calmer than anticipated. She looked to a drink someone had in their hand, head cocked.

"I have no intention to alarm, but oft times such things might have odd effects on your mind and body. I would tread carefully."

salt spire - library

If there was one means to assuage her worry for her predicament, it was certainly the massive library she found herself standing before. The sapphire she had been gifted was placed upon her throat, a black choker wrapping around her throat to hold the jewel in place. Then, she was inside, perusing books with no rhyme or reason. Snatching them from the shelves with wild abandon.

"Excuse me." She said, holding five or so books in her hands and nodding upward toward a purple-spined book upon a too-high shelf. "Might you hold these for me a moment? I have another I would like to take before I settle down to read."

quest - mother of pearl;

Lioriley was under no illusions of strength when she picked up the oyster from the shallow water and looked it over, staring at the thin line that split the shell.

An easy quest in theory — but terribly difficult for a woman with the strength of a toddler and no weapon in sight to use to break or pry the oyster open. She glanced to someone nearby, hoping they were doing the same quest — or at least wouldn't mind helping.

"Do you have a knife? A hammer, perhaps...?" Help.

quest - the children yearn for the mines (part 1);

Lost kids? Of course she was going to look for them. Powerless or not, Lioriley would have attempted the investigation regardless — asking around town for any clues until she was ultimately led to Giant's Rest.

Upon arrival, she searched, and could be found kneeling down with a small shoe cradled in her hands; the look in her eyes one of sorrow and, upon closer inspection, the beginnings of tears welling. "Well this is... unpleasant." for lack of a better word.

wildcard;

All 1 and 2 star quests are fair game, so feel free to toss those at her, too. (No NSFW pls). If you want to plot, hit me up at elfwife

Tavern

[sanguinehunger]

Thankfully her familiar face wasn't hard to find. Who else had such lovely, perfectly coiffed white curls? It came as no surprise to Astarion that he and Lioriley arrived at another strange little realm together, because the fey weren't stupid enough to keep just one of them.

Still, as he scanned the crowded tavern space, he breathed a sigh of relief to see that pulsing cyan light of flickering leylines. With very little ceremony, Astarion strolled over to Lioriley and wrapped her up in a hug from behind her. "Hello, darling. Fancy meeting you here."

Ianto Jones || TORCHWOOD/Doctor Who

[needmetodoanyattacking]

Tavern

[This is too much—this has all been too bloody much.

He barely reacts to the shift in locale, accepts the barkeep’s offer of a drink without question—he’s got so little to lose at this point.

He’s seen his best friends die. He’s had to let Jack go again, face off with Daleks, and had his whole sodding planet towed back to its own galaxy by TARDIS.

He’s so filled with grief, agony, and rage that he’s numb. It’s worse than it was not too long ago, after Lisa and the Beacons and Toshiko’s girlfriend…

…oh God, Toshiko…

So he takes the deceptively simple drink he’s given and he knocks it back as readily as his old regular from the Ferret. He’s served another…and the feeling that starts seeping in at the edges of his consciousness is strange. It’s alien.

Ianto can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt well and truly social.

Yet, here he is, drink in hand, wandering the tavern that has acquired a few inhabitants by this point, and zeroes in on a table with but one occupant.

He approaches, thick Welsh accent and all, and smiles hopefully.]

Er—hello. Hi…mind if I join you?

Salt Spire Library

[Ianto is going to stay here.

With his gemstone already set at his wrist as a heavy bracelet, he walks among the shelves and is taken back to the museum he worked in before Torchwood came into his life, when nothing was ever as exciting as the next artifact or exhibit in need of cataloguing.

This library is beautiful. It’s beyond words, and it is as vast as the Torchwood archive itself.

In this place, Ianto becomes quickly, blissfully lost—and feels the pain abate enough to feel a tiny sliver of peace.

Yes…if he is to remain here? He will make this place, this one here, his new home.]

Questboard: THE CHILDREN YEARN FOR THE MINES

[The moment he reads about missing children, Ianto is in pursuit. It means leaving the waters he has swiftly become so comfortable in, his beloved library…

But this? Is what he was trained for.

Heading for the land, he visits the outskirts mentioned in the posting and seeks out the families first. He speaks with who he can, and gathers all they know with firm promises to bring them all he can reach—the children themselves, if they enter his line of sight.

Once he’s made his rounds to the families, he can be found in various public areas by anyone else on this quest, or anyone in Dryad territory. Sometimes he’s just the stiff, formal man being stubbornly nosy, others he’s the odd duck doing far too much silent staring—and at least twice, his questions are taken poorly, resulting in him pinning some poor sod to a pillar or post with their arm wrenched behind their back until they’re willing to either be peaceable, or tell him what he wants to know.

On this quest as well? You’ll do well to approach him—if you can aid in getting more information than he would find alone, he might offer to cede the reward to you.

After all, it’s a pittance anyway—and he’s not in this for the Bones. In this world or any other…he’s still Torchwood.]

Tavern

[okiedokies]

[ Lucy knows all about feeling like there has been too much going on. She feels it now as she sits at a table by herself, staring hard at the drink in front of her as though it might have all the answers for her.

At the sound of the voice nearby, she blinks upwards and finds herself staring at a man she doesn't recognize who seems to want to sit at her table. ] Oh, of course. Please sit. I certainly don't need a table all to myself. [ She replies hurriedly, motioning at one of the chairs with a smile. ]

Nie Huaisang | Mo Dao Zu Shi | Dryad

[illicitly]

A. Tavern

[Nie Huaisang is no stranger to visiting inns. He spends just as much time travelling between his home and Lanling or Gusu as he does within the walls of his own keep. So after finding himself whisked away suddenly to a strange land, winding up in an establishment that's familiar in spirit to ones he frequents if not actuality offers a fraction more comfort.

Even better is the expansive list of drinks available to sample, a menu that he seems to be quite merrily making his way through different points. Whenever someone sits down next to them, he turns to them with an easy smile that somewhat contradicts the glimpse of bone-deep weariness in his eyes, as if he'd recently completed an arduous, painful task of some kind.]

Hello, stranger. Drink up! There's a pretty decent selection for a place like this. Oh, and-

[He turns to the tavern keeper.]

I'll have whatever they're having!

[Drinks are best enjoyed with company, after all. This mood may be influenced after having a few drinks already by this point.]

B. Grey Ward

[Of the three places visible through the portals, this is the one that called to Nie Huaisang the most, or at the very least, called out to him most on the instinctive level as a potential home. The grey stone reminds him a little of his mountainous homeland only here, it comes without the accompany shackles of leadership or responsibility. Or at least, so Nie Huaisang thinks when actually stepping through the portal with a thin but tentatively hopeful smile.

For a long while, Nie Huaisang simply strolls around, idly twisting the new emerald ring around his finger. Better to get acquainted with the lay of the land and adapt enough to live comfortably in it it, he believes. He's deep in thought, simply absorbing all the new sights and sounds and forming starting impressions of them when another body suddenly collides with his own.

He barely has a chance to react to the mumbled apology before the local pickpocket scampers away, completely unaware of the treasured hand-painted silk fan pilfered from his person in their grasp. But maybe with any luck, someone else present will have noticed the theft and be a good enough bystander to either inform him of the misdeed or retrieve and return it to him at a later date.]

C. Questboard

[Normally, Nie Huaisang is one to willingly seek out work and while he's grateful to have been given a roof over his head, it's nowhere close to the standard of living he's grown accustomed to. Besides, he's pragmatic enough to understand that he's not going to be able to survive here on the grace of his good looks and family name alone. Just as he'd had to make adjustments over the years to fulfill his obligations as clan leader back home, he'll have to make adjustments here as well.

A just like he'd been in the early days of inheriting his position, Nie Huaisang is at a total loss of just how to proceed here. He stares at the board with all the overwhelmed helplessness of a man who's never had to apply to a job in his life. Eventually, he sighs, feeling lost as he turns to whoever else happens to be scanning the board as well.]

Ah, um, excuse me. Could you tell me how any of this works? I'm afraid I don't know how to go about any of this on my own.

D. Wildcard

[OOC: Huaisang is 35, looks to be in his twenties. For the canon familiar, he's from immediately after the temple. I'm open to any of the drinking prompts, including the NSFW option! Also open to all quests. Kink list and permissions are on his journal.]

c

[oldsole]

[The questboard is business as usual, and even though Chilchuck hates the entire 'do quest, hopefully get paid' angle, he's not unused to this sort of thing - this isn't the first time he'd have to try to negotiate after the job's done. No-

And he sighs, deep and resigned, and ever so slightly disgusted.

-all of this seems rather familiar, really. And given this, it takes him a moment to realize that someone's speaking to him with a question.

He turns towards the speaker. Continuing the trend of babyfaces, he looks like a twelve year old human lad, maybe. Someone youthful, jaded beyond his tender years, but still quite young. Short. Slight.

But the look he turns to Nie Huaisang is cynical beyond his seemingly youthful years. It's a very what did you just say? look.]

Huh? [Surely he misheard!] You really don't know how any of this works?

Chilchuck Tims | Dungeon Meshi/Delicious in Dungeon | Sylph

[oldsole]

I. It's gonna bother me that I can't think of a good drinking pun, but, tavern.

[So, he loses consciousness. He reawakens somewhere else, Chilchuck's currently rolling with the assumption that he got shoved into a painting by accident given the dramatic setting change. (...it makes sense in context, and it's a hypothesis, and it's not likely true - and he knows it - but it gives him something to go off of.) Does any of that matter? At the moment, no. This is a test drive meme, we fly by the seat of our pants.

Here's what matters.

For all intents and purposes, what appears to be a tall-man boy (he's not) is nursing a mug of...

Something, which the Tavernkeeper had set before him. It's a fascinating drink, whatever it is. He'd taken it with a-]

Don't mind if I do.

[He actually does mind, in fact, but it doesn't take much to notice that people are drinking it, nobody's dying, and he's been dying for a drink. So, down the hatch it goes.]

So. [So.] What do you make of- [He gestures: the tavern, the people around them, that suspicious guy in the corner trying to draw people into a game of cards.] -all this?

II. Destiny-choosing, he's gonna end up heading to the sky but first things first.

[They're compelled. They walk out the door, and emerge into inky blackness, an endless room. It's very dramatic. One can imagine some music playing in the background, like a chorus of voices singing a creepy psalm to some gods or whatever.

That doesn't matter. Chilchuck doesn't give a fuck.

This is what he does: he turns back towards the door (which is gone) and spits out some curse or another in some language that people probably don't know, but it sounds utterly vulgar so they can assume it's some fun swearing. (It's got that cadence to it?) Then, he turns back to the portals. Then, he checks his pockets. Then, he asks you, offhandedly,]

Got something you won't mind losing?

[He needs to test them and only has so much stuff to throw.]

III. cw: stupid, it's the sheep quest

[So, he's in the middle of nowhere. There's sky sheep. Everything seems like it's going okay so far - sure, he's traveled far, but he's gone further. And he knows his limits. He's only willing to do so much for so much pay. (It would be nicer to get payment upfront, but it is what it is. Everyone thinks he's a 12 year old boy it is what it is.)

There's some sheep right over there. His plan is as follows: sneak up on them, sheer them, bolt. If he's working with someone else, it's some variation off of that, maybe he's a decoy, maybe he gets on top of the sheep? Details.

Regardless, here's the problem, because it can't go that easily.

This is the point in which some creature (perhaps a harpy, perhaps something else, maybe something that sounds great wyrmish enough but probably isn't one) makes a very loud, angry noise, and the cloud sheep fucking bolt.]

IV: The obligatory wildcard option.

[Or surprise me, I'm open to surprises. PM me if you want to get a hold of me! I've read the manga, so hit me with whatever; in case there's any anime-only watchers I'll default to no spoilers/mark spoilers when they come up so people don't get blindsided by surprises when they just wanna tdm.]

I. i've finished the manga so good w/anything!

[fisherwife]

[The cloak she's found has been pulled up tight around herself, Mipha not entirely sure how people would react to her here. It was certainly no Hyrule and she hadn't wanted to take chances with the unfamiliar place, didn't want to make anyone scared or unnerved or whatever.

It's handy and her own drink goes largely untouched for now as she just watches and listens to people. Not a single person has mentioned something familiar either, damn.

Chilchuck's voice makes her startle a little before she looks to him slightly, remaining hidden as best she can] Oh... It's a bit much to take in, isn't it? I understand this place's leaders might be desperate for help, but I was already dealing with something just as important back home. I wish they would have asked first... [Though technically she supposes her end was done, she just hadn't been able to stick around to see the results.]

It's a bit surreal, I'm afraid. [She smiles gently.] I imagine most people might also feel conflicted about it?

Kafka Hibino // Kaiju No.8

[jakdf]

I. Crying Frog
[ He hasn't gotten a drink yet. But he IS sitting at the bar, staring intently at the back of one of his hands with an expression that is tight lipped and serious. It's almost as if he's expecting something to be there, and isn't finding it. He turns his hand over and then back again, only breaking out of it when the bright green swirling drink is planted in front of him.

He startles, and sits up a little straighter with a laugh. ]

Oh hey! Thanks! Uh.... Bottoms up, I guess! [ He lifts the drink up to take a sip but stops just as the glass touches his lips as he notices someone sit down next to him. Instead of drinking anything the glass is set back down and he grins, all teeth. ]

Hey there! Just waking up to this weird old situation too, huh? You thirsty?

II. Portal Choice
[ Honestly, he's taking all of this in stride. Or he seems to, on the outside. There's a bit of panic going on in that noggin of his as he stand in front of the three out of five activated portals. If someone were to pay attention they might notice the slight wiggle in his lip or the tense way he's clenching his fists.

Eventually he makes a sudden exhale and smacks himself on either side of his head with his hands. ] GET IT TOGETHER KAFKAAAA!!! This isn't a BIG DEAL!!!! [ Shouting at himself... He barely registers that he's not the only person in this Void of Portals. At least for a moment. ]

Oh. You made a decision yet? [ It's funny, but when he speaks to the person next to him, he's all smiles again, the tenseness in his shoulders releasing as he glances over at his temporary companion. ] Looks like we've only got three to pick from huh?

[ His gaze slips to the two portals that seem inactive. ] Wonder what's up with that...

III. Ultimate CRONCH [Dryad]
[ It's really not his fault they're in this situation, but things always seem to go to shit (sometimes literally, if you consider intestine duty to count) at every turn, sometimes. He and whoever else he's working with have been playing guard duty for a particularly large crystal, but now there's a sizable crowd of gemlins approaching. It's only natural, this gem is especially sparkly.

Kafka has armed himself with a metal bar of some sort and is currently taking a swing at some of the Gemlins that are getting too close. ]

Back! GeeeeeeEEEEEET BACK! This isn't for you! Find something else to get your snack on with!!! [ He takes another swing and the gemlins leap back again, but one takes the brunt of the hit and tumbles away. ] Hey!! Anyone got any ideas how to take care of these guys better? I can keep swinging, but we're REALLY going to wanna get out of here sooner rather than later!

IV. Wildcard
[ Open to just about any Quest, minus anything NSFW. Feel free to throw just about anything at me! Kinda voicetesting so please be gentle. ]

Portal Choice

[illicitly]

Yes. I'm going there. It doesn't look too different from what I know.

[Nie Huaisang points to the portal leading to the gray stones of the port city.]

It seems as good of a place to start as any. There may be opportunities to change one's mind later.

[He gives a little nonchalant shrug.]

Caleb Widowgast | Critical Role

[born_in_flame]

I. The Tavern

Caleb has always felt slightly off kilter in taverns. Too much noise and too many people. This one comes off as a bit quieter however and after he speaks with the tavern keeper trying to gain more information he is offered a amber filled glass that he sips. After a moment or two he spots a few men dealing cards and feeling brave he starts wandering over to see what they are playing.

"Deal me in yah," he says with a disarming smile.

II. City in the Sea

Caleb isn't sure what draws him to the final portal. Maybe it reminds him of a certain Ruby and the sea or his half orc friend, but he finds himself outside a rather large library with a sapphire in his hand. For a moment he looks deeply sad as if the jewel is reminding him of someone who was not beside him. He tucks it in his pocket and moves into the library starting to explore the shelves and figure out what he can learn about his new home.

"What library doesn't hold it's own history in it," he mutters softly.

III. Quests

Caleb stood in front of the quest board and looks it over. "Interesting," he says thoughtfully. To an outside observer he is a tall, handsome man with auburn hair streaked with gray and crystal blue eyes. "There are certain quite a few to choose from," he mused speaking with an accent that sounds German but isn't."

IV. Wildcard

[Have an idea for a prompt, please DM me or throw up a starter and I'll merrily I'll roll along.]

Re: Caleb Widowgast | Critical Role

[thesunreturns]

Simon had more been locating books on his own special interests. Seeing a human startled him, enough to start a few words of an illusion spell to convince the human that Simon was just another human visitor. Damn, he was not used to just having humans who actually knew about Faerie or the equivalent. Not used to seeing them at all, to be honest, as he'd been living in the Undersea, rather than running around the human world.

The reminder when the magic didn't come stopped his attempt to cast. "Hmm?"

"That is curious. Every librarian I've met is fastidious about collecting information." He'd even learned that Gwragen used the Libraries to compile illusionary alterations, even if those caught in them couldn't see the reality.

Verity Gyr | Faerûn/D&D OC

[veritygyr]

[ooc: If you prefer brackets, I'm happy to match your style!]

Sit, Stay a While

"That's kind, but I still--" The tavernkeeper turns away and Verity is left with the drink they gave him. The tiefling breathes a heavy sigh and fidgets with the red leather cords around his wrist. He hasn't seen anyone else in his order, he doesn't understand why he was taken and not them.

Verity looks down at his drink. He rarely drinks alcohol but this doesn't' smell particularly alcoholic. He slips away from the bar, preferring to be somewhere more out of the way as others appear, coming down the same way he had. The drink is actually quite good and after a few sips, Verity relaxes more. Enough that he ends up approaching another patron or table and blurts out,

"I don't know how to do this." Good start. "Uhm... I'm Verity. Can I--would it be okay if I joined you?"

[ooc: Verity's had either A Spot of Courage or People Skills (which he does not have naturally poor bab]

A New Normal: Grey Ward

Glass Market
It's the stained glass that draws him, but the familiarity of the bustling marketspace that makes him stay. Verity keeps his cowl up, attempting to hide his horns, though there's no getting away from his unusual eyes or rather obvious gargoyle-like feet. Or tail. He watches children running around and after spending his own childhood as an urchin, it isn't hard to catch some of the more bold pickpockets at work. Verity has nothing of value on him and his clothes are drab grey and faded black - he makes a poor target.

He has some coin - bones? - to spend, though he's aware of how limited his means are. That's not particularly new, at least. He didn't necessarily take a vow of poverty as a monk, but it became a fact of life relatively quickly.

The tiefling lingers near one of the food stalls, trying to decide if it's worth getting something that smells very good with what little he has. It's as he's thinking that he feels a bold little hand trying to reach past his tunic. He glances down and his tail catches the child before they can dart away.

"Hey," he says softly. "Just ask."

And with that, he offers the few bones he has before his tail releases the kid. Well, there's that decision made.


Outside the City
Verity doesn't really know why he's out here. He left the city gates, made it a few hundred yards down the road, and simply stopped. No longer surrounded by people (though there are some coming and going along the thoroughfare), he pulls back his cowl and lets it rest around his neck. He already feels a little better.

Staring ahead, taking in the landscape, Verity touches the red leather cords around his wrist.

"My knees may stagger, my bones may break, my will may fracture - but my faith stands strong on your shoulders," he murmurs. If he can hold to that, he'll be all right. He does not know if his god is here, but it doesn't matter. Verity has no intention of abandoning the tenants he has lived by for so long.

Questboard

Graveyard in the Sky
Verity has a handful of advantages when it comes to keeping his balance in bad weather: his unusual feet and his tail are a good start. Having spent the better part of his life training as a monk certainly doesn't hurt.

He wedges himself down between a piece of wreckage and a rock, attempting to stay out of the wind for a moment. He pulls his hair loose and quickly braids it tighter than it was. He can't have the wind whipping it loose and into his face if he's going to achieve anything.

Verity goes still and his hand tightens on his longbow and he shifts slowly, trying not not disturb the debris around him. Is it a sprite? No, it's someone losing their balance. He drops the bow and launches over the rock to grab a hand or leg (or tail) - whatever limb he can get his hands on to keep them from falling further.


The Children Yearn for the Mines
The stories are upsetting, not only for the anxiety of the parents who don't know where their children are, but for the fact that they've been dismissed by people who should be helping him. But those are the places Verity finds to intervene, so of course he is here, listening to every story, every description, no matter how long it takes. Some parents are distraught, others are numb, and others still are just angry. He learns names, the color of their eyes, their hair, what they were wearing (if anyone remembers) when they were last seen.

From one mother he takes a little owlbear plush, she insists her son can't sleep without it.

Verity steps away from the impromptu town meeting that his interviewing created and looks down at the toy. He tucks it carefully into his satchel and shifts the bag so that it rests against his side rather than his back.

He's breathing to center himself, to remind himself that he needs a clear head, when he notices someone else.

"Are you here to look for the children too?"

Wildcard/Notes

[ Like it says above, I'll match your style if you prefer brackets. Info for Verity is here. Your character is welcome to run into him anywhere in Gray Ward and he will cautiously explore the other locations. Also more than happy to play him in a roommate situation with other new arrivals. Feel free to PM with questions or to plot! ]

the children yearn for the mines

[roblet]

Winslow doesn't usually have much of a soft spot for children. Perhaps it's because he was never allowed to be a child himself, but he's awkward and unfamiliar with them. He doesn't dislike them, however, and he has in the past gone out of his way to retrieve a lost child with a successful outcome, so he listens to the stories of the parents, eyes flicking from face to face and memorizing features so that if he sees children with combinations of them later, he knows with whom they belong.

a woman is pressing a religious token into his hands (he feels sick to look at it, closes his eyes, breathes, then takes it and puts it in his pocket) when he's spoken to, and the elf looks over to appraise the tiefling with a nod. "I am," he confirms, giving the frightened mother's hands a final squeeze before fully turning away.

"We'll likely do better working together. I haven't truly worked alone in a long time now, and the company would be welcome."

winslow. dnd oc.

[roblet]

tavern

[ ridiculous. an elf dies and gets brought back one time and now everything is fucked up and weird. he's used to things going strange, though this is... a new expansion of that. a tiny room is nothing like the limbo he now knows, or like where he'd been before he'd fallen.

he hates not knowing. he hates not having guidance. he hates that he slips back into thinking of the long-dead goddess of his childhood when things go wrong.

but none of that matters. he's a friendly enough face at the bar, holding a simple-looking drink that he occasionally takes a sip from.

at some point, he leans over with a charming little smile, tapping the bar between himself and the person next to him. ]

What are your particular thoughts on our scenario? I've my opinions, of course, but I'm still trying to figure out the exact logistics as to how and why people are chosen to be brought here.

heaven's bow

markets

[ winslow is used to cities in the sky, or at least those built-in levels on towers, but he's used to being near the bottom and only seeing the sky when he leaves home entirely on his group's airship or sneaks in among the higher classes.

but here he's just out with the sky right there and it's beautiful.

however, he has to get his bearings and make sure he doesn't have to live on the tiny stipend he's been granted. quests are all well and good, but he wants to be properly set up before he takes any real risks.

so he swans through the market like he owns it. he doesn't socially engage unless he has to: he's not a face thief, he's a hands thief. which means he moves quick and quiet and picks pockets as he passes, snatching little things here and there and tucking them away in his clothing like they were never there.

there are a couple of options for meeting him: approach him after he's successfully stolen something from a stall (dealer's choice as to what as long as it's something practical), or when someone finally notices their pocket lightening and he has to start working his way through the crowd as quickly as possible, ducking under arms and around people to make sure he's difficult to spot among the masses.

or hey, maybe he stole something of yours! that's definitely possible. if this is the case, it's likely that he'll bump into the person, just a little, and pass by. ]

My apologies, do excuse me.

[ his voice is calm and easy like he belongs, but as he passes there'll be at least one pocket lighter than it should be. ]

skyfall docks

[ winslow stands near the docks, taking in the sight of the airships coming and going. rather than seeming impressed or in awe of the sheer numbers and makes of them, he looks shrewd and calculating, like he's figuring out logistics of something.

that something: if there's an airship that looks like easy pickings. he's not big on risk these days, but this is extenuating circumstances. he's very rarely been thrown anywhere without any of his gear, and he's feeling the lack of it. even the weapons tied to his soul that he can manifest instead of carry with him aren't a possibility.

so: he's going to try and sneak right on board one to scavenge for gear. ]

quests

the graveyard in the sky

[ this should be a walk in the park. this is winslow in his element, picking through airship wreckage with the practiced ease of someone who's done it dozens if not hundreds of times before. he seems to know a bit about the parts of an airship too, pocketing things here or there that might turn out useful later even if not able to garner him currency.

he'd been looking forward to the ease of speaking with the dead floating around, of getting their secrets and finding their hauls, but his connection with the ethereal plane feels severed here and leaves him frustrated even if it doesn't show outwardly.

he is wary of the sprites at least, though he does at one point get so annoyed with the depths of the storm activity around them that he loops to a nearby wreck to find the nearest person and ask: ]

Do you want to work together to get rid of some of these sprites? I can hardly hear myself think with this obnoxious storm.

tea for three

[ winslow's not a plants guy. or, well, not a growing plants guy. he's dealt with plants, dreamlily in particular, though he's never taken part in it himself, just moved it. and this is nothing like that. this is just picking berries, which he's pretty sure he's well-versed enough in to get away with it.

he's managed to not get pricked by any thorns yet, which is nice. or at least he manages it until a vine manages to catch his wrist and prick at his fingers.

when he bleeds though, it's a dull grey and not red or any other normal blood color. it has the same viscosity as blood, but it looks more like watered-down spilled ink or paint than anything else. ]

Oh, damn. Thought I'd get away unscathed today. Not my luck, apparently.


notes

[ character notes here! feel free to roll up with whatever, i'm easy! if you're familiar with eberron, that's where he's from, sharn in particular. feel free to hit me up at tacce if you wanna chat about scene options. ]

Tavern

[madeforradio]

[You know who else has a charming smile. This guy. And he's just at the tavern to people watch because this is all so terribly interesting. He's free from the constraints of hell and poorly crafted deals and wandering about the living while still looking as he is.

All quite curious. Quite fascinating. Best to learn as much as he can about locals and the others that are in a similar predicament as him. He doesn't really expect to be approached or leaned towards. His look alone seems to deter most and he's grateful for that.

Not this man though.

And he turns quick to gaze at the other both recoiling from any further contact while his smile stretches far too wide in greeting.]

My opinion? [He brings a claw to his mouth genuinely thoughtful. Honestly... He's been going and watching and scheming since he got here. The why seems mostly unimportant. He's out of Hell and intends to run with it a bit. But as far as logistics go.] Well. I simply couldn't say. We seem to have all sorts of characters running around here, do we not?

[He places a hand to his chest while his smile stretches impossibly wide.]

Myself, for example, come from the one of the rings of Hell. Alastor is my name and radio is the game. A pleasure to meet you, charmed even!

Wyll Ravengard | Baldur's Gate III | Dryad

[stoneeye]

a new normal (grey ward)—

Truth be told, all three of the portals seemed to beckon him in a way. In the end, it was that fairy ring that he inevitably stepped through, leading him to Grey Ward. It's a familiar feeling, the cobblestones beneath his feet, the variety of humanoid figures meandering about; even the suggestion that he keep his coin purse (if he had one) close made him smile. Some things, even in entirely different worlds, were always the same.

Wyll made his way to the Glass Market with little rush, taking in the scenery and grounding himself to the oddities of the world. The emerald he had arrived with was settled around his wrist with a thin silver chain, for lack of anywhere else to place it.

"It's a fine sword. Crafted by your hand?" He asked the hearty elven weaponsmith with vines tangled around his muscular arms. "A shame I've no bones to spare for such a fine make. I suppose it would be too much to ask for you to hold it for me while I see to some quests?" Puppy eyes and everything. Look at this fuckin guy.

tea for three (dryad)—

Congratulations on being recruited by Wyll Ravengard, Blade of Frontiers™, for a very important mission into the wilds to collect leaves for a... salad? Absolutely not suspicious at all, and Wyll is more than happy to oblige in a task that is seemingly so simple.

He has a bag in hand for collecting the leaves, a sword on his hip [he somehow obtained above? listen] and a smile curving the corners of his mouth as he turns toward his companion.

"Spotted any burrows?" He asked, crouching low to inspect a thicket of bushes. As he did so, a rowdy Woodpertinger hopped out, clearly startled by his sudden appearance at the entrance of their home. "Ah!" and back he fell onto his ass, hurriedly making space. "Wait, wait- we mean you no harm!" Like the thing gave a shit.

the little mermaid—

Well this was an unfortunate set of circumstances, wasn't it? Wyll's suggestion to Ariella was obvious - follow your heart. Don't let anyone else tell you what you must do if it will only assure your misery.

On the other hand though, he knew how difficult it could be to defy family. How painful it would be for her to abandon them even if she was with her true love. They hadn't even spoken to the girl yet, and Wyll was debating so hard wrinkles were starting to crease on his brow, a hand poised to his chin.

"I had thought this quest an easy one at first, but I may have been mistaken..."

the children yearn for the mines (part 1)—

"They can't have vanished." Wyll said, frowning at the now cold trail left behind by the very clearly kidnapped children. He held a small toy in his hand; a wooden doll with a tattered green dress and a crown of straw upon its head; stained from being tossed into the dirt nearby. "We need to keep looking."

the children yearn for the mines

[harrowment]

Shadowheart stood nearby with her arms folded, frowning as Wyll searched the dirt for clues—vainly, it seemed, though she found no joy in the revelation.

"There are creatures of all kinds here," she said in a way that she hoped was gentle, but probably wasn't. "A whole kingdom floating like ancient Netheril. Something could have come down from the sky..."

Snatched up the children. Turned them into children sandwiches.

the ghoul ☢ fallout

[assjerky]

tavern.

This here was some kind of fucked up. The Ghoul didn't know what to make of it. His instincts leaned towards violent methods to get what he wanted (and sometimes just for fun), but it was pretty clear he was at a disadvantage. And not just because he'd been disarmed.

So a switch of tactics. He observed. A glass of whiskey and a dark table in the corner, hat tipped low to obscure his face as much as possible while still allowing him to watch and asborb. Not exactly the picture of approachability, at least until the whiskey loosened something up in him and had him reaching for a deck of cards. He didn't exactly extend an invite, but he was clearly playing one man blackjack.

portals.

Hey quick fucking question: what the fuck were only three of 'em flashing like a fuckin' tarted up stripper at a titty bar?

The Ghoul glowered thoughtfully and temporarily ignored the 3 bright circles in favor of approaching one of the darkened ones. He nudged it with the toe of his boot and canted his head to the side, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did. "Huh." Well. That was interesting. Something to file away for later. He ambled back to the door--which was no longer there.

Didn't that just fuckin' figure.

With a quiet sound of annoyance, the Ghoul wandered back over to the holes, frowning at them one by one, glancing around him at any other poor unfortunate doing the same. "You pickin' that one?" Hope you were set on that, cause he might just shove you in to see what happens. What? You were going in anyway, right? At the very least, he's gonna stand back and watch once the waffling is done before he jumps into a fuckin' glowing hole to whomst-the-fuck knows where.

quest: the children yearn for the mines.

Look, if doing this shit and making money in the process was what got him out of here fastest, so be it. He'd always been real good at making money. Problem was, a fella needed a little more to work with for chasin' down rabid deer or what-the-fuck-ever than his wits and a smile. A lasso. A knife. A gun. He'd settle for a weighty hunk of metal to swing at this point.

Tracking it was then. Something else he was pretty good at. So it was irritating to find that the trail he'd been following just ended abruptly. That didn't sit well with him. Wasn't that it couldn't happen. Was just that the trail had been easy enough to follow this far. He touched the tip of a gloved finger to a broken bit of shrubbery and rose from his crouched position. "I was a paranoid sorta fella I'd say this was bait."

starting at the tavern

[okiedokies]

If he observed long enough, he would eventually see a familiar figure near the Tavernkeeper. She was giving the blue drink in her hand a wary look before she pursed her lips and blew a little stream of air over the white smoke, causing it to billow up. She was still considering what to do when she wrinkled her nose and took a small sip. Almost immediately she was wrinkling her nose but not because it tasted bad. It was more than she hadn't been prepared for the bubbles and the fuzziness.

Lowering her drink, she pressed a knuckle to her nose before chuckling softly to herself. There had been a talk at one point about people drinking to forget their problems and maybe she was deciding to give it a try now. So she stole another sip as she glanced around the bar only to stop at the sight of The Ghoul sitting nearby, her eyes widening in shock.

Then maybe, just maybe, she actually looked relieved too.

bobby briggs / twin peaks

[laxative]

i. it’s better to burn out

‣ the tavern, sharing is caring

( bobby approaches his arrival rather like a feral cat might approach being scooped up and dumped into captivity — scared, pissed off, and ready to fight about it. he doesn’t have questions so much as he has an arsenal of insults and empty threats when he goes to the tavernkeeper. it doesn’t really seem to matter, feels like an argument with his parents or something. it’s just as frustrating, just as futile, and does nothing to cool his boiling blood. even the weird familiarity and comfort this person radiates annoys him.

then the tavernkeeper hits him with the “i know just what you need” and presents what looks like a perfect chocolate milkshake with the works — two straws, cherry on top, all of it — and bobby can only stare in wide-eyed disbelief.

slowly, he reaches forward and takes the mug by its handle, drawing it closer. )

You think this is what I need? ( his voice is soft, but there’s a barely-perceptible tremble in the words that betrays what’s to come.

there’s a second-long pause where he grins in a manic sort of way and runs his tongue over his teeth, and then he's yelling — )

You think you know what I need? How about I show you what I need, huh?

( he takes the mug and dumps it, not bothering to check where he’s pouring it. the narrative cannot express this enough — it’s extremely possible he’s just dumped it in his neighbor’s lap.

he’s smug for all of two seconds — the captive, feral cat that ate the canary, so to speak — until the frosty drink just sort of schlorps back up into the mug.

huh. it wasn’t supposed to do that.

bobby's lost for words as he turns the mug upside down again (potentially over his neighbor’s lap again, sorry neighbor), watching as the contents splatter out and then slurp right back up again. )

What the — ?

ii. than to fade away

‣ choose your destiny

( you know how he was just yelling and dumping drinks five minutes ago? yeah, the endless black void and portals sort of kicked the fight out of bobby, at least for now. he’s standing in stunned silence, fear written plainly on his face.

one of these is supposed to be his new home? yeah, no thanks. there’s no telling what might even happen when they go through.

he notices someone next to him starting to move forward, and reaches out to grab their arm. )

Hey, what are you doing? You can’t just —

( he gestures towards the portal with a “what the hell, are you really gonna walk through? we don’t know what’s on the other side” sort of look. you know the one. )

iii. out of the blue and into the black

‣ questboard

( bobby leans against the questboard like the proverbial cool dude, leather jacket and all. he’s just missing a cigarette — and brother, he’d absolutely murder for one of those right about now.

his expression is sour, but if you’ve seen him around you’ll recognize that this isn’t anything new. )

Don’t tell me you’re really gonna sign up for one of these things, ( he says with a scrunch of his face. ) So their world is dying, so what? Lots of places have it bad. You think they’re gonna come fix all my problems once we’re done here? Yeah, right.

( something about the way he says it seems to imply that he thinks refusing to do quests and, you know, earn a living, is somehow sticking it to the man, so to speak. )

iv. wildcard

( up for p much anything, just lmk. you can pm me here or contact at commodore. also i’ll match prose if you prefer!! )

than to fade away

[roblet]

[ the elf doesn't so much as pause until his arm's grabbed, and when he does stop his head swivels to look at the person that's done it, one eyebrow arching. ]

Have you never portal traveled before? It can be daunting for the unfamiliar and there's little to trust about this place, but we can't very well stay in this tavern forever. There aren't many choices to make here other than which to step through. Portals are much better than just letting your friend pop you to other places with no regard to where you land, anyway.

[ that sounds like it has a backstory. in any case he does soften a little, to note the fear there. ]

Are you from a place very different from this?

steele | changeling: the lost oc | sylph

[summersteel]

I. SIT DOWN, STAY A WHILE

[ Steele, weirdly enough, is not panicking. She's on high alert, of course; suddenly ending up somewhere you previously weren't is, naturally, a cause for concern. But she's also assuming she's in the Hedge, at least at first. It wouldn't be the first time she ended up there accidentally. Weird shit — but honestly, also, same shit, different day.

She only starts to get suspicious when she realizes she can't sense any magic around her, like someone put blinders on her kenning. The tavern keeper, for example, is almost definitely fae — if not Fae — just by looks alone, but Steele can't sense a damn thing off them.

Her hands shake, and the panic that wasn't there before starts to bubble up; she swallows hard, suppressing the instinctive anger that comes with it. She looks around, her eyes catching on the closest person reaching out to take a drink off the bar. ]

Hey — you're not going to drink that, are you?

[ She sounds alarmed. Drinking or eating anything in the Hedge when you don't know what it is? Terrible idea. ]

II. CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY (heaven's bow)

What the fuck—

[ — is what comes out of Steele's mouth when her feet take her toward the exit of the tavern as if they have a mind of their own. Okay, yeah, this shit is absolutely Fae manipulation. New home? Fuck that, she wants to go back to her old home.

Right now, though, it doesn't look like she gets a choice. She folds her arms tightly, examining the three portals in front of her. Each one intriguing in its own right — though she'd expect nothing less if the Others are trying to tempt them to go through.

Without thinking about it, she's started walking toward door number one — and stepped through before she realizes it and has a chance to go back.

Anyone else would be astounded at the sight in front of them — in fact, Steele herself is caught off guard for a few moments. It's beautiful, a city soaring among the clouds... but in Arcadia, which is where she assumes she is now, this kind of beauty is often a façade over something much uglier.

She feels a weight in her hand, and looks down to see a gemstone there — a milky white opal, shimmering with rainbow iridescence. Huh. It distracts her, at least momentarily, from thinking about when her Keeper is inevitably going to come after her. ]

Did you get one of these too?

[ This directed at a person nearby who seems to have come through the portal after her. ]

III. QUESTBOARD (graveyard in the sky)

[ So. Go out, collect ten bear asses (not literally ten bear asses), come back, turn them in, get paid. Is this a video game?

At least, that's what Steele thought when she first read the questboard. Now — as she's out in a literal airship graveyard, staring down what looks like a very unfriendly wind sprite indeed — she's pretty sure this is not, in fact, a video game. ]

Got any idea of how to fight these things?

[ If she thought she could just punch them, that would make it easy. ]

IV. WILDCARD

[ Got another idea? Hit me with it! ]

sit down, stay a while.

[moonwitchery]

( athénaïs's hand is lingering on the glass in front of her — fingers a mixture of violet and milk-white, light on its edge. she's been studying it when steele's voice interrupts her,

rather more ordinarily than she's become accustomed to being interrupted, if she's honest. this is all a bit of a fucking worry, isn't it? she's woken up, not for the first time, somewhere she doesn't understand and didn't intend to be. someone has offered her something to drink that she probably shouldn't take, and she isn't completely sure of the way forward. it is also not so unusual that when presented with someone else's obvious agitation at all of these deeply agitating developments, it is her instinct to level out.

balance. calm. it's not that this isn't a situation that merits panic, it's just—

habit. )

I admit, I was tempted, ( because it's true, even if she knows better. even if she might not have done it.

might have. still might, actually, although it seems like a quick way to stirring up her new companion unnecessarily— )

Dion Lesage | Final Fantasy XVI | Sylph

[lightundying]

I. Tavern

[Quicksand is hardly the most appetizing drink he's ever heard of. It calls to mind Dhalmekian dunes, and the drink's consistency is only marginally less awful than it sounds. Still, the liquid such as it is, does taste considerably better and has the added benefit of slowing his mind despite the apparent lack of spirits. Given this seems to be his afterlife however, Dion finds he has little cause to question it.

Instead, he feels something dangerously approaching peaceful, and allows his eyes to wander where they will. He has yet to recognize anyone by face or dress, but perhaps that is a mercy after all]


II. Heaven's Bow - Docks

The view was breathtaking and Dion stood in awe of it. Clouds for miles, spilled over by natural sunlight so abundant that it was difficult to believe this was a world courting death itself. Airships like the ones he'd read about in stories about the Fallen drifted to and from the docks whilst shadows of flying creatures made up the horizon. The part of him that had always had wings yearned to join them, if only Bahamut's light still answered his call.

Dion stepped up to an empty dock, hands alighting on a fence rail.

"This feels a dream."


III. QUEST - Tea for Three

[Finding himself with an inordinate amount of free time and a pair of gauntlets more than suited to the task, Dion marches out to Dusklight armed with a pair of empty sacks. A sense of unreality lingers as he crouches among the bushes, prying berries from their thorns- one more difficult to shunt aside with only a mundane task at hand.

He casts about for distraction and finds one in another nearby soul]

This is going to take considerably longer than I first thought.

II

[squidzure]

Estinien is wandering the markets when he sees someone standing at the docks, a look he can only describe as wonder on the man's face. He debates pausing, but something about the way he stands and the armor he's wearing piques his curiosity.

"There's a similar place where I come from. Even so, it's nothing quite like this."

orym of the air ashari | critical role | sylph

[orym]

i. tavern (sharing is caring)

[ This honestly sucks. Orym is far from unsympathetic to the plight of a world on the brink of calamity, and normally he'd want to help, given the choice. But he was already busy saving his own when whoever brought here apparently decided this was more important, so he'd consider the timing--and his own lack of agency in that decision--pretty fucking callous. Leaving him without his sword and shield, too, is pretty unforgivable in his book. Beyond their utility, their sentimental value to him is irreplaceable.

He doesn't intend to stay long in the tavern, but this seems like a good place to ask around and gather some information, see if the others here are in a similar situation. Find out what the options are for doing something about it. He orders a drink, something cool and sweet; the glass is tall, and he'd probably have a hard time finishing it on his own even if it didn't seem to magically replenish itself every time he manages to drink down to about the halfway point.

It's a good excuse to talk to someone, at least--and someone without a drink in front of them at a nearby table seems like a good place to start. Used to being small in a world designed for people roughly twice his size, the way he navigates the bar is natural and fluid, though probably has equally as much to do with the natural grace he possesses, earned through years of training and conditioning. He slides the drink onto the table first, then nudges an empty chair with his foot, getting the other person's attention (down here) before he speaks. ]

Hey, this is gonna sound weird, but--do you want to split this with me? [ There's a gentle husk to his voice, and he's fairly soft-spoken, but with a sort of quiet confidence that says he rarely feels the need to raise his voice to be heard. ] It's good, but I've had a lot already, and I noticed you didn't have a drink yet.

ii. heaven's bow

[ He's Air Ashari, a Tempest Blade. His home is atop the Summit Peaks; he grew up among the clouds. How could he not be drawn to a cloud city? ]

a. guild house
[ It makes sense to him to first figure out what he's actually going to be expected to do here, and this seems to be the place for that. More than a little irritating, though, when he's presented with options that sound like something he could do--something he'd be good at, even--if he wasn't missing the necessary tools to fight and defend himself. A new opal earring is fine (if also a little bittersweet for other reasons), but it doesn't really do much for him. ]

Not much use on a quest without a weapon.

[ This comment is made mostly to himself in frustration as he stares up (and up) at the quest board, but he'd honestly welcome commiserating with someone else about it. Notably, he's wearing head-to-toe leather armor apart from his bare right arm, which is extensively tattooed; a prominent scar on his face, three claw marks dragging down over his right eye, prove he's no stranger to battle. The way he moves and looks around and holds himself is equally telling, to a trained eye who can distinguish someone with martial skill and plenty of experience using it. ]

b. skyfall docks
[ After he's spent hours more exploring the city, Orym finds himself back at the docks just as the sun is beginning to set. He stands right there on the end of small pier, looking out at the horizon and the world below with no visible fear of the lethal drop just inches from his toes. In fact, buffeted by a near-constant breeze and surrounded by clouds, he's remarkably relaxed. He doesn't have to turn around to know that someone else has joined him. ]

Amazing view, isn't it? Kind of reminds me of home. [ Which stings, honestly, especially without the familiar grounding weight of Seedling and his shield on his back. He half turns, looking up (probably) at his new companion. It's hard to tell who's from here and who's like him, so he he asks, ] Do you live here?

iii. questboard: mother of pearl

[ Oyster mucking is, at least, something he can do without a weapon. He's incredibly perceptive, which helps him spot oysters in the salty tide-flats mud. The problem is stepping in to retrieve them. Taller people have to wade in up to their knees, maybe even their hips; for him it's somewhere between his elbows and his shoulders. He doesn't mind getting dirty, but even he's going to get exhausted quickly if he has to fight for every step like that. ]

There's one a couple steps to your left, about eight o'clock. Just--yeah, that one.

[ He calls out to another prospective pearl-collector who doesn't seem to have had much luck yet--and is, and this is key, tall and sturdy enough that it seems like they could reasonably carry him around for a while. He's compact and fairly light, but when wading through the mud, extra weight is still extra weight. ]

I've got pretty good eyes. If you'd be okay with me sitting on your shoulders, we could team up.

iv. questboard: dirty business

[ A bag half-full of dirt hangs from his belt. Kneeling, he scoops up another fistfull, letting it sift carefully from between his fingers into the open drawstring of the bag. But that isn't his primary objective: he's small and quiet enough to make him a good candidate for getting close to the owlbear nest and snagging a few feathers, too. They don't want to fight the creatures, but alerting them to their presence would also be a bad idea.

Decisively, he tightens his bag's drawstring so what he's collected so far won't spill, and turns to his companion, leaning close to be heard at a bare whisper. ]

Can you watch my back? Maybe make some noise further away if I fuck up? I'll try and grab a few for both of us.

notes

[ orym is a halfling, so he's about 3'3", but very clearly a grown man despite his height. he's also a battlemaster fighter (dexterity-based) by dnd 5e standards, and i've got some general info on him here. also, i usually prefer to write in prose, so i'm happy to swap styles if that's your preference too. if you have any questions or would like a custom starter, feel free to drop me a pm! you're also more than welcome to just wildcard, i'm open to any of the prompts here or on the questboard. ]

skyfall docks, b.

[moonwitchery]

( the lessening light is enough that athénaïs is beginning to consider removing the veil she'd secured at either temple in her hair; dark, translucent fabric, torn to purpose but almost certainly not originally intended for it. a drow, at least two feet taller than he is, rather less ... naturally at home in their new surroundings. and they are new to her, too— )

For now, apparently.

( granted, there are worse places to end up. she's ended up in several of them in recent memory. the city, so evocative of ancient netheril, is unmistakably beautiful,

though given the tales of ancient netheril, it does feel a litle uncomfortably hubristic. just conceptually. there's probably no need to examine if that plays any role in why she had been so drawn to its portal in the first place, don't worry about it.

a beat later: ) Athénaïs Tavarys. I take it you're likewise a transplant?

keyleth of the air ashari 🍃 critical role 🍃 ainmhian crau

[zephrah]

tavern 🍃 a spot of courage

One would think after her experience in the Feywild Keyleth wouldn't have just picked up whatever drink was offered to her and sipped it, but it had been a very long time since she'd been able to cut loose and be a little reckless that all caution was unceremoniously yeeted to the wind. It proved just as unfortunate a choice for the person sitting near her as it did for her, as she found herself leaning over and saying "Hi! I'm Keyleth, and I'm afraid I'll end up angry bitter and lonely for the rest of my thousand year long life!" The regret, she is instant! Keyleth pressed a hand over her mouth and turned a rather impressive shade of pink in embarrassment. "I am. So sorry. It usually takes way more than a sip for me to get that drunk. I mean I don't feel drunk. I mean, it's probably magic. I mean--so, so sorry. Please forget I said that."

portals 🍃 heaven's bow

"Oh! That looks a little like home!" As if the winds themselves carried her to it, Keyleth bounded over to the cloud-covered portal and peered in, beaming with excitement at the drifting clouds. "Well, home is in the mountains, not actually in the sky, but that's just even more exciting! Are you picking this one too? Here," she offered her hand, "Do you want to go together?"

Once in the city, she headed straight for the docks, leaning over a railing to watch the skyships come and go, for a little while, even meandering through the market and finding herself fascinated by all of the trinkets--some that looked so much like things from home. Eventually, though, the call of exploration was too hard to resist, and in typical Keyleth fashion, she found herself in a casino.

And found herself in the process of being evicted from the casino on suspicion of cheating. "Why, why does this always happen to me," she lamented, holding her hands up as she was escorted to the door. "Guys, really! I swear, this is a misunderstanding! I wasn't cheating! I couldn't cheat even if I tried!"

tea for three 🍃 sky quest edition

Keyleth was always interested in learning about new plants and animals, and cloudberries were a new one. She hummed softly to herself as she harvested the mostly with some skill and ease, but her thumb grazed a thorn and she slipped up in her quick efficient plucking; the branches wrapped around her wrist, almost like they wanted more blood out of her.

"Ow, ow ow ow, okay," she babbled, trying to gently tug her hand out without breaking any of the branches. "Let go please! Dammit, come on!" This would be so much easier if she could still, you know, do her druid shit.

[stoneeye]

Heeding the warning on the parchment, Wyll had managed to obtain a pair of gloves from a farmer down in the dryad region (fully intending to return them later!) for this particular quest. It assured an extra layer of protection from the cloudberries thorns, and could be removed easily if need be.

All that to say, he was doing well gathering the berries without issue. And would have continued doing so if he hadn't heard the distressed cries of the woman nearby. Without hesitating, he hurried over to investigate, eyes wide.

"It's all right. No need to fret. Here-" He said as he approached, expression shifting to something more reassuring and hands reaching out to gingerly grasp the branches. "Pull your hand free on three. Ready?" And he would lift accordingly, fingers set between thorns and a prayer uttered that none would wrap around him next.

aerith gainsborough (ffvii remake, dryad)

[floresco]

– i. grey ward, glass market

[ No stranger to the shadowy parts that make up any city, it’s almost the least surprising part of this whole experience – when she catches sight of a pickpocket less than a yard away, angling themselves to lift something out of the pocket of another person wandering the Glass Market. Her lips pursed in a determined line, Aerith makes a snap decision, breaking from the shuffle of the crowd to surge forward, putting herself between the stranger and the pickpocket before greeting the former like an old friend. ]

There you are!

[ Both of Aerith’s arms loop around the would-be theft victim, grinning at them cheerfully even as her verdant eyes glance pointedly to the side as if to draw attention to the shady figure still lingering close by, seemingly trying to regroup and decide their next move. ]

I found the shop you were looking for, come on, I think they’re open for a little while longer.

[ Ever the optimist, Aerith figures even if they don’t catch wind that she’s trying to be helpful, and shake her off, at least she still helped. ]

– ii. quest: tea for three (dryad)

[ Getting to appease her curiosity and explore the local flora simultaneously made the trek for Mary Katherine’s salad greens seem like an almost fun choice, something Aerith would be inclined to do, even without the promise of payment. More than that, there’s something familiar and nice about finding the local job board and picking up a task or two to endear herself to the locals – it’s how things work back home, after all.

Aerith sticks to the directions she’s been given, reaching the nearest woodpertinger burrow without too much issue, though her progress halts swiftly as, when she approaches, she has to dart to the side to get out of the way of two other people in pursuit of salad as they flee the forested knolls the burrows are situated in, trailed by a swarm of angry-looking woodpertingers.

Eyes wide as she watches them, she hesitates for a moment before looking back at the glade she’s been seeking, spotting the yellow flowers, and, thankfully, no lingering woodpertingers. Since there’s no telling how long it’ll be until they’re all back, she takes her chances, picking up a discarded bag before hastily beginning to get to work foraging, barely lifting her head from her work when she hears the sound of someone else approaching the clearing. ]

Better be quick. [ She warns the new arrival in a quiet, careful voice. ] The woodpertingers are not going to be happy when they get home.

– iii. quest: death wish coffee co

Well, hello there!

[ One would think, given the brightness in her tone, that Aerith makes a habit out of conversing with moths, but after the one that alights on her shoulder starts cozily chewing through the fabric of her jacket, it’s clear she’s as clueless as any other new arrival. Hands fluttering in a vain effort to shoo the creature off, the moth on her shoulder appears completely undaunted, maybe even eating away at her clothing a little faster as if to assert dominance over the situation.

Determined not to get bested by a big bug, Aerith doesn’t stop trying to swat it away, even as she dashes closer to the cave and thus further into moth country, set on obtaining at least a handful of the coffee fruits that brought her out here in the first place.

It’s not the worst idea she’s ever had, but it proves faulty after a second moth joins the first – this one settling on her other shoulder to get in on the obviously delicious jacket its kin’s already been enjoying.

Laden with pockets full of coffee fruit and two hungry moths for epaulettes, Aerith turns to go, telling herself that as long as she gets far enough away from the cave soon, the moths aren’t likely to turn around – and promptly damn near loses a shoe thanks to a third moth clinging to the side of her boot, eating through her laces unnoticed. ]

Hey! [ She sounds harried but relieved, the sound of footsteps pulling her attention towards someone else who clearly also saw the notice on the questboard and came to gather coffee. ] Can you help me get these things off? I can’t hop the whole way back to town! [ Given how loose her boot feels, she may end up hopping back anyway. ]

– iv. wildcard

[ or choose chaos and drop a wildcard based on any of the other prompts, or feel free to send a dm if you'd like to plot something specific/have any questions. always happy to match tagging format. ]

[madeforradio]

[It's not often that Alastor is taken by surprise. But the sudden contact, friendly conversation and leading him towards some unknown destination has him uttering actual static.

The sound of dials is audible as he comes to terms with this series of events and eventually utters a laugh, just a touch unhinged, ears twitching. He lacks any of his powers or he'd have slunk into the shadows by now or perhaps simply just devoured this young lady but as it is...

He must play along!]

Is that so?

[The words come out with just with a bit of that old television static and strained but ever with that pleasant radio host flair.]

Aymeric de Borel || Final Fantasy XIV || Seasons CRAU || Dryad

[borelblue]

((Paragraphs preferred, but I'll match.))
i. Tavern (open)

Aymeric awoke with a start, shocked to wake up somewhere other than the home he'd made in Ellipsa. It would seem that, like some of the acquaintances he'd had there, he was due to travel to several other strange worlds before returning to his own. That wouldn't bother him so much if he weren't worried about being separated from his wife, Night Sky.

As Aymeric looked over the assembling crowd in the main floor of the tavern, he didn't see her characteristic antlers out and about. But from the looks of things, they were still people coming downstairs - and that he was among some of the first to be brought here to boot. There was still hope of finding Night Sky. His first instinct was to wait near the stairs for her - but if he truly was to arrive before her, perhaps he could work on establishing himself in this world, so she could join in on a more solid foundation.
And thus, Aymeric made his way through the room, aided in loosening up his worries and his tongue by the drink that the Tavern Keeper was happy to provide. His eyes, however, often returned to the stairs...

ii. Tavern/Portals (closed to wildwarden)

For a mercy, Aymeric was not left without his wife for long. Just as he was eyeing the way to the portals, he saw her antlers, her wild thick hair, her glowing green eyes, through the crowd. His drink finished and forgotten, he stood and made his way to her, never looking away as he navigated through chairs and other bodies.

"Night Sky! Night Sky, my love. I am here," he said to her, reverence and relief in his voice.

iii. Quest: Farmer's Market Friction

This one didn't seem so bad - keeping the peace wasn't so far off from his duties as a Temple Knight. His sword's presence would be missed at his hip, but ideally he wouldn't have need of a weapon, anyway. Having signed up for all five days of the market, Aymeric arrived for peacekeeping duty bright and early, assuming he was ready for anything.

Unfortunately, he was not ready for a Gourdmill grandmother.

A sweet little old lady turned into a furious warrior when she heard someone refer to Mount Gourd by another name. She began chasing the offending young man down the street, swinging her purse at his head and screaming profanities.

"Madam, madam! Please!" Aymeric cried as he began chasing after her.

He wasn't too far behind, but given the old woman's Righteous Fury, maybe he still shouldn't face Granny Gourdmill alone.

iv. Counting Sheep (closed to squidzure)

Despite the fact that they'd all been sucked into yet another new world, Aymeric was pleased that he, his wife, and his best friend were still all together. Silver linings, and all that. A small smile tugged his lips when he wasn't paying attention.

With Estinien's lingering familiarity with livestock, the two of them decided to tackle the "Counting Sheep" quest. They stood at the edge of the field, watching a few of the beasts mill about. How they managed to move with such a bulk of fleece growing about them, Aymeric couldn't fathom.

"Is there one that catches your eye?" he asked quietly.

v. Wildcard

(Have another idea? Put it forward and we'll see where we get.)

The hole made for me

[wildwarden]

Night Sky had awoken in the world sometime after Aymeric, surprisingly unpanicked by the revelation that she was alone and without the familiar warmth of her beloved. Odd things happened to Night Sky - and even after spending over a year in Ellipsa where less weird things happened, she could not bring herself to freak out over it. Yet.

By the time she came downstairs and truly realized she was not amongst any familiar faces, however, the fear was finally starting to swell in her chest. Wherever she was now - he was not here. Was he still in Ellipsa? Had he gone back home? She could not say which was worse and the more she thought about it, the more frantic she became. What if she forgot while she was in this strange world? Her magic was clearly gone already, ripped away while she slept. Her memories could go next-

- oh. Nevermind. Night Sky perked up at the sound of his voice, waiting for him to part the crowd to her so they didn't end up colliding. Whatever worries she had were whisked away with the familiar sight of him, even if his eyes were clearly full of worry for her.

"Of course you are, sweetness." She murmured, not quite loud enough for him to hear. "You would never leave me." And she reached out, ready to leap up into his arms. Crowd be damned.

Ro Strand | D&D/Exandria OC | undine

[moontied]

Sit, Stay a While

Ro is still reeling, still apprehensive after the last time he suddenly found himself in a world not quite his own. So far there aren't any hollow-eyed children, at least.

What choice does he have but to learn more? The Tavernkeeper, though forthcoming, is also rather cryptic. Ro breathes a quiet sigh when the Tavernkeeper gives their title rather than a name, but maybe he should have known better. He's about to slide off the bar stool he's perched on when they say I know just waht you need, before sliding a drink to him.

Ro waits until the keeper's back is turned before he cautiously sniffs the drink, then takes a tiny taste. Alcoholic, certainly, but he can't detect anything unexpectedly bitter or otherwise indicative of any poisons he knows. He supposes it could be heavily drugged with something he doesn't know, but--well. Unhelpful as they've been, they haven't been unkind. Ro takes the drink and takes a more confident sip.

[ooc: I feel like this one depends on context so if you'd like a more specific starter for People Skills, A Spot of Courage, or Sex on the Beach, just let me know! You can tag in with the request or PM.]

A New Normal: Salt Spire

Salt Spire Library
"This... this is from Emon. Wait, how do you have something from--"

The librarian only shushes him and Ro clenches his jaw. He tells himself that it's nothing to do with the fact that he is roughly the size of a child and everything to do with the fact that he did raise his voice. But he doesn't understand how there could be a book from the world he knows here, and apparently he won't be getting an explanation for that or for the lack of Calderan histories.

"How are we supposed to save a world we know nothing about?" he mumbles, louder than he needs to, as he stalks back into the stacks. He holds onto the novel and starts to pay more attention as he searches through shelves. The problem is, at just under three and a half feet tall, most of them are out of his reach.

"Hey, could you grab that book for me?" Ro asks - softly and politely - to the next person he sees in the stacks. He gestures at a book on a shelf that would be about eye-level for an average human.

"Actually, wait - would you hold these and keep a lookout? I think I can get higher but I don't think the librarians will be amused if they catch me."


Shimmer Quarter
Ro finds his way to the healers and apothecaries in the Shimmer Quarter like--well. A fish to the sea. He spends hours talking to anyone who will talk to him. The afternoon finds him with one of the apothecaries in their shop, sitting on a ladder as a make-shift stool, so that he can pay attention to what he's being shown. Someone has given him a little notebook to write in and he barely looks up as he takes down everything he's told.

The apothecary excuses themself when the little bell over the door rings. Ro stays at the counter and starts sketching the plants that are laid out, careful to label them. He's drawing a complete blank on one of them - he hadn't written down a name before he jotted down the description. When a shadow falls over the counter, he breathes a sigh.

"What's this one again--oh, sorry. I thought you were the apothecary."


Standard Home
Ro checks the address on the slip of paper he got upon arriving in the city. He was told that he could find somewhere to stay there, a roof over his head while he settles in. The door isn't locked when he arrives, so he lets himself in.

"Hello?" he calls out, waiting to hear if there's an echo or a response. "Has anyone moved in yet?"

Maybe he'll get first dibs on a room.

Questboard

Farmer's Market Friction
"You're right, just ridiculous and probably inconsiderate. But look at it this way - it doesn't matter to you at all, right? Not the gourds, not the people who grow them, not anything. You just have to make it through this competition and no matter what someone is going to love what you made."

Somehow, he keeps his voice from sounding too strained as he talks down his fourth or fifth homemade jam- or- jelly-maker down in two days. A minute ago she was saying, very loudly, that she was going to smash up the dozen or so jars of pumpkin butter on display several tables down.

"I don't suppose you make anything fermented...?"


Mother of Pearl
This, at least, is something Ro is familiar with and generally good at. He has a satchel to fill with whatever oysters or clams he can find and he's managed to get something resembling an oyster knife someone in the Bluetide Market.

He wades into the shallows, accepting that he's probably going to be in water up to is hips at some point. For now, he stays in water knee-deep and feels around carefully with his bare feet until he finds something to dig up and toss into his satchel. If he stops thinking too hard, he can imagine he's home again, spread out along the shoreline with his siblings.

After nearly an hour, he takes his now-heavy bag further onto the shore. Hearing a shell smashing against a stone, he looks up.

"Do you want help with that? Even if there's not a pearl, the inside of the shell might have mother-of-pearl."

Maybe that won't be worth anything to the person seeking pearls for their anniversary, but Ro has to imagine it'll be valuable to someone.

Wildcard/Notes

[I'll match your style! I default to prose but if you prefer brackets go for it. Ro will be all around Salt Spire and he'll probably explore Grey Ward and Heaven's Bow, especially the taverns.

Ro is an adult halfling, standing about 3'4"; more info here; feel free to PM with questions.]

Salt Spire Library

[thesunreturns]

One of the things that growing up in the Summerlands means is that Simon does know beings of different height, though most fae races are human sized. So while he might do a double-take to confirm that the man in front of him is not a human child, he stops what he is doing to talk.

"I'd offer an illusion if I had them," he said. "But I can manage a lookout."

His own projects can wait. He is curious what this man is going to do.