Re: Day 1
Mayon - what you know of magical plagues in general is that they do exist, but you're not sure who or what causes them. The ignorant are often quick to blame plagues on evildoers, fell magic, or superstition though, and magical plagues are less frequent than natural ones.
I'm going to post Jak entering the tavern to keep things moving along - but feel free to post catch-up actions and stuff before entering.
Jak finds the tavern almost directly across the street. It is not much to look at from the outside - a ramshackle two-story tavern, with rusty metal grills covering its small, dirty windows. The name of the tavern, The Helm at Highsun, is clearly printed in large, simple letters on both sides of a jutting wooden sign. Above the sign is a rusting, oversized adornment: a warrior's bucket helm with two eye slits.
Entering with whatever companions accompany him, Jak finds a large, dimly lit taproom with wood-paneled walls. He pauses a few beats to take in the surroundings.
The place is packed full of diners, drinkers, and loiterers, as well as a couple servers who busy themselves bringing food and drink to patrons. There still remain several empty tables here and there, however. Also, an open-tread wooden staircase leads up to a second floor, which looks as dim and darkly paneled as the taproom but which promises more room.
Across the back wall is a long bar with three copper candle-lanterns hanging over it. A jovial man stands behind the bar, busily handing out drinks and laughing at patrons' jests. Another man, rotund and with a slight frown on his face, stands behind the bar.
A few patrons sit at the bar itself. Among them, a short older man sits listening to a thin man speaking to him animatedly. Squinting, Jak thinks the latter has some white flour on his face and clothes.
A large, burly man is seated at a table not far away, eating dinner and drinking water from a cup. His four companions, large men and women themselves, seem absorbed mostly in their meals, though they occasionally exchange words with each other or look around the tavern.
The rest of the patrons look like farmers just passing through town, though one group stands out. Covered in what looks like grey dust, they sit at a table away from the bar. Each of them has a set of tools of some kind around their belts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:25, Thu 27 Oct 2016.