Milnors Ford.   Posted by Master of Tales.Group: 0
Master of Tales
 GM, 7 posts
Sat 31 Oct 2020
at 18:44
Milnors Ford
Milnor's ford sits on the river, Wassende South, just before it splits again.

The river is just deep enough to allow merchant barges to travel up and down the river. Well at least in seasonal times. the river is shallow in the winter and any barges that don't make it down from Vaxandi are stuck till the spring thaw.

Milnor's ford is largely a hub of commerce. the warehouse district in the northeast. and on the northwest the rich merchant lords elaborate estates. either side littered with taverns, inns, shops, residential, mostly anything you could ever want.

it is the peak of summer and the city is packed full.

the crowning glory of the city is the mages' tower. the dark stone building towers over the city. the tower is older than any other building, even the walls.
Magus Sarifina
 NPC, 1 post
Sun 1 Nov 2020
at 03:32
Milnors Ford
Sarifina walks across the courtyard of the tower. followed by a cluster of folks. " what is the update?"

A short female elf replies. " The news from Vaxande is not good Magus. it has been completely overrun. this horde that comes from the other side of the Napati Mountains"

"the same for Eorkorti" piped in a  dwarfen male. " the news from the northern towns are filled with many stories of refugees."

Sarifina stops in her tracks. " but are there any facts as to what exactly this horde is? if we are to send anyone out there we must know what it is"

"perhaps first we should send out a scouting party." the short elf replies.

"there may not be time. send a proclamation to all ends of the realm. this threat all ready took down the two largest cities in the area, we must gather the best and met this head-on. I will speak with the Archmage immediately."

OOC every one can post their first impressions

A. The news that the cities have been taken over by some unknown entity.
B. The call to Arms
C. their decisions to answer the call
D. the first impressions in entering the city.

or what have you.

Ingrid the Warmaiden
 player, 6 posts
Sun 1 Nov 2020
at 05:34
Milnors Ford
Ingrid stands down by the waterfront, her tall amazonian form leering over one of the many street-side stalls that line the sandy-textured buildings on either side of the South Wassende.  The city was abuzz with activity, but for the meager peasants and tradesmen until the walls were besieged there was still coin to be made, and so the various stores and food carts under the vibrant-colored awnings remain open.

With a bit of drool beading at the corner of her mouth, the blonde warrior flexes and curls her fingers in a groping gesture as she leans over a rack of fresh confectionery; springy dough balls made with eggs likely gathered from the various hens currently pecking at crumbs by her feet, deep fried and filled with jam before being dusted with sugar and skewered.  Nearby, the proprietress of the stall was deep in conversation with another middle-aged housewife gossiping about the word from up north, a dialogue which breezed through Ingrid's ears and out the other side.  Unlike the foreign highlander, however, the shopkeeper was used to paying attention to her surroundings and without looking smacks the knuckles of Ingrid's hands with the back of her oily ladle without even needing to look.

"No samples!" she snaps at Ingrid, who pouts childishly while massaging her reddened fingers.  However, bereft of any coin the swordswoman had no choice but to move on, making note of the stall for later while the chickens dodged her boots and then swarmed the crumbs previously hidden by her feet.

Ingrid sighs, eyes closed as she paced upstream along the canal.  She cared little for the fears and politics of war.   She was the Warmaiden, a self proclaimed title but one she took seriously; she feared no battle nor death,  but rather feared a life lived in reservation and regret.  She wouldn't be able to enjoy the dessert again if she started a fight back there, and they just smelled soooooo good Ingrid knew she wouldn't be able to stop at just one and they were always better fresh.  Thus, such pleasures would have to wait until the outlander was flush with coin.

Opening her eyes, Ingrid looks down the cross street to her side where the high peaks of the Mages Tower stand resplendent against the summer sky despite the brooding clouds in the distance to the side of it.  They were not storm clouds, as far as she could tell.   Ingrid had arrived only recently, traveling up the river following her stomach and other appetites with the intent to savor all the land had to offer.   She had been on route to Eorkorti when westward ships abruptly canceled, given the news of the horde's descent from the mountains.   She didn't mind, but with her ravenous nature her finances were now completely dried up.  If something didn't change soon, she might actually go hungry.

That was where she drew the line.  Looking over her shoulder, Ingrid makes sure her long and rugged sword is still in its sheath before patting her stomach and marching towards the Mages Tower.  There was no way the Warmaiden was going to let this city fall until she had stuffed herself silly with jelly donuts, and there was always coin to be had in her craft...
 player, 3 posts
Sun 1 Nov 2020
at 15:06
Milnors Ford
A buzz was in the area.  Messengers and refugees traveling the roads with what they could carry.  Migration like this was quite common among animals when territories were encroached, and the people from two cities suggested a conflict instead of a disaster.  It was not his concern, though, until the call for help came.  It was not the usual infighting.  Conflict inside the region kept the people strong and safe.  Much like a younger animal fighting for respect amongst its peers, this was the natural way of the world.  But this was different.  An invading force coming from another territory.  Caedwen decided that this was not the natural order, and that he would stand with his pack.  With tooth and claw he would preserve the balance of his lands.

Caedwen enters the city, clearly uncomfortable as he has not set food in such a settlement in countless seasons.  The activity and smells are overwhelming, as are the sights of people so unfit for survival.  These are not simple farmers scraping by for a living, these are corpulent merchants and people of wealth.  These are thieves, vultures waiting for an opportunity to scavenge.  A frown crosses the face of the elf, hidden behind an oddly hirsute beard.  His antlers draw the gaping attention of passersby, though this is nothing unusual in his life.  The aroma of his leathers, made heavy by the high sun, tell a tale of woods, blood, and the hunt.  This city of brick and stone is not his land.  The tavern, however, is a luxury Caedwen does not mind.  The Hart and Hearth welcomes the stranger in with open arms, accepting coin for ale.
 player, 4 posts
Sun 1 Nov 2020
at 15:42
Milnors Ford
"This is what I have to resort to..." The thin elf gives a heavy sigh. "Forced to sell my talents just to afford a place to sleep." Galadiir shakes his head, thinking about the string of accidents that led to his expulsion from Eldantien's guild... followed by him leaving in anger, and heading all the way to Milnors Ford to join their tower. A foolish decision, as he had no letter of recommendation to assure his acceptance, nor enough money to survive while he proved himself.

At least, an opportunity presented itself. With the tower offering mercenary work, he could deal with both of his problems at the same time, even if it meant doing a task that is obviously below his station. Plus, perhaps he would manage to make sense of the vision he'd had of a dark-skinned holy warrior in battle...

With these thoughts, the wizard failed to pay attention to his surroundings, to the point that he failed to notice the muscular woman in his way. He collides with her violently, sending him sprawling to the floor. "Ouf! Terribly sorry, madam... I hope I didn't hurt you..." A misplaced concern, as the warmaiden didn't even feel the impact...
Istvan Vanoson
 player, 9 posts
Sun 1 Nov 2020
at 16:21
Re: Milnors Ford

Everywhere he went, Istvan was hearing everyone speak very anxiously about some sort of horde that had overrun two major cities.

If it came from the other side of the mountains, and came this way, and one city hadn't been enough... wouldn't this horde keep coming, until it was here?

He was, of course, not the only person to whom this line of thinking had occurred.

Istvan knew that the first step was to get information... and that would mean conflict.

He headed to the wizard's tower, asking anyone on the way who looked like they had any authority who he should talk to about helping, and where he could find them. He felt sure that someone would give him the answers to both questions before he actually arrived at the tower...

This message was last edited by the player at 16:22, Sun 01 Nov 2020.