05-05-2018, 09:01 PM
The port of Badon was unlike much of the Lycian Empire. As a place of business, no one really cared where one was from or one’s beliefs. Only two questions mattered: do you have the money? Are you worth the money? Anyone who couldn’t answer in the affirmative to either had no business in Badon. Because of its focus on trade and business (and the money it brings in), the Lycian Empire had been more lenient on the city than the rest of the country. Not even a church was present.
It made Father Terran squirm just to set foot into town. The sin was everywhere!
Moreso when he stepped foot into Davros Inn. It reeked of smoke, liquor, and the unholy activities between men and women. The holy man clenched his body tightly, as if afraid to touch anything. Yet the Church demanded his presence there. The task that needed to be done could not be done by a priest. They needed a devil.
Wratt waved the priest over to his booth. As Terran sat down upon the sticky seat, his face scrunched up in discomfort. Wratt laughed loudly at the priest’s predicament. They both knew Wratt could laugh because of his success in his last few jobs. Not many mercenaries would work for the empire. Fewer that wouldn’t demand a small fortune for a job. Even fewer that would do the job well. Wratt Cervant, for all his misdeeds, got the job done. And if he didn’t, well, he wasn’t someone the Church would miss much.
“What’s the matter? Afraid a little sin will rub on you? That you might like it?” Wratt smiled as he took a sip of his ale.
“Can we please just get on with this?”
“Alright, alright,” Wratt put his mug down. “What’s the job this time?”
“Are you familiar with the island of Valor?”
“Dread Isle? That’s that foggy island sailors get superstitious about.”
“Yes, well, we need you to go there and find something.”
“Of course you do,” Wratt replied, rubbing his beard. Not many would sail to Dread Isle. Only the stupid would step foot on it. Stories of disappearing fleets were still told to this day. Apparently, they didn’t just spook the locals.
“Legend speaks of a Dragon’s Gate. At the end of the Scouring, the last dragons used it to escape our world and enter another. There are…accounts…that they could return through the same way.”
“This isn’t some ‘get the thing’ mission. This is a ‘bring the explosives’ mission.”
“Precisely,” Terran nodded. “Make sure legend stays legend. It is unholy ground. Burn the ruins to the ground if you have to.”
“Sounds like a job for multiple people. Lots of explosives, supplies to get across the island, a ship to get us there.”
“The Empire will compensate you and your crew handsomely, as usual. We would need you to start immediately.”
“Well, hold your horses. First, I need a crew…”
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For this adventure, the Lycian Empire is hiring mercenaries to visit the Dread Isle, find the Dragon’s Gate, and blow it into rubble. Come along as we visit in-game locations and reveal what still hides behind the fog. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet some very old (skeletal) friends.
Reply if you want in. We can iron out details here.
It made Father Terran squirm just to set foot into town. The sin was everywhere!
Moreso when he stepped foot into Davros Inn. It reeked of smoke, liquor, and the unholy activities between men and women. The holy man clenched his body tightly, as if afraid to touch anything. Yet the Church demanded his presence there. The task that needed to be done could not be done by a priest. They needed a devil.
Wratt waved the priest over to his booth. As Terran sat down upon the sticky seat, his face scrunched up in discomfort. Wratt laughed loudly at the priest’s predicament. They both knew Wratt could laugh because of his success in his last few jobs. Not many mercenaries would work for the empire. Fewer that wouldn’t demand a small fortune for a job. Even fewer that would do the job well. Wratt Cervant, for all his misdeeds, got the job done. And if he didn’t, well, he wasn’t someone the Church would miss much.
“What’s the matter? Afraid a little sin will rub on you? That you might like it?” Wratt smiled as he took a sip of his ale.
“Can we please just get on with this?”
“Alright, alright,” Wratt put his mug down. “What’s the job this time?”
“Are you familiar with the island of Valor?”
“Dread Isle? That’s that foggy island sailors get superstitious about.”
“Yes, well, we need you to go there and find something.”
“Of course you do,” Wratt replied, rubbing his beard. Not many would sail to Dread Isle. Only the stupid would step foot on it. Stories of disappearing fleets were still told to this day. Apparently, they didn’t just spook the locals.
“Legend speaks of a Dragon’s Gate. At the end of the Scouring, the last dragons used it to escape our world and enter another. There are…accounts…that they could return through the same way.”
“This isn’t some ‘get the thing’ mission. This is a ‘bring the explosives’ mission.”
“Precisely,” Terran nodded. “Make sure legend stays legend. It is unholy ground. Burn the ruins to the ground if you have to.”
“Sounds like a job for multiple people. Lots of explosives, supplies to get across the island, a ship to get us there.”
“The Empire will compensate you and your crew handsomely, as usual. We would need you to start immediately.”
“Well, hold your horses. First, I need a crew…”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For this adventure, the Lycian Empire is hiring mercenaries to visit the Dread Isle, find the Dragon’s Gate, and blow it into rubble. Come along as we visit in-game locations and reveal what still hides behind the fog. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet some very old (skeletal) friends.
Reply if you want in. We can iron out details here.