A contest/event! Posting this on the Sarlona forums as I wait for it to make it to the server event forum.
The Story:
FROM THE JOURNAL OF DRIZZITE74:
...What exactly was I doing there? I sat in a large rectangular room, with a raised platform stage at the front and a few rows of beaten-down wooden chairs. I think they may have come from the Wavecrest? Not sure about that. Whatever. It's obvious that I'm not here for the reason I was originally convinced to come. That's the last time I let a buxom elf-sorceress' charms work their magic on me.
Where's the grog?!? That's what I want to know. See, I was sitting in the Anvilfire Inn, doing what I do best, which is drinking pint after pint of the 'Ole Sully's. Best grog in Xendrik. There were about ten of us there tonight. I'd come to Stormreach in search of adventure: platinum, magical items and weapons, a bit of monster-killing, you know, the basic stuff. Granted, I've been doing a lot more "Sullying" than monster-killing, but I figure I'm not going anywhere, and neither are the kobolds. There'll be plenty of time for all of that later. I'd been in town for a few weeks. I did help clean out the Waterworks, which seemed to be one of the first things most people did when they got to town. But, ya know, mostly I'd been watching the crowds at the taverns, which suits me fine.
I quickly realized that I was brought into this room under false pretenses. No grog to be found anywhere...just that empty stage, ten of us sitting in those chairs looking around in a confused fashion....and the now-locked door. With two guards. Two big guards. Weilding what looks suspiciously like frost Khopeshes. And staring at us with an obvious sense of disdain. Is this some kind of Silver Flame recruitment night? I hoped not.
That's when she walked into the room. About six-foot-four, eyes of blue. Wearing a hat covered in blood. Robes covered in blood, too. Someone you didn't want to mess with. Muscular build. Looked like she'd be more than willing to kill us.
"ALL RIGHT, SCUM! LISTEN UP!"
The room grew silent. Obviously.
"I'M HERE FOR ONE REASON....AND THAT'S BECAUSE THE COIN LORDS WANT ME TO BE HERE. THAT'S ALSO THE ONLY REASON YOU WORTHLESS SO-CALLED 'ADVENTURERS' ARE HERE TOO. BECAUSE THE COIN LORDS PERMIT IT!"
"YOU," she pointed to a particularly scrawny-looking halfling rogue, "DO YOU THINK YOU'RE JUST GONNA ARRIVE HERE BY BOAT AND HAVE A NICE VACATION?!?"
"no," came the weak reply.
"DARN RIGHT!!! HERE'S MY WELCOMING GIFT TO YOU!"
A lump of coal. Smack. Right in the face. That's one halfling that will be remembering a certain lady the next time he's sitting by the fireplace.
"Ahem." A new voice. Attached to another tall person. This time a man. Dark hair, dark eyes that bore through the crowd. Black robes that seemed to crackle with negative energy. Or maybe the darkness came from himself?
"Welcome. My name is not important. What is important is that the Coin Lords have decided to crack down a bit on who gets to enjoy the fruits of everyone's labor. Frankly, someone has decided that you don't deserve said fruit. Instead of shipping you back to wherever you came from, it has been decided that your lack of recent activity isn't so much related to your incompetance as it is related to a lack of training. Your training begins now..."
"YOU! YOU WITH THE BANDED MAIL! YOU CALL YOURSELF A FIGHTER AND YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A SHIELD?!?!" The lady again. Another lump of coal flew through the air, hitting a lady fighter's hand. "IF YOU HAD A SHIELD YOUR FINGERS WOULD NOT BE BROKEN NOW, WOULD THEY?"
"YOU! WARFORGED!!! I BET YOU THINK YOU LOOK PRETTY GOOD WITH THOSE PINK DOCENTS!!! ALL PRETTY LIKE. REAL PRETTY FOR A FREAKIN' MECHANICAL FAILURE. UGLY. NO REAL EMOTIONS. WHEN WE'RE DONE WITH YOU, YOU'LL NO LONGER FEEL JOY, BUT THERE'LL BE PLENTY OF PAIN...."
I swear by the Gods, I never thought a Warforged could shed tears. Until today....
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