Zenyth watched as each of the group gathered up their belongings and, only when assured they were in fact listening to him, he bent down and carefully scooped up the half-elven assassin with a sigh. He strode quickly from the room and listened to the sound of footfalls that followed him before he led them down the stairs all the way to the first floor of the tavern. In the main room Rhiem, the owner of the bar and a stocky Rashemi woman, stood off to the side, a giant greataxe in hand that she ran a cloth over. The cloth was coated in blood that she'd already cleaned from the blade. With a mace in hand Vior, Rheim's husband--a ginger haired dwarf--stood beside her, beard bristled and not even remotely neatly groomed. Both looked rather furious at the mess of the main floor of the tavern.
A small, blond haired gnome with a bright, viscous grin, swung her legs back and forth from where she sat atop the bar. She peered over at the stairs when Zenyth came down, followed by the few survivors of the mess from the floors above. After a second Ember's lips curled into a frown. Zenyth strode over to the bar, laid the half-elf down next to Ember, and then slipped around behind it. He fished out a bottle and began to drink.
"Teyl," Zenyth said simply, as if that answered all the questions anyone could ever had.
Ember hissed between her teeth and mumbled, "Shit."
The first floor, the party noted, has an additional seven dead bodies littered around in various states of disrepair. One or two were quite obviously bisected from Rheim's greataxe and a few others seem to have been flayed by who-knows-what. The additional dead bodies however gave credence to something much, much worse in the works.
Outside of the Immoral Wench Tamela Darkmast and Wilkas Tenur arrive in relative silence. Those inside appear to be awake given the light that peered out through dirty windows, although why in the dead of the night anyone would quite honestly be awake was unknown. The air outside felt still, almost unnaturally so, and given tonight's events so far that left something of unease with Tamela and Wilkas both.
The smell of the bossy Elf wafted into Tilda's nose as he leaned close, an unwashed sort of must, and stale booze. Tilda sniffed, only barely registering his words of warning. The smell brought back buried memories, of unkind drunken masters and beatings. Tilda stiffened, fists tense. "I will hear your words, Elf, as stated. But kindly keep your distance... please." The last word quieter then the rest, Tilda felt more then saw the Elf leave, for her eyes had begun to blur. But a few calming breaths later and Tilda was rushing behind the group to go down the stairs things in hand.
"Where to begin?" Quilla asks rhetorically, as she begins to pace the first level. "Well, the questions, where else? Who are you? Why were there assassins looming over us? Who are they? Why was there one for each of us? It seems like over kill. Finally who are you?"
Quilla breathes in, holding up a finger to anyone about to speak. "You four are clearly in cahoots, you know this man, or at least the most identifying thing about him, the word "Teyl". That word means nothing to us, so it must be something to do with a covert operation, a Guild mission perhaps? You may have been partners with this man in the Guild or just the city? Either way, you own this tavern, taking a more quiet route. Do you have a secret entrance into an organization's headquarters or safe house, or did you decide lives of danger were no longer for you, but others still had debts to settle? No, the way the elf moves, implies he regularly uses his skills, making you still active in the community... But what did you do to prompt this? From your own guild? No, that seems wrong. What am I missing?"
"The relevant equation is: Knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass; a good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read." - Terry Pratchett
As Brash makes his way into the main area downstairs he notices that there was a scuffle down here also. He spots Reim and making eye contact he gives her a nod knowing she is the head of this tavern group and his military training tells him to show respect to the commander of a group. Then he naturally stands near Aquariel as she is the only one he even barely knows. Brash remains patient hoping some answers will come.
Casting his gaze over the first floor, Ulrich's attention is for once brought away from the various people filling the room to, instead, the bodies littering the floor. An observation briefly crosses his mind, noting that the wounds of these individuals - particularly the one who had met their end by way of greataxe - leave far more blood than his own injuries did before being healed by the halfling. Then again, he'd never been stabbed twice by assassins before this particular evening, so there hadn't been many chances to compare.
Once the gnome woman - Quilla - begins speaking, Ulrich waits to add any additional questions, though he quickly realizes any important ones he can think of at the moment have been covered. Instead, he waits along with the others, hoping to hear some sort of explanation for all of this.
Vladofshky looks around the room and inspects the bodies. "Fascinating... Anyways, I think the most urgent question is, are we safe yet? I can wait for the rest"
When Tilda enters the first floor of the Tavern, she looks around and immediately sees the fallen bodies and various things obviously damaged, some probably beyond repair. She sees the Elf by the bar and sitting next to him an unusually cheerful Gnome who looks friendly enough. She's probably a safe bet.
Tilda is interpreting "Vicious grin" when coupled with "Swinging legs" to simply mean a very enthusiastic grin which she would interpret as a friendly face.... if she is wrong blame it on the poor roll of 8 on perception when she was scanning the room for valuables when she walked in........ >.>
Tilda moves to sit on the bar-stool nearest the Gnome but pointedly farther from the Elf, in line with her earlier request for distance.
"Hi, I'm Tilda. Nice to meet you... Mind if I ask what's going on?" She reaches out as if to shake hands with the Gnome.
Wilkas walks to one of the windows and peers in, to see if he could recognise any of the people who were up. He sees Rhiem and Vior, along with several strangers and some corpses. After relaying this to Tamela, he asks;
"Should we go in? I'm getting sick of corpses today."
Aquariel looked around the main room and shuddered. Never had she seen such destruction. For all that she had been a scout for her people, they had never faced such violence in such numbers. She was relieved to see that Rheim and Vior were still among the living. In the midst of the devastation, the gnome named Quilla brought some lightness for Aquariel. The rushing pace of her questions, indeed of her speech from the very beginning intrigued and amused Aquariel. She was like the little waterfall a ways upstream from Mirror Lake. Quick rushing water, careening around rocks, dancing at the base of the falls. Always in motion, always rushing. Most of her fellow villagers had found it distressing; they much preferred the calm stillness of Mirror Lake. But Aquariel had always found the spot to be a cheery place, suggesting that freedom and passion were as much a part of water as placidness and enforced calm. She still struggled to let herself be so free, so "hasty" as her folk would say; to see someone else embrace such freedom and energy brought her joy, even in the midst of such a dreadful night. Aquariel was astounded by the conclusions Quilla had come to; she wasn't sure Quilla was correct in her guesses, but it was interesting to see her mind a work, right there in front of everyone. Weighing her options, among a people she didn't know, Aquariel decided to keep it simple, "Does anyone know why we were attacked? What do we need to do now?"
Wilkas walks to one of the windows and peers in, to see if he could recognise any of the people who were up. He sees Rhiem and Vior, along with several strangers and some corpses. After relaying this to Tamela, he asks;
"Should we go in? I'm getting sick of corpses today."
Hearing Wilkas, she says, "Oh yes, we should definitely go in. If we are going to find the Silentshadow and get answers, I don't see any other way." She pauses, then says, "Although, I'm not making any promises about avoiding corpses." Tamela heads into the Wench, staying close to Wilkas, the only person there she trusts.
Brash doesn’t take much notice of the two that walk in other then how odd it was at this time of night. He makes his way over to Rheim. “Ma’am if I may, we are all for the most part strangers and yet we were all attack. If you know of any reason, please inform us but most of all what do we do now” he ask her in a way that shows the utmost respect. “I am a solder not a commander”
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Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
“Teyl is not a word, darling cinquefoil,” Zenyth murmured in gnomish with a scowl as he debated the merits of pouring a glass. After a second Zenyth seemed to decide no, that wasn’t worth it, and just started to drink from the bottle.
It is Rheim who shifted and moved at Quilla’s sudden tirade, although she did glance to Zenyth with a brief look of concern. “Listen, girl, there are no Guild members here.” Her eyes were narrowed and her stance military stiff. “This…attack you have been unfortunately party to—”
“It’s not any part on your shoulders, lass,” Vior spoke up. He brushed past his wife with a gentle pat to her arm. “We don’t know the whys but we’ve got a gander on the whos.” He glanced to the body. “It seemed rather geared towards killin’ the patrons at any rate. Ruinin’ business and reputation. Bah.”
“Right up their alleyway,” Zenyth grumbled and took another swig.
Rheim scoffed and kicked at one of the corpses. “Pathetic,” she grumbled.
From the counter Ember kicked her feet and twittered a laugh. “Oh you are being very, very accusatory there, friend! Having secret passageways and chambers into some strange sort of guildhall? My what stories you must read!” Ember leaned forward and grinned with her teeth. “You’ll have to share them with me. I love a good tall tale.”
When Tilda approached Ember glanced to her and gave a hearty wave. “Ember Dewsong, pretty thing!” She took the hand, planted a quick kiss to the back of her knuckles, and then dropped it as she suddenly whirled around toward Zenyth and punched him in the gut. “And lookit you! Drinking, boozing, drowning your sorrows. I get he was one of your bastards but damn it! Save the drinks for the day and not the night!” Ember leaned over and planted her hands onto the counter as she twisted to stare at Zenyth furiously. “Don’t think I didn’t know you passed out behind the bar, again.”
Zenyth scowled. “You never had a problem before.”
“Because that was manageable, and this?” Ember huffed. “After tonight you’ll be a pain to take care of.”
Zenyth snarled down at Ember and turned away. “Pretentious; my little sorrel,” he grumbled at her.
Vior huffed and stormed his way over to Zenyth. “Alright, alright! Enough out of you. Rheim, Ember, dears, I’ll be takin’ this one off your hands. Tend to our…survivin’ guests will you?” Vior grabbed Zenyth by the arms. He protested, faintly. “And Rheim? Do go easy.” He shot his wife a look as he bustled Zenyth off.
“But I don’t wanna—” “Hush. You are going to rest and let us take care of things.” “But Teyl—” “Rest, Zenyth.”
Rheim sighed as the two left and moved over toward the counter. She looked to the assembled group and motioned toward the bar. “Well? Sit. We won’t have long to chat, so make your questions brief. And not full of conspiracy nonsense.” She shot a look to Quilla with a huff.
Ember hopped down from the bar counter and practically skipped over to the corpses with a cheery, “Don’t mind me! Talk to the lady.”
Rheim huffed and started to pull at the drinks. “Anything you want, just ask. On the house while we talk—” she started, but then the door pushed open and in stepped two more people. She recognized Tamela Darkmast and Wilkas Tenur almost instantly. Before she could say anything Ember waved.
“Right, forgot to mention—you need to get the locked fixed!”
Rheim growled, pinched the bridge of her nose, and motioned the two additions over. “Get your ass in here and shut the door!”
"Two more added to this mess! Great! Introductions will take forever!" Quilla does not move and makes no effort to conceal her annoyance. "If I know one thing about the city, it's that its like a dungeon, with traps and secrets that will hurt if you're not careful, so you'll excuse my suspicion. Now, I'll ask again, who are you and who attacked us?"
"The relevant equation is: Knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass; a good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read." - Terry Pratchett
Brash, feeling Rheim will answer what questions she can, makes his way back over by Aquariel. He has a level of trust for Rheim. Maybe it’s the military thing or because Rheim and Aquariel are the only people he has meet previously. Instead of adding to the choose of question Brash decides to wait for answers and/or orders.
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Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
Aquariel did as Rheim asked, and moved up to the bar. She nodded at Brash as he approached her. Looking at Quilla, she responded, "When I arrived yesterday, I heard talk of an attack on this part of the city, and that Rheim had dealt with the invaders." Shifting her glance, to Rheim, she continued, "Perhaps tonight's attack was related? in any event, what do we do now? The Elf-- Zenyth? said something about the guard arriving soon?"
Sorry everyone, but I have to leave the game. Too much going on with work, school, and family stuff, and I'm spread way too thin. Thanks for the last few months, and good luck!
Sorry everyone, but I have to leave the game. Too much going on with work, school, and family stuff, and I'm spread way too thin. Thanks for the last few months, and good luck!
//wish you the best of luck and Merry Christmas.//
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
Sorry everyone, but I have to leave the game. Too much going on with work, school, and family stuff, and I'm spread way too thin. Thanks for the last few months, and good luck!
Good luck!
"on the house"
Those words quickly got Vladofshky¡s attention. He hurriedly finished taking mental notes of the corpses anatomy and went on to take a seat and a drink.
"What is so important to discuss that you'd treat us so well? Not that I'm complaining, and it is very much appreciated after this night."
"Introductions will be the least of you worries," Rheim said bluntly. "And what makes you think I am anything but what I am?" Rheim eyed the little gnome. "I am a soldier, retired. A 'hero,'" Rheim's voice was disdainful even as she poured Vladofshky a drink, "and more recently a tavern owner married to a wonderful dwarf. I am nothing more than what I am." She pressed her lips together and nodded toward Aquariel. "You, my dear, are correct. These...fools are merely an extension from the attack upon the city a fortnight ago."
After she served everyone Rheim sighed tiredly and leaned against the counter. She seemed to shift from stern, immovable and strong Rheim to something more tired, more worn down in an instant. Rheim glanced over to Wilkas.
"Wilkas, boy, what brings you here at hours when we are closed?" she asks, in lieu of saying anything further. Something about the young Tenur heir's arrival, and with a Darkmast at that, spelled additional trouble. In the background Ember cheerfully hummed as she rummaged through the corpses and carefully piled each up into a corner. The corpse of the young half-elven boy sitting upon the bar's counter away from the party was left untouched.
Wilkas sighed as he scanned the room, before speaking, his voice still gravelly from the influence of Naberius.
"Well, a burning house and cultists attacking me, meant that sticking around there was probably a bad idea. Miss Darkmast suggested we come here, so here we are."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Do you have difficulty fitting everything you want into your signature? Then check out the Extended Signature thread!
Zenyth watched as each of the group gathered up their belongings and, only when assured they were in fact listening to him, he bent down and carefully scooped up the half-elven assassin with a sigh. He strode quickly from the room and listened to the sound of footfalls that followed him before he led them down the stairs all the way to the first floor of the tavern. In the main room Rhiem, the owner of the bar and a stocky Rashemi woman, stood off to the side, a giant greataxe in hand that she ran a cloth over. The cloth was coated in blood that she'd already cleaned from the blade. With a mace in hand Vior, Rheim's husband--a ginger haired dwarf--stood beside her, beard bristled and not even remotely neatly groomed. Both looked rather furious at the mess of the main floor of the tavern.
A small, blond haired gnome with a bright, viscous grin, swung her legs back and forth from where she sat atop the bar. She peered over at the stairs when Zenyth came down, followed by the few survivors of the mess from the floors above. After a second Ember's lips curled into a frown. Zenyth strode over to the bar, laid the half-elf down next to Ember, and then slipped around behind it. He fished out a bottle and began to drink.
"Teyl," Zenyth said simply, as if that answered all the questions anyone could ever had.
Ember hissed between her teeth and mumbled, "Shit."
The first floor, the party noted, has an additional seven dead bodies littered around in various states of disrepair. One or two were quite obviously bisected from Rheim's greataxe and a few others seem to have been flayed by who-knows-what. The additional dead bodies however gave credence to something much, much worse in the works.
Outside of the Immoral Wench Tamela Darkmast and Wilkas Tenur arrive in relative silence. Those inside appear to be awake given the light that peered out through dirty windows, although why in the dead of the night anyone would quite honestly be awake was unknown. The air outside felt still, almost unnaturally so, and given tonight's events so far that left something of unease with Tamela and Wilkas both.
Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - DM | Recruiting Thread | Campaign ThreadTomb of Annihilation - DM
Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
The smell of the bossy Elf wafted into Tilda's nose as he leaned close, an unwashed sort of must, and stale booze. Tilda sniffed, only barely registering his words of warning. The smell brought back buried memories, of unkind drunken masters and beatings. Tilda stiffened, fists tense. "I will hear your words, Elf, as stated. But kindly keep your distance... please." The last word quieter then the rest, Tilda felt more then saw the Elf leave, for her eyes had begun to blur. But a few calming breaths later and Tilda was rushing behind the group to go down the stairs things in hand.
If only I could be so grossly incandescent
"Where to begin?" Quilla asks rhetorically, as she begins to pace the first level. "Well, the questions, where else? Who are you? Why were there assassins looming over us? Who are they? Why was there one for each of us? It seems like over kill. Finally who are you?"
Quilla breathes in, holding up a finger to anyone about to speak. "You four are clearly in cahoots, you know this man, or at least the most identifying thing about him, the word "Teyl". That word means nothing to us, so it must be something to do with a covert operation, a Guild mission perhaps? You may have been partners with this man in the Guild or just the city? Either way, you own this tavern, taking a more quiet route. Do you have a secret entrance into an organization's headquarters or safe house, or did you decide lives of danger were no longer for you, but others still had debts to settle? No, the way the elf moves, implies he regularly uses his skills, making you still active in the community... But what did you do to prompt this? From your own guild? No, that seems wrong. What am I missing?"
Tooltips | Snippet Code | How to Homebrew on D&D Beyond | Subclass Guide | Feature Roadmap
Astromancer's Homebrew Assembly
"The relevant equation is: Knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass; a good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read." - Terry Pratchett
As Brash makes his way into the main area downstairs he notices that there was a scuffle down here also. He spots Reim and making eye contact he gives her a nod knowing she is the head of this tavern group and his military training tells him to show respect to the commander of a group. Then he naturally stands near Aquariel as she is the only one he even barely knows. Brash remains patient hoping some answers will come.
Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
Casting his gaze over the first floor, Ulrich's attention is for once brought away from the various people filling the room to, instead, the bodies littering the floor. An observation briefly crosses his mind, noting that the wounds of these individuals - particularly the one who had met their end by way of greataxe - leave far more blood than his own injuries did before being healed by the halfling. Then again, he'd never been stabbed twice by assassins before this particular evening, so there hadn't been many chances to compare.
Once the gnome woman - Quilla - begins speaking, Ulrich waits to add any additional questions, though he quickly realizes any important ones he can think of at the moment have been covered. Instead, he waits along with the others, hoping to hear some sort of explanation for all of this.
Vladofshky looks around the room and inspects the bodies.
"Fascinating... Anyways, I think the most urgent question is, are we safe yet? I can wait for the rest"
When Tilda enters the first floor of the Tavern, she looks around and immediately sees the fallen bodies and various things obviously damaged, some probably beyond repair. She sees the Elf by the bar and sitting next to him an unusually cheerful Gnome who looks friendly enough. She's probably a safe bet.
Tilda is interpreting "Vicious grin" when coupled with "Swinging legs" to simply mean a very enthusiastic grin which she would interpret as a friendly face.... if she is wrong blame it on the poor roll of 8 on perception when she was scanning the room for valuables when she walked in........ >.>
Tilda moves to sit on the bar-stool nearest the Gnome but pointedly farther from the Elf, in line with her earlier request for distance.
"Hi, I'm Tilda. Nice to meet you... Mind if I ask what's going on?" She reaches out as if to shake hands with the Gnome.
If only I could be so grossly incandescent
Wilkas walks to one of the windows and peers in, to see if he could recognise any of the people who were up. He sees Rhiem and Vior, along with several strangers and some corpses. After relaying this to Tamela, he asks;
"Should we go in? I'm getting sick of corpses today."
Do you have difficulty fitting everything you want into your signature? Then check out the Extended Signature thread!
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Aquariel looked around the main room and shuddered. Never had she seen such destruction. For all that she had been a scout for her people, they had never faced such violence in such numbers. She was relieved to see that Rheim and Vior were still among the living. In the midst of the devastation, the gnome named Quilla brought some lightness for Aquariel. The rushing pace of her questions, indeed of her speech from the very beginning intrigued and amused Aquariel. She was like the little waterfall a ways upstream from Mirror Lake. Quick rushing water, careening around rocks, dancing at the base of the falls. Always in motion, always rushing. Most of her fellow villagers had found it distressing; they much preferred the calm stillness of Mirror Lake. But Aquariel had always found the spot to be a cheery place, suggesting that freedom and passion were as much a part of water as placidness and enforced calm. She still struggled to let herself be so free, so "hasty" as her folk would say; to see someone else embrace such freedom and energy brought her joy, even in the midst of such a dreadful night. Aquariel was astounded by the conclusions Quilla had come to; she wasn't sure Quilla was correct in her guesses, but it was interesting to see her mind a work, right there in front of everyone. Weighing her options, among a people she didn't know, Aquariel decided to keep it simple, "Does anyone know why we were attacked? What do we need to do now?"
Trying to Decide if DDB is for you? A few helpful threads: A Buyer's Guide to DDB; What I/We Bought and Why; How some DMs use DDB; A Newer Thread on Using DDB to Play
Helpful threads on other topics: Homebrew FAQ by IamSposta; Accessing Content by ConalTheGreat;
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Brash doesn’t take much notice of the two that walk in other then how odd it was at this time of night. He makes his way over to Rheim. “Ma’am if I may, we are all for the most part strangers and yet we were all attack. If you know of any reason, please inform us but most of all what do we do now” he ask her in a way that shows the utmost respect. “I am a solder not a commander”
Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
“Teyl is not a word, darling cinquefoil,” Zenyth murmured in gnomish with a scowl as he debated the merits of pouring a glass. After a second Zenyth seemed to decide no, that wasn’t worth it, and just started to drink from the bottle.
It is Rheim who shifted and moved at Quilla’s sudden tirade, although she did glance to Zenyth with a brief look of concern. “Listen, girl, there are no Guild members here.” Her eyes were narrowed and her stance military stiff. “This…attack you have been unfortunately party to—”
“It’s not any part on your shoulders, lass,” Vior spoke up. He brushed past his wife with a gentle pat to her arm. “We don’t know the whys but we’ve got a gander on the whos.” He glanced to the body. “It seemed rather geared towards killin’ the patrons at any rate. Ruinin’ business and reputation. Bah.”
“Right up their alleyway,” Zenyth grumbled and took another swig.
Rheim scoffed and kicked at one of the corpses. “Pathetic,” she grumbled.
From the counter Ember kicked her feet and twittered a laugh. “Oh you are being very, very accusatory there, friend! Having secret passageways and chambers into some strange sort of guildhall? My what stories you must read!” Ember leaned forward and grinned with her teeth. “You’ll have to share them with me. I love a good tall tale.”
When Tilda approached Ember glanced to her and gave a hearty wave. “Ember Dewsong, pretty thing!” She took the hand, planted a quick kiss to the back of her knuckles, and then dropped it as she suddenly whirled around toward Zenyth and punched him in the gut. “And lookit you! Drinking, boozing, drowning your sorrows. I get he was one of your bastards but damn it! Save the drinks for the day and not the night!” Ember leaned over and planted her hands onto the counter as she twisted to stare at Zenyth furiously. “Don’t think I didn’t know you passed out behind the bar, again.”
Zenyth scowled. “You never had a problem before.”
“Because that was manageable, and this?” Ember huffed. “After tonight you’ll be a pain to take care of.”
Zenyth snarled down at Ember and turned away. “Pretentious; my little sorrel,” he grumbled at her.
Vior huffed and stormed his way over to Zenyth. “Alright, alright! Enough out of you. Rheim, Ember, dears, I’ll be takin’ this one off your hands. Tend to our…survivin’ guests will you?” Vior grabbed Zenyth by the arms. He protested, faintly. “And Rheim? Do go easy.” He shot his wife a look as he bustled Zenyth off.
“But I don’t wanna—”
“Hush. You are going to rest and let us take care of things.”
“But Teyl—”
“Rest, Zenyth.”
Rheim sighed as the two left and moved over toward the counter. She looked to the assembled group and motioned toward the bar. “Well? Sit. We won’t have long to chat, so make your questions brief. And not full of conspiracy nonsense.” She shot a look to Quilla with a huff.
Ember hopped down from the bar counter and practically skipped over to the corpses with a cheery, “Don’t mind me! Talk to the lady.”
Rheim huffed and started to pull at the drinks. “Anything you want, just ask. On the house while we talk—” she started, but then the door pushed open and in stepped two more people. She recognized Tamela Darkmast and Wilkas Tenur almost instantly. Before she could say anything Ember waved.
“Right, forgot to mention—you need to get the locked fixed!”
Rheim growled, pinched the bridge of her nose, and motioned the two additions over. “Get your ass in here and shut the door!”
Dawning - A Homebrew Campaign - DM
Hoard of the Dragon Queen - DM | Recruiting Thread | Campaign ThreadTomb of Annihilation - DM
Dragon Heist of Waterdeep - DM
"Two more added to this mess! Great! Introductions will take forever!" Quilla does not move and makes no effort to conceal her annoyance. "If I know one thing about the city, it's that its like a dungeon, with traps and secrets that will hurt if you're not careful, so you'll excuse my suspicion. Now, I'll ask again, who are you and who attacked us?"
Tooltips | Snippet Code | How to Homebrew on D&D Beyond | Subclass Guide | Feature Roadmap
Astromancer's Homebrew Assembly
"The relevant equation is: Knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass; a good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read." - Terry Pratchett
Brash, feeling Rheim will answer what questions she can, makes his way back over by Aquariel. He has a level of trust for Rheim. Maybe it’s the military thing or because Rheim and Aquariel are the only people he has meet previously. Instead of adding to the choose of question Brash decides to wait for answers and/or orders.
Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
Aquariel did as Rheim asked, and moved up to the bar. She nodded at Brash as he approached her. Looking at Quilla, she responded, "When I arrived yesterday, I heard talk of an attack on this part of the city, and that Rheim had dealt with the invaders." Shifting her glance, to Rheim, she continued, "Perhaps tonight's attack was related? in any event, what do we do now? The Elf-- Zenyth? said something about the guard arriving soon?"
Trying to Decide if DDB is for you? A few helpful threads: A Buyer's Guide to DDB; What I/We Bought and Why; How some DMs use DDB; A Newer Thread on Using DDB to Play
Helpful threads on other topics: Homebrew FAQ by IamSposta; Accessing Content by ConalTheGreat;
Check your entitlements here. | Support Ticket LInk
Sorry everyone, but I have to leave the game. Too much going on with work, school, and family stuff, and I'm spread way too thin. Thanks for the last few months, and good luck!
Elon Andrael- High Elf sorcerer- Waterdeep Dragon Heist
Tomac- goliath barbarian- Yet Another Storm Kings Thunder
Good luck!
"on the house"
Those words quickly got Vladofshky¡s attention. He hurriedly finished taking mental notes of the corpses anatomy and went on to take a seat and a drink.
"What is so important to discuss that you'd treat us so well? Not that I'm complaining, and it is very much appreciated after this night."
"Introductions will be the least of you worries," Rheim said bluntly. "And what makes you think I am anything but what I am?" Rheim eyed the little gnome. "I am a soldier, retired. A 'hero,'" Rheim's voice was disdainful even as she poured Vladofshky a drink, "and more recently a tavern owner married to a wonderful dwarf. I am nothing more than what I am." She pressed her lips together and nodded toward Aquariel. "You, my dear, are correct. These...fools are merely an extension from the attack upon the city a fortnight ago."
After she served everyone Rheim sighed tiredly and leaned against the counter. She seemed to shift from stern, immovable and strong Rheim to something more tired, more worn down in an instant. Rheim glanced over to Wilkas.
"Wilkas, boy, what brings you here at hours when we are closed?" she asks, in lieu of saying anything further. Something about the young Tenur heir's arrival, and with a Darkmast at that, spelled additional trouble. In the background Ember cheerfully hummed as she rummaged through the corpses and carefully piled each up into a corner. The corpse of the young half-elven boy sitting upon the bar's counter away from the party was left untouched.
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Wilkas sighed as he scanned the room, before speaking, his voice still gravelly from the influence of Naberius.
"Well, a burning house and cultists attacking me, meant that sticking around there was probably a bad idea. Miss Darkmast suggested we come here, so here we are."
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