With the world so recently suffering from the great Magic loss, now known as "The Knowledge Sealing" some 1 hundred years back the Swords Coast is in a state of flux. Powerful entities are making a grab for power, cities are fortifying, and a new boom of wealth, fame, and fortune is being found by anyone that can learn magical secrets. Through various means, all of you have found yourselves in the city of Neverwinter. A large walled port city west of the Neverwinter Wood, and one of the most northward civilizations in the entire of the Swords Coast.
Life has been hard over the past 100 years, but even more so within Neverwinter. With creatures great and small swarming over the countryside, and winter on the way, food is becoming difficult to afford at a reasonable rate, and you have burned through what coin you had. Fortunately, your sets of unique talents have not gone without notice. An Inn and tavern that you all frequent is run by a stout Dwarven male in his middle years named Gundren Rockseer. He is a balding redhead with a lush red nose and a laugh that boarders on wheezing madness, but he is a good fellow.
The 6 of you have done jobs for him in the past here and there, but last night, all of you received letters under your door. It reads
My good friends! I have an opportunity for you that will pay you through the winter and more. I will be setting up shot in a small village south of here called Phandalin. I will be sending wagonloads of materials back of forward, but I need some strong hands to protect it. The ride will provide you with 10 gold each time you make the trip. The trip there and back is about 4 days, and I will be needing a new load of materials every 2 weeks. I am leaving tonight with Sildar Hallwinter as a guard. Meet my daughter outside of the "Stout and Red" tomorrow morning and she will have the wagon ready.
Within the letter, you find 5 Gold already paid down, knowing that you may be low on funds. As you all meet up outside of the wagon, Gundren's Stout but attractive red headed daughter that looks to have some human in her genes smiles at the lot of you "Take the road south along the high road until you get to Triboar Trial. Take that east and you will see a signpost for Phandalin. Be safe out there... especially at night. Lots of beasties."
As a group, you have spent the past 2 days now traveling along the road, and you have passed many other caravans with similar or heavier guards then yourselves. Blessedly, you have not encountered anything as of yet, but the amount of people on the roads may be dissuading creatures from attacking, and at night, you have found security with other caravans.
You have since turned off the High Road, and have started down on Triboar trail.
OOC: Now is a good time to introduce yourselves. You may or may not have met each other before this doing jobs for Gundren, or you may not. It is up to you.
Having left 3 gold pieces in the hands of a family at the Protector's Enclave that he knew had had a baby in the recent weeks, Cyrnair almost doesn't make to the meet in time. He greets Gundren's daughter with a smile and a sincere shake of hand, grabbing her from the forearm as she did to him.
"Your father should have waited for me "the tall aasimar says "He would be better protected with the Morning Lord at his side "
Indeed he wore a white tabard with the symbol of Lathander embroided on it. The same symbol that was engraved on the shield he wore at his back. The pommel of his sword was adorned with a rising sun at the tip of it. Stading nearly 7 feet tall he was an imposing figure talking over the dwarf.
He wore a chain mail under the tabard and the longsword that was on his hip seemed to be his only weaponry. He left the hood of his cape down, enjoying the morning sun and the gentle but fresh breeze while he walked toward the meeting. His blond hair and clear grey eyes were radiant, as if they glow with an internal light. His voice was calm and low, inviting to relaz when he talked but powerful when he shout at battle as their peers at the temple knew.
Cyrnair hears the voice but not with his ears, and he recognizes the mental voice of Morgan, who he has worked with a couple of times before. Looking past Hildred toward the wagon, he notes the familiar sight of Hrogar, Morgan's faithful Clydesdale, being hitched to the wagon by the dark-haired young woman herself. She doesn't meet his gaze, focusing on the task of making sure Hrogar is set to go.
OoC: DM, I hope you don't mind me giving the daughter a name. I just didn't want her to be only referred to as Gundren's daughter or the dwarf woman.
"It's good to see you Morgan. At least I am not the last one this time!" he then turns to Hildred "Do you know how many guards has your father hired this time?"
*Good morning to you as well, Cyrnair,* comes the silent response as Morgan finishes with Hrogar and gives him an affectionate pat on the neck. She then makes her way to stand next to Hildred and the aasimar. She herself stands only five and a half feet tall, and so is also rather dwarfed by the tall paladin. She brushes off a few stray bits of hay from her dark robes before speaking audibly to Hildred.
“Baryeras the ranger” Hildred says, smiling at the large horse and pulling her step stool away from the horse. ”Caradoc that roguish Halfling that steels hearts, Gelin the love of my life...”she says with a blush “and Frixori the Tiefling. I am not sure what she can do though.”
A black haired dwarf has just come into earshot, "Heh heh. Love of your life... you and many others, lass."Though he looks as dwarven as they come, even down to the battleaxe slung across his back, his affectations are decidedly not typical of other dwarves. His beard and hair are very well kempt and it looks like his hands haven't seen a day of hard labor in their lives. His jovial tone is accented by a lively rhythm played on a makeshift drum slung under his arm, seemingly accenting just the right parts of his sentences. "Gelin Stonefist, at your service." He doffs an imaginary cap to the assembled party. "Seems I'm not as late as I thought; the ballads of heroes rarely tell tale of the mind-numbing amounts of waiting adventuring entails." He sits down on the most comfortable rock he can find and hums as the rhythmic drumming resumes.
"Tell tale...entails?" Morgan quietly mutters to herself at the unfamiliar dwarf's words. She gets a sinking feeling in her stomach as she shares a look with Cyrnair.
*PLEASE tell me he won't be as bad as the LAST bard we worked with...*
As if summoned by the sound of her name, a new figure approaches the rest of the party that has gathered. A bright red cape with its hood up seems to have almost swallowed its owner. Two glowing pinks eyes can be seem peering out from the hood. Beneath the cape one can make out some black and red leather armor and a blue crystal hanging from a chain around her neck. She has a sickle at her side.
"Hildra, I presume? Your father said he had a job for me. Sorry, I'm running late," says a muffled, cold voice. "I got lost in my books at the library. Thought I'd get a little reading done before the trip." She glances at those the others who have gathered, "Quite the party for a simple escort job," and reaches high to pull back her hood revealing her to be a pale-skinned tiefling. She has markings on her cheek that appear a stylized celestial script - a bit of a paradox for a tiefling. "Good afternoon. I'm Frixori," she's says to Cynair, Morgan and Gelin. "Shall we be on our way, or are more to come?"
"Wait wait wait!" you hear in high-pitched tones from within the Stout and Red. "You have a very complicated name! You can't expect me to get it right EVERY time! We just met, for goodness' sake!"
"My name is Ruth. Rhymes with truth, something you must not be very familiar with!" replies another voice, punctuated by the sound of a slap.
"But -" SMACK - the slap cuts off the response. Then you hear what might be a chuckle? "You're not far off the mark there. I'm sorry, Ruth. Truly I am. You would not send your friend off into danger with such a parting blow, now would you?"
SMACK!
A halfling saunters out of the Stout and Red, daggers at his hips and a shortsword slung under his pack. Both cheeks are even rosier than usual for a halfling, and one still retains Ruth's red fingermarks. "I guess she would, after all," he murmurs to himself.
"Oh, hey gang! Cyrnair, don't lecture me this early in the morning - please? We've got days and days for you to try and correct my ways. Morgan... oh Morgan. My heart trembles at the very sight of you. And you must be the daughter of Gundren Rockseeker! Long days and pleasant nights to you!" He reaches up to give her the same forearm shake she shared with Gelin.
He glances around and sees the dwarf and the tiefling, whom he can't recall having met before. "Well met to you both! Caradoc Langham, at your service!" he announces, bowing with a grin.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Hilda smiles at the Halfling with a knowing smile "Your smooth tongue may work on my patrons, but you best keep that tongue in check around me, or you wont be using it much longer." She says with a snort. (Conversation can be Retconned moving forward in OOC if you wish)
Looking to Gelin, she smiles sweetly "Come now darling... Surely you remember our night together. I know you have many other suitors, but surely you at least remember that. I know what I was signing up for. I don't expect you to be exclusive to me, but don't be so cruel as that." (Conversation can be Retconned moving forward in OOC if you wish)
Hilda looks to the rest of the group as they get situated to take the wagon drawn by the Clydesdale. "Its a dangerous ride with winter coming. Lots of bandits and creatures that would take my fathers things. Be careful and be on the lookout. Take the road south along the high road until you get to Triboar Trial. Take that east and you will see a signpost for Phandalin. Be safe out there... especially at night. Lots of beasties." (Conversation can be Retconned moving forward in OOC if you wish)
The leaving of the city of Neverwinter is bittersweet for some of you. It is nice to be out and about and have purpose, but the safety of the city and a warm bed is hard to pass up. The fall air is clearly moving into winter, and the location of Neverwinter is markedly north of the equator.
As a group, you have spent the past 2 days now traveling along the road, and you have passed many other caravans with similar or heavier guards then yourselves. Blessedly, you have not encountered anything as of yet, but the amount of people on the roads may be dissuading creatures from attacking, and at night, you have found security with other caravans.
At night you spend time playing music an games around a fire, and taking turns, guarding 2 at a time or more, depending on the size of the caravan. Occasionally, you see in the distance a creature or 2 moving about the woods, but they never seem to approach. It is as likely a beastie as a Deer.
On the 3rd day, you reach the road of Triboar trail, the road that Hilda told you of. Turning east, the road changes from paved with stone and sand, to a well worn dirt path. The lack of frequent caravans makes and the more narrow road with woods encroaching on all sides makes the road feel dark, unsettling, and distinctly alone. After about 2 hours, as is your rutine, you rotate your guard and who is riding, so that everyone stays as fresh as possible in case of a situation. You see a posted sign that says 10 miles to Phandalin.
(Where is everyone currently? There is the Driver, 1 more seat on the bench, and 1 "sort of seat" on top of the crates and canvas of the wagon. That leaves 3 people walking. What sides are those people walking on: Front, back, left, right?)
The paladin walks alongside the driver, he is curious of what they are going to see and encounter once the left the vicinity of Neverwinter as he had never left the city before.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Morgan lets out a quiet groan at Caradoc's greeting, making eye contact with Cyrnair once again.
*As if the bard wasn't going to be bad enough...*
For the two days on the road with other caravans, Morgan will keep up with her usual routine in such circumstances. Using her Light cantrip as much as possible to conserve torches and lantern oil, Prestidigitation for lighting cookfires and general cleaning, and Mending to repair any tools or equipment damaged on the road.
While actually on the road, Morgan would either be at Hrogar's reins herself, or seated next to whoever currently is.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Gelin will rotate driving duties with Morgan, completely oblivious to her disdain for him. While he believes himself to be an excellent driver, he is decidedly not.
Adventure Introduction
With the world so recently suffering from the great Magic loss, now known as "The Knowledge Sealing" some 1 hundred years back the Swords Coast is in a state of flux. Powerful entities are making a grab for power, cities are fortifying, and a new boom of wealth, fame, and fortune is being found by anyone that can learn magical secrets. Through various means, all of you have found yourselves in the city of Neverwinter. A large walled port city west of the Neverwinter Wood, and one of the most northward civilizations in the entire of the Swords Coast.
Life has been hard over the past 100 years, but even more so within Neverwinter. With creatures great and small swarming over the countryside, and winter on the way, food is becoming difficult to afford at a reasonable rate, and you have burned through what coin you had. Fortunately, your sets of unique talents have not gone without notice. An Inn and tavern that you all frequent is run by a stout Dwarven male in his middle years named Gundren Rockseer. He is a balding redhead with a lush red nose and a laugh that boarders on wheezing madness, but he is a good fellow.
The 6 of you have done jobs for him in the past here and there, but last night, all of you received letters under your door. It reads
My good friends! I have an opportunity for you that will pay you through the winter and more. I will be setting up shot in a small village south of here called Phandalin. I will be sending wagonloads of materials back of forward, but I need some strong hands to protect it. The ride will provide you with 10 gold each time you make the trip. The trip there and back is about 4 days, and I will be needing a new load of materials every 2 weeks. I am leaving tonight with Sildar Hallwinter as a guard. Meet my daughter outside of the "Stout and Red" tomorrow morning and she will have the wagon ready.
Within the letter, you find 5 Gold already paid down, knowing that you may be low on funds. As you all meet up outside of the wagon, Gundren's Stout but attractive red headed daughter that looks to have some human in her genes smiles at the lot of you "Take the road south along the high road until you get to Triboar Trial. Take that east and you will see a signpost for Phandalin. Be safe out there... especially at night. Lots of beasties."
As a group, you have spent the past 2 days now traveling along the road, and you have passed many other caravans with similar or heavier guards then yourselves. Blessedly, you have not encountered anything as of yet, but the amount of people on the roads may be dissuading creatures from attacking, and at night, you have found security with other caravans.
You have since turned off the High Road, and have started down on Triboar trail.
OOC: Now is a good time to introduce yourselves. You may or may not have met each other before this doing jobs for Gundren, or you may not. It is up to you.
Having left 3 gold pieces in the hands of a family at the Protector's Enclave that he knew had had a baby in the recent weeks, Cyrnair almost doesn't make to the meet in time. He greets Gundren's daughter with a smile and a sincere shake of hand, grabbing her from the forearm as she did to him.
"Your father should have waited for me " the tall aasimar says "He would be better protected with the Morning Lord at his side "
Indeed he wore a white tabard with the symbol of Lathander embroided on it. The same symbol that was engraved on the shield he wore at his back. The pommel of his sword was adorned with a rising sun at the tip of it. Stading nearly 7 feet tall he was an imposing figure talking over the dwarf.
He wore a chain mail under the tabard and the longsword that was on his hip seemed to be his only weaponry. He left the hood of his cape down, enjoying the morning sun and the gentle but fresh breeze while he walked toward the meeting. His blond hair and clear grey eyes were radiant, as if they glow with an internal light. His voice was calm and low, inviting to relaz when he talked but powerful when he shout at battle as their peers at the temple knew.
"Tell me. Have the others arrived?"
PbP Character: A few ;)
*One of us has.*
Cyrnair hears the voice but not with his ears, and he recognizes the mental voice of Morgan, who he has worked with a couple of times before. Looking past Hildred toward the wagon, he notes the familiar sight of Hrogar, Morgan's faithful Clydesdale, being hitched to the wagon by the dark-haired young woman herself. She doesn't meet his gaze, focusing on the task of making sure Hrogar is set to go.
OoC: DM, I hope you don't mind me giving the daughter a name. I just didn't want her to be only referred to as Gundren's daughter or the dwarf woman.
The aasimar smiles
"It's good to see you Morgan. At least I am not the last one this time!" he then turns to Hildred "Do you know how many guards has your father hired this time?"
PbP Character: A few ;)
*Good morning to you as well, Cyrnair,* comes the silent response as Morgan finishes with Hrogar and gives him an affectionate pat on the neck. She then makes her way to stand next to Hildred and the aasimar. She herself stands only five and a half feet tall, and so is also rather dwarfed by the tall paladin. She brushes off a few stray bits of hay from her dark robes before speaking audibly to Hildred.
"Good question. Who can we expect?"
https://drive.google.com/open?id=1s-XqyS2B7Tx1Ddo6Gyc3Be9iIUsff4KJ
Yes, I know this is actually an image for a male Fire Emblem character, but I think it works well for a mildly androgynous female character as well.
Edit: Ugh...why can't I get this to work?... :(
Edit2: Okay, that's the best I can figure out to do.
“Baryeras the ranger” Hildred says, smiling at the large horse and pulling her step stool away from the horse. ”Caradoc that roguish Halfling that steels hearts, Gelin the love of my life...”she says with a blush “and Frixori the Tiefling. I am not sure what she can do though.”
A black haired dwarf has just come into earshot, "Heh heh. Love of your life... you and many others, lass." Though he looks as dwarven as they come, even down to the battleaxe slung across his back, his affectations are decidedly not typical of other dwarves. His beard and hair are very well kempt and it looks like his hands haven't seen a day of hard labor in their lives. His jovial tone is accented by a lively rhythm played on a makeshift drum slung under his arm, seemingly accenting just the right parts of his sentences. "Gelin Stonefist, at your service." He doffs an imaginary cap to the assembled party. "Seems I'm not as late as I thought; the ballads of heroes rarely tell tale of the mind-numbing amounts of waiting adventuring entails." He sits down on the most comfortable rock he can find and hums as the rhythmic drumming resumes.
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
"Tell tale...entails?" Morgan quietly mutters to herself at the unfamiliar dwarf's words. She gets a sinking feeling in her stomach as she shares a look with Cyrnair.
*PLEASE tell me he won't be as bad as the LAST bard we worked with...*
Pic of Frixori
Having trouble inserted an image too.
* The Morning Lord wouldn’t be so cruel * the aasimar replies to Morgan
“Well met everyone “ says the aasimar º I am Cyrnair Thonrar, humble servant of Lathander, Lord of the morning. At your service.”
PbP Character: A few ;)
"Wait wait wait!" you hear in high-pitched tones from within the Stout and Red. "You have a very complicated name! You can't expect me to get it right EVERY time! We just met, for goodness' sake!"
"My name is Ruth. Rhymes with truth, something you must not be very familiar with!" replies another voice, punctuated by the sound of a slap.
"But -" SMACK - the slap cuts off the response. Then you hear what might be a chuckle? "You're not far off the mark there. I'm sorry, Ruth. Truly I am. You would not send your friend off into danger with such a parting blow, now would you?"
SMACK!
A halfling saunters out of the Stout and Red, daggers at his hips and a shortsword slung under his pack. Both cheeks are even rosier than usual for a halfling, and one still retains Ruth's red fingermarks. "I guess she would, after all," he murmurs to himself.
"Oh, hey gang! Cyrnair, don't lecture me this early in the morning - please? We've got days and days for you to try and correct my ways. Morgan... oh Morgan. My heart trembles at the very sight of you. And you must be the daughter of Gundren Rockseeker! Long days and pleasant nights to you!" He reaches up to give her the same forearm shake she shared with Gelin.
He glances around and sees the dwarf and the tiefling, whom he can't recall having met before. "Well met to you both! Caradoc Langham, at your service!" he announces, bowing with a grin.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Hilda smiles at the Halfling with a knowing smile "Your smooth tongue may work on my patrons, but you best keep that tongue in check around me, or you wont be using it much longer." She says with a snort. (Conversation can be Retconned moving forward in OOC if you wish)
Looking to Gelin, she smiles sweetly "Come now darling... Surely you remember our night together. I know you have many other suitors, but surely you at least remember that. I know what I was signing up for. I don't expect you to be exclusive to me, but don't be so cruel as that." (Conversation can be Retconned moving forward in OOC if you wish)
Hilda looks to the rest of the group as they get situated to take the wagon drawn by the Clydesdale. "Its a dangerous ride with winter coming. Lots of bandits and creatures that would take my fathers things. Be careful and be on the lookout. Take the road south along the high road until you get to Triboar Trial. Take that east and you will see a signpost for Phandalin. Be safe out there... especially at night. Lots of beasties." (Conversation can be Retconned moving forward in OOC if you wish)
The leaving of the city of Neverwinter is bittersweet for some of you. It is nice to be out and about and have purpose, but the safety of the city and a warm bed is hard to pass up. The fall air is clearly moving into winter, and the location of Neverwinter is markedly north of the equator.
As a group, you have spent the past 2 days now traveling along the road, and you have passed many other caravans with similar or heavier guards then yourselves. Blessedly, you have not encountered anything as of yet, but the amount of people on the roads may be dissuading creatures from attacking, and at night, you have found security with other caravans.
At night you spend time playing music an games around a fire, and taking turns, guarding 2 at a time or more, depending on the size of the caravan. Occasionally, you see in the distance a creature or 2 moving about the woods, but they never seem to approach. It is as likely a beastie as a Deer.
On the 3rd day, you reach the road of Triboar trail, the road that Hilda told you of. Turning east, the road changes from paved with stone and sand, to a well worn dirt path. The lack of frequent caravans makes and the more narrow road with woods encroaching on all sides makes the road feel dark, unsettling, and distinctly alone. After about 2 hours, as is your rutine, you rotate your guard and who is riding, so that everyone stays as fresh as possible in case of a situation. You see a posted sign that says 10 miles to Phandalin.
(Where is everyone currently? There is the Driver, 1 more seat on the bench, and 1 "sort of seat" on top of the crates and canvas of the wagon. That leaves 3 people walking. What sides are those people walking on: Front, back, left, right?)
The paladin walks alongside the driver, he is curious of what they are going to see and encounter once the left the vicinity of Neverwinter as he had never left the city before.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Frixori is in the back of the wagon with the crates with a nose in her book.
OOC: are we meeting the ranger on the way?
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Morgan lets out a quiet groan at Caradoc's greeting, making eye contact with Cyrnair once again.
*As if the bard wasn't going to be bad enough...*
For the two days on the road with other caravans, Morgan will keep up with her usual routine in such circumstances. Using her Light cantrip as much as possible to conserve torches and lantern oil, Prestidigitation for lighting cookfires and general cleaning, and Mending to repair any tools or equipment damaged on the road.
While actually on the road, Morgan would either be at Hrogar's reins herself, or seated next to whoever currently is.
Caradoc skips along ahead of the wagon, with his shortbow in his hand. Not out of sight or anything like that, but out front.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Gelin will rotate driving duties with Morgan, completely oblivious to her disdain for him. While he believes himself to be an excellent driver, he is decidedly not.
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
"Not so rough with the reins! Hrogar knows what he's doing. You don't need anything more than a gentle tug!"