Those of you with knowledge of Elturel's history are aware of the vampire that once ruled it. Under his rule, his legion of undead terrorised the city. That was until the appearance of the Champion in the sky which drove the vampire and his minions back into the shadows.
To this day, the Champion has been a beacon in the sky. Ever burning. Every shining.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Orith awoke with a start, sitting up in bed rapidly and grabbing one of his axes, fumbling with it for a moment due to the layer of sweat on his golden scaled skin during the night. Looking around the room wide-eyed his rapid breathing began to calm as he realized it was just the nightmare again. He hadn't had it in a long time, and he had hoped he never would again. He preferred to look to the future instead of the past, but some small part of his subconscious kept calling back to the destruction of Arush Vayem. The screams of the dying... the loud thumps of the giant clubs impacting his scaled skin...
Orith shook his head as if to clear the thoughts from his head. "Get up you lazy dragonborn, you've no time to start feeling sorry for yourself again."He smiled as he spoke to himself in jest. "Arush Vayem rebuilt itself, and so did you... time to move on." He pulled himself out of bed and grabbed a cloth nearby to dry off with before taking his bed clothes and hanging them as best as he can to allow them to dry thoroughly as well.
Stepping over to the table with a slight limp, he takes up his long swords and practices using them at the same time, but the weights still just don't feel right to him yet. Vowing to keep working at it, he sheathes them and takes up his axes, one in each hand. Staring intently at the first one, his eyes begin to glow with an orange-yellow fire and a rune shimmers into existence on one side of the blade. Looking at the second axe, his eyes turn a blackish grey, looking almost stone-like as a different rune forms on that blade. As his eyes become normal, he closes them and says a quick prayer to Bahamut for clarity of the mind and soul and begins the task of donning his chainmail.
After securing his gear and armor, Orith will stop by the Antlers before his shift on the city guard to grab a quick morning meal.
You see a middle aged man with white hair and beard and dark clothes. He wears no armor and has a sword and bow across his back. You see him talking off to the side with the owner of a business. He's writing something down in a journal. His face is one of intent, as if to capture every part of what the business woman is saying. When she is done talking you see his face soften and he seems to be reassuring her of something. She looks more relieved at that and nods and even smiles. He nods and strolls around the sales floor, specifically the windows and doors. You also catch him looking your way. He walks in your direction, smiles and nods and keeps walking by (presuming you had nothing to say). He walks out of the business and walks around the front looking intently around. He then walks on, taking out his pen and writing more in the journal. If anyone asks "Who was that" they would say "That's Woad he's one of the people that guard this town. He's just picking up some additional work finding the gang that's been harassing some of the businesses on this street.
Damian Ravenshade had been in Elturel for over a week now, sent by his patriar family of Baldur's Gate to seal some trading deals with business partners along the river Chiontar to reach further inland to Scornubel and Berdusk. He couldn't wait to leave the city now, it's citizens more than a little smug he found over that glaring orb in the sky, destroying his sleep if it not were for the heavy velvet curtains at his room on Symbril's House. He did however find it fairly amusing, dealing with people believing themselves having a moral high ground that actually turned into a sink hole when dealing with someone versed in law and the fine print of contracts. The contracts were signed though and unless that orb suddenly fell from the sky he would be more than happy to leave Elturel now.
"Aw, did you hurt yourself?" Quill stooped down to bring herself to the height of the urchin whose tumble she'd witnessed. Her lightly accented voice identified her as an outsider to the city. Though she'd been raised in Baldur's Gate, her family's constant travels had left their mark on her in more than one way. Her accent was one of those alterations, giving her tone a lilting cadence. Her tail curled around her ankles, almost fully concealed beneath the sweep of her heavy cloak. The child looked startled, his tears frozen on his cheeks at the unexpected appearance of the blue-skinned tiefling. The boy didn't reply to her original inquiry, so Quill reached out to take his arm, clicking her tongue at the torn, bloodied skin of his elbow.
"That's quite the tumble."She said sympathetically. Quill reached up to grasp the amulet dangling at her throat. The adornment was embossed with a skeletal hand uplifting a set of scales. As her fingers closed around the amulet, she closed her eyes and whispered a soft prayer. The words flowed like honey, flowing across the air like a warm breeze. Heat built in her hand and with a gentle push, she completed the spell, sending the healing energy into the child. The gash at his elbow healed, leaving behind little more than a reddened patch of skin and the remnants of blood. Quill smiled. "Better now?"The boy nodded, his eyes wide with shock. "Good." She dropped the amulet and dug into her belt pouch, producing a piece of crystalized sugar.
She handed the sweet to the boy. "Go on, then. Be more careful where you play. You'll not always have a healer about." As the child scrambled to his feet and raced away, Quill rose back to her feet and looked around. She'd been distracted after having seen the child fall and was more than a little turned around. Gods curse the architect who'd designed the layout of this backwards city. She'd meant to make her way to the temple. But if her original directions had been correct, she should have passed the structure some time ago. With a sigh, Quill moved to retrace her steps yet again. It wasn't the first time she'd gotten turned around walking the streets of Elturel and would likely not be the last. At least it was good exercise...
Harlan looked around the book shop, pausing in the entrance. He peered nervously with wide, pale eyes, not at the shop staff, the shelves of tomes and scrolls, or even the other customers. He seemed to search the shadows in the corners, and winced at whatever he found there.
A slight, short man, he looked like a shell of whoever he had once been - his scholars robes now faded and grubby, bright white hair and beard grown long and untamed. He made his way over to the counter and rested his hands on it with a bright smile at the shop clerk. But he looked down at his hands and the smile faded. The hands of an old man, skin slack and translucent, veins and tendons pressing through the thin layers of wrinkled flesh. He still couldn't get used to it, and the sight took him back to where he had escaped barely 3 months ago.
The shop clerk watched in confusion as the old man seemed to become petrified at the sight of his own hands, staring at them on the counter, shaking slightly. "Excuse me sir?" he interrupted. Harlan broke from whatever horror his mind had filled with and flicked his gaze towards the clerk eyes wide. "Ahaha, yes, sorry. I'm looking for..." Suddenly he glanced behind him. "I, uh, I would like..." He shook his head violently, and put his hands over his ears. "I would, I would like..." he tried again, getting increasingly loud, as if he were trying to make himself heard over a growing noise, until he whimpered gently "Too many, too many." Fumbling in his robes he turned suddenly for the door, knocking into a pile of books before he reached the street, where he collapsed against a wall in the glare of the second sun which hung just above the city.
Pulling a crystal orb from his robes he pressed it against his head for a full minute, and when he pulled it away he seemed calmer. "I shouldn't have come here. This was a bad idea."
"No the room has been quite satisfactory, you're not to blame for that thing in the sky making it impossible to tell day from night." Damian said to the Innkeeper of Symbril's House as he checked out. As he came outside the stable boy had his pitch-black mare ready for him and moments later he slowly rode down the streets of Elturel towards the Glowing Goblet where he would have his morning meal before returning to Baldur's Gate. "No, of course I don't need my boots polished, are you insinuating they are in need of your services or are you just a simple beggar?" He said to the young boy scurrying alongside his steed. It was unfathomable to him how Elturel could do without upper class districts like they had in Baldur's Gate, where a patriar could ride unmolested by the city's rabble. Still, the poor was apparently needed to keep business flowing, or so he heard.
Gilbert splashed water on his face before scrubbing his teeth and running a hand through his hair. He stretched a bit, wincing at the sore muscles and bruises from yesterday's patrol. His patrol had run into a probing group of goblins, looking for weakness in the defenses of Elturel no doubt. Nothing a well-trained group of men like the Hellriders couldn't handle. But he did take a hard jab to the shoulder from a pike, and although it didn't actually penetrate his plate armor, it left a nasty welt. Not to mention the half-dozen of blows up and down his arms and legs. from maces and a shortsword or two. He reached over to his shelf and grabbed some of Persear's "famous" ointment and quickly rubbed it into the areas that hurt the most, sighing as the magic took hold and the last remnants of pain vanished.
He donned a clean shirt that his squire left out last night, and pulled on his pants before heading over to the blacksmith to pick up his armor.
"Marcus, how did it go? Is my plate ready?" He flashed a wry grin to armorer.
Marcus whirled around and nearly took off his head with a pair of red-hot tongs. "Ye know very well, that in the past 12 years since ye were a wee one training in the yards that I have always had your armor repaired, painted and polished before the sun comes up over the yonder mountain!"
It was a familiar verbal sparring match the two shared daily. Gilbert snorted "Aye! But that pike nearly took my arm off yesterday, I figured the dent and creased metal were too much a match for the likes of you my good friend." he said with a wink.
Marcus roared "Never have I been so insulted. Out with ye! Your plates in the normal storage rack." Then he waved his free hand off to the right doorway.
Gilbert gave Marcus a quick mock-salute and went in and collected his armor before heading to the prep room. He carefully and reverently placed the armor on his designated stand in the prep room, admiring Marcus' and his apprentices handiwork. "Never a scratch or a flaw" he muttered to himself. He flicked away a non existent speck of dirt and rubbed at it with his shirt. The room was bustling with activity as Hellriders and their squires were prepping for the upcoming day. Just as Gilbert was about to holler for his squire, Jonathan, a bugle horn blasted through the air followed by a loud voice that echoed through the prep room "Assembly in the courtyard, Hellriders!"
Gilbert grabbed his armor under padding and threw it over his head and rushed to the courtyard, not sure what exactly to expect.
Orith opens the door to the Antlers and finds the usual sight inside. A dimly lit tavern constructed from wooden panels. Even at this hour, the air was smoky because of the poorly constructed fireplace. The wooden walls are heavily decorated with older battered weaponry and shields, as well as the trophies taken from various monsters that had been beaten and killed in battle by adventurers.
Of course, the most prominent of all of the decorations found around the tavern is the enormous rack of antlers taken from stags. It is this collection of antlers that the tavern is of course named after.
A number of other people were already sitting inside enjoying an early meal talking amongst themselves. None of which take any interest in you as you move around the tavern.
@GM_Mustang
As you go about your business. A number of people do stop to watch as you walk by. They know you by reputation as being part of the force policing the streets of Elturel. Some do shift under your gaze even though you greet them with friendly courtesy. Perhaps they are hiding something and are concerned that they would be questioned. Others, however, just simply return the greeting.
You do hear some whispering behind you though as others exchange the gossip of seeing you in their part of the city.
@Oberon
Hearing you talk down to the young boy, others start tutting in reaction clearly not happy with your behaviour. You feel their eyes staring at you as you continue down the road until you are out of sight. As you continue on your way, others scramble to get out of the way of your horse and even pull a few of their relatives, friends and neighbours with them too.
@PerfectSnowAngel
The people look at you with friendly eyes, greeting you with warm smiles. They are moved by your act of kindness and generosity to a small child who had simply injured themselves whilst playing. Your actions even motivate one person, a human man who seemed to be getting on in age, at least in human terms, to speak to you.
"By any chance, would you be lost?"
@EMIW
Your strange and wild actions leave many people around you looking bewildered. They watch as you flee the area, jumping out of the way as you run. However, it is only a few moments after you are out of sight that they continue on their way as if nothing had happened.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Then you notice that whilst the day had been bright as always under the Champion, everything was darker. The shadows of the city grew and spread across the floor, and the temperature cooled a little.
People all around you start looking up at the sky staring with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Then they begin panicking, screaming, crying, shouting and running in all directions.
Then there's the sound of stone crumbling above you. A few loose chunks of stone and rock falling down into the roads around you.
You look up, and then you see it. The very thing that has caused mass panic in the city of Elturel.
The once bright burning Champion has turned dark. And it has begun pulling the tops of the tallest buildings in the city into itself.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Woad looks up and seeing the encroaching disaster he begins to direct people in a commanding voice to seek move away and seek shelter. He also begins to look for heroic expressions to face the coming challenge.
Damian noted the increased respect he was given as he rode towards the Glowing Goblet. Just ready to dismount by the tavern he noticed the rabble panicking all around him, but what could one expect from lowborns. After a moment he was however almost hit by a chunk of stone that struck the ground close to his pith-black mare making her rear up before he regained control of her. He looked up in the sky and witnessed the cataclysm above him, looking at what transpired in awe for a moment before self preservation took over, making him turn his steed and gallop for Baldur's gate, his blood red mantle fluttering behind him. "Out of my way rabble!" He hadn't really expected his wish to come true while still being in Elturel.
This was unthinkable. The Champion which had stood guardian over Elturel for decades seemed to have turned upon its ward. A black sun now hung over the city, and shadows were rushing back into streets which had known nothing but light for almost all of Harlan's life.
As the growing darkness seems to stretch towards him, Harlan backs away into any remaining light he can find.
"No... No! This is all wrong!"The Champion was the very reason he had come to Elturel in the first place - a city of unending light, which never knew night, it was the closest he had come to peace in months. But now that peace was ended, and he had to get out of the city. He starts to work his way through the throng of panicking citizens towards the nearest city gate.
"I am."Quill admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. "Perhaps you can give me directions. I was hoping to go to..." Quill trailed off as a shadow fell across the ground. A sudden chill ran across her skin. It happened so suddenly, she found her gaze frozen on the older gentleman who'd offered to aid her. His expression had shifted, turned from a friendly openness to wide-mouthed horror, his eyes blindly staring at the sky over her shoulder. Even after such a short time in Elturel, she'd become so used to the brilliant illumination of the Champion burning hour after hour ceaselessly. To have that light be suddenly extinguished...
Turning, she looked to the sky and found her own mouth falling open at the sight, a helpless echo of the horror the old man had shown. The Champion had gone dark. And even as she watched, dark pieces of rubble began to lift into the sky toward the black sphere. With a shock, she realized that the dark shapes she could see drawing close to the Champion were the upper portions of buildings, crumbling, flaking, and lifting into the sky toward the blackened sun. It was like the terrible maw of some celestial beast, Quill thought, horrified. A black hole from which nothing could escape.
Her terror might have frozen her in place if not for the sudden collision. A harsh smack of her shoulder against another's as they raced past her motionless form. People were screaming, Quill realized. Running. Fleeing from the encroaching devastation. Trying to escape the terror of what was happening. Finding herself in their path, she was rapidly swept along, fighting to try and escape the crush of frenzied individuals. She wasn't certain what had happened to the older man who'd offered to assist her. He'd been swallowed up by the mass as rapidly as she had been.
Eventually fighting her way to one edge of the crowd, Quill took refuge in a doorway. Her gaze darted over the swarming mass of people, searching for anyone of authority. Surely someone had to know what was happening...
Orith had barely finished his meal when the screams started happening outside. Bolting up, he headed towards the door with a start, tossing a gold piece to the barkeep since he had no time to count out change. Rushing outside, he saw the panic and fear in peoples eyes as they run almost stampede like in different directions. Seeing a small girl close to being trampled by several people, Orith runs forward, bulling his way through a few people to grab the girl up and get her to the safety of her panicked mother's arms nearby.
As he begins to ask the woman what all the commotion is, he realizes the radiance that always lights up the streets is gone. Looking up, he sees the inky blackness of the champion gone dark. Noting the buildings beginning to crumble and the rubble drifting up instead of falling down and being consumed by the black mass above, Orith gasps, "How has this come to pass?"
As people continue to run around the city in panic, some seeking shelters, others attempting to get out of the city, you hear the dark orb making a droning noise. It is a sound like that of which you have never heard before. The sound is chilling.
@GR_Mustang
People, for the most part, choose to ignore your instructions of seeking shelter. Instead, you see most people fleeing towards the outskirts of the city. Soon you find yourself standing alone under the black orb.
@Oberon99
You knock a few people over as you head towards the nearest town exit.
@EMIW
As you look for a sign of authority in the city, the mass of people pushes you through the doorway.
@Felgrimm
The woman snatches up her daughter and in her haste, she forgets to thank you for saving her child.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Pushed to the side of the road by the surge of people rushing for the city gate, Harlan finds himself almost crushed under their feet. Feeling his way along a wall, he ducks into the first open door he finds.
Wracking his brain he tries to think through the panic - what could be causing this? Arcana15
What sort of room/building is this? Is there anyone else inside?
Just as Gilbert reached the courtyard for the announcement, everything began to darken and the buildings began to shake. He looked in to the sky and saw the tops of the tallest buildings of the Hellrider fortress being sucked up into the sky into a swirling vortex left behind in the absence of the Champion's light. Gilbert dropped to his knees and grabbed his pendant and began praying. He finished a quick prayer and looked around seeing many of his brothers praying or finishing their prayers. These were men of action, and panic was not in their nature, but there was a short time of chaos while the Hellriders organized themselves.
Gilbert himself stands and quickly scans the grounds for his mentor and captain, as well as his squire.
Those of you with knowledge of Elturel's history are aware of the vampire that once ruled it. Under his rule, his legion of undead terrorised the city. That was until the appearance of the Champion in the sky which drove the vampire and his minions back into the shadows.
To this day, the Champion has been a beacon in the sky. Ever burning. Every shining.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Orith awoke with a start, sitting up in bed rapidly and grabbing one of his axes, fumbling with it for a moment due to the layer of sweat on his golden scaled skin during the night. Looking around the room wide-eyed his rapid breathing began to calm as he realized it was just the nightmare again. He hadn't had it in a long time, and he had hoped he never would again. He preferred to look to the future instead of the past, but some small part of his subconscious kept calling back to the destruction of Arush Vayem. The screams of the dying... the loud thumps of the giant clubs impacting his scaled skin...
Orith shook his head as if to clear the thoughts from his head. "Get up you lazy dragonborn, you've no time to start feeling sorry for yourself again." He smiled as he spoke to himself in jest. "Arush Vayem rebuilt itself, and so did you... time to move on." He pulled himself out of bed and grabbed a cloth nearby to dry off with before taking his bed clothes and hanging them as best as he can to allow them to dry thoroughly as well.
Stepping over to the table with a slight limp, he takes up his long swords and practices using them at the same time, but the weights still just don't feel right to him yet. Vowing to keep working at it, he sheathes them and takes up his axes, one in each hand. Staring intently at the first one, his eyes begin to glow with an orange-yellow fire and a rune shimmers into existence on one side of the blade. Looking at the second axe, his eyes turn a blackish grey, looking almost stone-like as a different rune forms on that blade. As his eyes become normal, he closes them and says a quick prayer to Bahamut for clarity of the mind and soul and begins the task of donning his chainmail.
After securing his gear and armor, Orith will stop by the Antlers before his shift on the city guard to grab a quick morning meal.
You see a middle aged man with white hair and beard and dark clothes. He wears no armor and has a sword and bow across his back. You see him talking off to the side with the owner of a business. He's writing something down in a journal. His face is one of intent, as if to capture every part of what the business woman is saying. When she is done talking you see his face soften and he seems to be reassuring her of something. She looks more relieved at that and nods and even smiles. He nods and strolls around the sales floor, specifically the windows and doors. You also catch him looking your way. He walks in your direction, smiles and nods and keeps walking by (presuming you had nothing to say). He walks out of the business and walks around the front looking intently around. He then walks on, taking out his pen and writing more in the journal. If anyone asks "Who was that" they would say "That's Woad he's one of the people that guard this town. He's just picking up some additional work finding the gang that's been harassing some of the businesses on this street.
D&D since 1984
Damian Ravenshade had been in Elturel for over a week now, sent by his patriar family of Baldur's Gate to seal some trading deals with business partners along the river Chiontar to reach further inland to Scornubel and Berdusk. He couldn't wait to leave the city now, it's citizens more than a little smug he found over that glaring orb in the sky, destroying his sleep if it not were for the heavy velvet curtains at his room on Symbril's House. He did however find it fairly amusing, dealing with people believing themselves having a moral high ground that actually turned into a sink hole when dealing with someone versed in law and the fine print of contracts. The contracts were signed though and unless that orb suddenly fell from the sky he would be more than happy to leave Elturel now.
"Aw, did you hurt yourself?" Quill stooped down to bring herself to the height of the urchin whose tumble she'd witnessed. Her lightly accented voice identified her as an outsider to the city. Though she'd been raised in Baldur's Gate, her family's constant travels had left their mark on her in more than one way. Her accent was one of those alterations, giving her tone a lilting cadence. Her tail curled around her ankles, almost fully concealed beneath the sweep of her heavy cloak. The child looked startled, his tears frozen on his cheeks at the unexpected appearance of the blue-skinned tiefling. The boy didn't reply to her original inquiry, so Quill reached out to take his arm, clicking her tongue at the torn, bloodied skin of his elbow.
"That's quite the tumble." She said sympathetically. Quill reached up to grasp the amulet dangling at her throat. The adornment was embossed with a skeletal hand uplifting a set of scales. As her fingers closed around the amulet, she closed her eyes and whispered a soft prayer. The words flowed like honey, flowing across the air like a warm breeze. Heat built in her hand and with a gentle push, she completed the spell, sending the healing energy into the child. The gash at his elbow healed, leaving behind little more than a reddened patch of skin and the remnants of blood. Quill smiled. "Better now?" The boy nodded, his eyes wide with shock. "Good." She dropped the amulet and dug into her belt pouch, producing a piece of crystalized sugar.
She handed the sweet to the boy. "Go on, then. Be more careful where you play. You'll not always have a healer about." As the child scrambled to his feet and raced away, Quill rose back to her feet and looked around. She'd been distracted after having seen the child fall and was more than a little turned around. Gods curse the architect who'd designed the layout of this backwards city. She'd meant to make her way to the temple. But if her original directions had been correct, she should have passed the structure some time ago. With a sigh, Quill moved to retrace her steps yet again. It wasn't the first time she'd gotten turned around walking the streets of Elturel and would likely not be the last. At least it was good exercise...
Harlan looked around the book shop, pausing in the entrance. He peered nervously with wide, pale eyes, not at the shop staff, the shelves of tomes and scrolls, or even the other customers. He seemed to search the shadows in the corners, and winced at whatever he found there.
A slight, short man, he looked like a shell of whoever he had once been - his scholars robes now faded and grubby, bright white hair and beard grown long and untamed. He made his way over to the counter and rested his hands on it with a bright smile at the shop clerk. But he looked down at his hands and the smile faded. The hands of an old man, skin slack and translucent, veins and tendons pressing through the thin layers of wrinkled flesh. He still couldn't get used to it, and the sight took him back to where he had escaped barely 3 months ago.
The shop clerk watched in confusion as the old man seemed to become petrified at the sight of his own hands, staring at them on the counter, shaking slightly. "Excuse me sir?" he interrupted. Harlan broke from whatever horror his mind had filled with and flicked his gaze towards the clerk eyes wide. "Ahaha, yes, sorry. I'm looking for..." Suddenly he glanced behind him. "I, uh, I would like..." He shook his head violently, and put his hands over his ears. "I would, I would like..." he tried again, getting increasingly loud, as if he were trying to make himself heard over a growing noise, until he whimpered gently "Too many, too many." Fumbling in his robes he turned suddenly for the door, knocking into a pile of books before he reached the street, where he collapsed against a wall in the glare of the second sun which hung just above the city.
Pulling a crystal orb from his robes he pressed it against his head for a full minute, and when he pulled it away he seemed calmer. "I shouldn't have come here. This was a bad idea."
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
"No the room has been quite satisfactory, you're not to blame for that thing in the sky making it impossible to tell day from night." Damian said to the Innkeeper of Symbril's House as he checked out. As he came outside the stable boy had his pitch-black mare ready for him and moments later he slowly rode down the streets of Elturel towards the Glowing Goblet where he would have his morning meal before returning to Baldur's Gate. "No, of course I don't need my boots polished, are you insinuating they are in need of your services or are you just a simple beggar?" He said to the young boy scurrying alongside his steed. It was unfathomable to him how Elturel could do without upper class districts like they had in Baldur's Gate, where a patriar could ride unmolested by the city's rabble. Still, the poor was apparently needed to keep business flowing, or so he heard.
Gilbert splashed water on his face before scrubbing his teeth and running a hand through his hair. He stretched a bit, wincing at the sore muscles and bruises from yesterday's patrol. His patrol had run into a probing group of goblins, looking for weakness in the defenses of Elturel no doubt. Nothing a well-trained group of men like the Hellriders couldn't handle. But he did take a hard jab to the shoulder from a pike, and although it didn't actually penetrate his plate armor, it left a nasty welt. Not to mention the half-dozen of blows up and down his arms and legs. from maces and a shortsword or two. He reached over to his shelf and grabbed some of Persear's "famous" ointment and quickly rubbed it into the areas that hurt the most, sighing as the magic took hold and the last remnants of pain vanished.
He donned a clean shirt that his squire left out last night, and pulled on his pants before heading over to the blacksmith to pick up his armor.
"Marcus, how did it go? Is my plate ready?" He flashed a wry grin to armorer.
Marcus whirled around and nearly took off his head with a pair of red-hot tongs. "Ye know very well, that in the past 12 years since ye were a wee one training in the yards that I have always had your armor repaired, painted and polished before the sun comes up over the yonder mountain!"
It was a familiar verbal sparring match the two shared daily. Gilbert snorted "Aye! But that pike nearly took my arm off yesterday, I figured the dent and creased metal were too much a match for the likes of you my good friend." he said with a wink.
Marcus roared "Never have I been so insulted. Out with ye! Your plates in the normal storage rack." Then he waved his free hand off to the right doorway.
Gilbert gave Marcus a quick mock-salute and went in and collected his armor before heading to the prep room. He carefully and reverently placed the armor on his designated stand in the prep room, admiring Marcus' and his apprentices handiwork. "Never a scratch or a flaw" he muttered to himself. He flicked away a non existent speck of dirt and rubbed at it with his shirt. The room was bustling with activity as Hellriders and their squires were prepping for the upcoming day. Just as Gilbert was about to holler for his squire, Jonathan, a bugle horn blasted through the air followed by a loud voice that echoed through the prep room "Assembly in the courtyard, Hellriders!"
Gilbert grabbed his armor under padding and threw it over his head and rushed to the courtyard, not sure what exactly to expect.
@Felgrimm
Orith opens the door to the Antlers and finds the usual sight inside. A dimly lit tavern constructed from wooden panels. Even at this hour, the air was smoky because of the poorly constructed fireplace. The wooden walls are heavily decorated with older battered weaponry and shields, as well as the trophies taken from various monsters that had been beaten and killed in battle by adventurers.
Of course, the most prominent of all of the decorations found around the tavern is the enormous rack of antlers taken from stags. It is this collection of antlers that the tavern is of course named after.
A number of other people were already sitting inside enjoying an early meal talking amongst themselves. None of which take any interest in you as you move around the tavern.
@GM_Mustang
As you go about your business. A number of people do stop to watch as you walk by. They know you by reputation as being part of the force policing the streets of Elturel. Some do shift under your gaze even though you greet them with friendly courtesy. Perhaps they are hiding something and are concerned that they would be questioned. Others, however, just simply return the greeting.
You do hear some whispering behind you though as others exchange the gossip of seeing you in their part of the city.
@Oberon
Hearing you talk down to the young boy, others start tutting in reaction clearly not happy with your behaviour. You feel their eyes staring at you as you continue down the road until you are out of sight. As you continue on your way, others scramble to get out of the way of your horse and even pull a few of their relatives, friends and neighbours with them too.
@PerfectSnowAngel
The people look at you with friendly eyes, greeting you with warm smiles. They are moved by your act of kindness and generosity to a small child who had simply injured themselves whilst playing. Your actions even motivate one person, a human man who seemed to be getting on in age, at least in human terms, to speak to you.
"By any chance, would you be lost?"
@EMIW
Your strange and wild actions leave many people around you looking bewildered. They watch as you flee the area, jumping out of the way as you run. However, it is only a few moments after you are out of sight that they continue on their way as if nothing had happened.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Then you notice that whilst the day had been bright as always under the Champion, everything was darker. The shadows of the city grew and spread across the floor, and the temperature cooled a little.
People all around you start looking up at the sky staring with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Then they begin panicking, screaming, crying, shouting and running in all directions.
Then there's the sound of stone crumbling above you. A few loose chunks of stone and rock falling down into the roads around you.
You look up, and then you see it. The very thing that has caused mass panic in the city of Elturel.
The once bright burning Champion has turned dark. And it has begun pulling the tops of the tallest buildings in the city into itself.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Woad looks up and seeing the encroaching disaster he begins to direct people in a commanding voice to seek move away and seek shelter. He also begins to look for heroic expressions to face the coming challenge.
D&D since 1984
Damian noted the increased respect he was given as he rode towards the Glowing Goblet. Just ready to dismount by the tavern he noticed the rabble panicking all around him, but what could one expect from lowborns. After a moment he was however almost hit by a chunk of stone that struck the ground close to his pith-black mare making her rear up before he regained control of her. He looked up in the sky and witnessed the cataclysm above him, looking at what transpired in awe for a moment before self preservation took over, making him turn his steed and gallop for Baldur's gate, his blood red mantle fluttering behind him. "Out of my way rabble!" He hadn't really expected his wish to come true while still being in Elturel.
This was unthinkable. The Champion which had stood guardian over Elturel for decades seemed to have turned upon its ward. A black sun now hung over the city, and shadows were rushing back into streets which had known nothing but light for almost all of Harlan's life.
As the growing darkness seems to stretch towards him, Harlan backs away into any remaining light he can find.
"No... No! This is all wrong!" The Champion was the very reason he had come to Elturel in the first place - a city of unending light, which never knew night, it was the closest he had come to peace in months. But now that peace was ended, and he had to get out of the city. He starts to work his way through the throng of panicking citizens towards the nearest city gate.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
"I am." Quill admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. "Perhaps you can give me directions. I was hoping to go to..." Quill trailed off as a shadow fell across the ground. A sudden chill ran across her skin. It happened so suddenly, she found her gaze frozen on the older gentleman who'd offered to aid her. His expression had shifted, turned from a friendly openness to wide-mouthed horror, his eyes blindly staring at the sky over her shoulder. Even after such a short time in Elturel, she'd become so used to the brilliant illumination of the Champion burning hour after hour ceaselessly. To have that light be suddenly extinguished...
Turning, she looked to the sky and found her own mouth falling open at the sight, a helpless echo of the horror the old man had shown. The Champion had gone dark. And even as she watched, dark pieces of rubble began to lift into the sky toward the black sphere. With a shock, she realized that the dark shapes she could see drawing close to the Champion were the upper portions of buildings, crumbling, flaking, and lifting into the sky toward the blackened sun. It was like the terrible maw of some celestial beast, Quill thought, horrified. A black hole from which nothing could escape.
Her terror might have frozen her in place if not for the sudden collision. A harsh smack of her shoulder against another's as they raced past her motionless form. People were screaming, Quill realized. Running. Fleeing from the encroaching devastation. Trying to escape the terror of what was happening. Finding herself in their path, she was rapidly swept along, fighting to try and escape the crush of frenzied individuals. She wasn't certain what had happened to the older man who'd offered to assist her. He'd been swallowed up by the mass as rapidly as she had been.
Eventually fighting her way to one edge of the crowd, Quill took refuge in a doorway. Her gaze darted over the swarming mass of people, searching for anyone of authority. Surely someone had to know what was happening...
Orith had barely finished his meal when the screams started happening outside. Bolting up, he headed towards the door with a start, tossing a gold piece to the barkeep since he had no time to count out change. Rushing outside, he saw the panic and fear in peoples eyes as they run almost stampede like in different directions. Seeing a small girl close to being trampled by several people, Orith runs forward, bulling his way through a few people to grab the girl up and get her to the safety of her panicked mother's arms nearby.
As he begins to ask the woman what all the commotion is, he realizes the radiance that always lights up the streets is gone. Looking up, he sees the inky blackness of the champion gone dark. Noting the buildings beginning to crumble and the rubble drifting up instead of falling down and being consumed by the black mass above, Orith gasps, "How has this come to pass?"
As people continue to run around the city in panic, some seeking shelters, others attempting to get out of the city, you hear the dark orb making a droning noise. It is a sound like that of which you have never heard before. The sound is chilling.
@GR_Mustang
People, for the most part, choose to ignore your instructions of seeking shelter. Instead, you see most people fleeing towards the outskirts of the city. Soon you find yourself standing alone under the black orb.
@Oberon99
You knock a few people over as you head towards the nearest town exit.
@EMIW
As you look for a sign of authority in the city, the mass of people pushes you through the doorway.
@Felgrimm
The woman snatches up her daughter and in her haste, she forgets to thank you for saving her child.
“The secret we should never let the gamemasters know is that they don't need any rules.” ― Gary Gygax
Pushed to the side of the road by the surge of people rushing for the city gate, Harlan finds himself almost crushed under their feet. Feeling his way along a wall, he ducks into the first open door he finds.
Wracking his brain he tries to think through the panic - what could be causing this?
Arcana 15
What sort of room/building is this? Is there anyone else inside?
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Seeing most people panic and fleeing, he moves to a point of cover where he can observe the black orb and not be in it's path.
D&D since 1984
Just as Gilbert reached the courtyard for the announcement, everything began to darken and the buildings began to shake. He looked in to the sky and saw the tops of the tallest buildings of the Hellrider fortress being sucked up into the sky into a swirling vortex left behind in the absence of the Champion's light. Gilbert dropped to his knees and grabbed his pendant and began praying. He finished a quick prayer and looked around seeing many of his brothers praying or finishing their prayers. These were men of action, and panic was not in their nature, but there was a short time of chaos while the Hellriders organized themselves.
Gilbert himself stands and quickly scans the grounds for his mentor and captain, as well as his squire.
Woad investigates the object
Investigation: 12
D&D since 1984