In the city of Neverwinter, a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker asked you to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin, a couple of days’ travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found “something big,” and that he’d pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen’s Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to “take care of business.”
You’ve spent the last few days following the High Road south from Neverwinter, and you’ve just recently veered east along the Triboar Trail. You’ve encountered no trouble so far, but this territory can be dangerous. Bandits and outlaws have been known to lurk along the trail.
I'm going to leave it up to you if you knew each other or not before this. You are escorting Gundren’s wagonload of supplies, one or two of you need to be driving the wagon. The rest can be riding on the wagon, walking alongside, scouting ahead, or whatever.
Tibern sat in the wagon in the most comfortable spot he could find, his lute in his hands as he moved his hands along the instrument as if he was playing. He was rather regal looking with how he dressed, wearing well fitting clothes that were a slick red and black worn underneath his well made leather armor. He wore his hair straight back with his horns rising from his forehead and going over the back of his head. The most distinguished thing he wore was a signet ring with the coat of arms for the noble house Onc on it, this being a falcon with a sword and axe in its talons.
For the moment though he did not as he was trying to decide what to play. He paused in his thoughts to look at the other members of the group, part of him wondering how his father Lord Onc would react to one of his family members doing what could be considered commoner work. The bard shrugged the thought off as he decided it was to give him new material for his songs.
With a sound as if he was clearing his throat, Tibern began to play his lute. He chose a common traveling song that most could hear in any tavern. His playing was not flashy but still clearly showed his skill, his blood red skinned tail flicking out to partially rest out of the wagon. Despite his laid back playing the self exiled noble did still have a flair for the dramatic and used his inate infernal magic to cause random sounds to briefly be heard as he cast Thaumaturgy.
A near giant of a man walks along beside the cart as it rolls along the Triboar Trail. Lothar is accustomed to walking, as he has spent the majority of time in the wilderness walking. His only companion is the greatsword tied to his back. He hails from the Earthspurs, but has been on the move ever since a band of orcs raided his family home and killed everyone in his village. He hopes one day to serve revenge on the orcs, and is constantly on the search for that band. He shares no love of orcs or goblins, and generally likes to keep to himself.
His wanderings have brought him to Neverwinter to possibly find out more about the orcs that destroyed his home. He has heard of the bandit and goblin attacks in the area, and he will stop at nothing to kill and destroy those who mercilessly slaughter without purpose.
Lothar is not a man of many words, but his words have purpose and are his bond. As he walks, he constantly scans the horizon for any sign of trouble. The dwarf, Gunden, spoke of bandits on the road, and his job is to be an escort. Ready at a moment's notice, Lothar prepares for the worst in his head. The bard's music is soothing, but not lulling him into carelessness.
Glen a fire genasi lurked out in the bushes ahead of the trail and the wagon searching for any sign of trouble. Glen has always been the non trusting type and only accepted this gig because of the coin he would earn. A long time ago glen lost every thing he loved and cared for as he was born a fire genasi in an earth genasi village, all it took was one temper tantrum when he was five and the hole place whent blazing. Because of this glen has learned to suppress his powers, as he vowed never to use them till the time was right and he felt that time may be coming up, the time to embrace his heritage. Until then he will forever shun what he is. When the great fire happened glen was left alone with no money so this opportunity was perfect for him to get some food in his stomach.
Vandar spends the days scouting along the path ahead of the cart on the opposite side of the path from Glen, keeping to the shadows and amongst cover as much as possible. His features are hard to make out, since he wears a long cloak with a deep hood he rarely lowers, preferring to remain hidden as much as possible. While he has come to know and trust his companions for the journey, he vastly prefers to spend his time alone and away from other people whenever possible.
(OOC: I put the 4 that I rolled for stats in Charisma, so I don't expect Vandar to be overly personable :P)
Bron walked along side the wagon on the opposite side of Lothar. After leaving the life of a soldier he allowed his dark brown hair to reach his shoulders, but he still kept his mustache and bread well groomed. Every now and then he would rub his left brow were a scar ran through it and part way down his cheek. Being a Merc for so long he forgot what it was like completing a mission in a group like when he was a soldier back in Raven's Bluff. He came to rely solely on his trusted greatsword that is strapped to his back and his scale mail even though it's seen plenty of battle and could use some repairs. Hearing the rumours that swirled around this mine sparked his interest and is the main reason why he wanted to be apart of this escort plus the gold wouldn't hurt.
You’ve been on the Triboar Trail for about half a day. The weather is pleasant and the sound of the lute drifts gently in the breeze as the wagon approaches a curve in the road.
Vandar slips silently through the brush on one side of the road, scouting ahead. Just as he comes to the bend he glances across the road and spots 2 goblins perched on a tree branch looking down at the approaching Genasi wizard Glen, with malice in their eyes.
Vandar realises he has time to make one move before the goblins attack Glen.
Vandar gets one action, then we can roll initiative. that's 1d20 Plus your initiative modifier. During combat please do nothing unless it is your turn in the initiative order, or you have a skill or ability that permits you to act during someone elses turn.
Tibern lazily moved his tail to keep the wagon on track as he continued to play a on his lute. He solid black eyes were trained ahead of him, mostly scanning the road ahead to make sure he did not let the wagon go off the trail. As his first song ended he decided to play something that was closer to what he had been taught to play as a younger man, this song much more refined then the drinking song he had played before.
Soon though his song ended and he tapped his hands on it. "Does anyone have a request for the next song?" He inquired, not even sure if any of his traveling companions would answer him.
"While I had hoped for something with a little more class... Who I am to deny my audience." Tibern said as he let out a chuckle and slowly began to think of what song to play. It took him a second but he then decided to mess with most of the party by singing a popular song in elvish, the loud song sounding a bit strange in the graceful language of the fairfolk.