"A priest's duty is to their god first. You shouldn't interrupt a priest in their prayers. After all, if the gods did not watch over us, where would we be?"
Hiligrim sighs. "Another argument about religion," he says quietly to Carrow. "As if any of it can truly be proven. Give me logic. THAT is where the truth lies."
Barrel lets out a sigh and gives Bran a look of annoyance.
"As far as I know Sir Barclay, Shades don't have them dingly parts that most things need to reproduce. Instead of boarding up the door, mayhap you go downstairs and dispatch the last one. We will help you of course but we have far more pressing matters to attend to." Barrel says as he walks over towards the stage where Jerub is getting ready to pray. "By Moradins beard Jerub, We do not have time for this. " Barrel ruffles through his pack and hands Jerub the letter that Jerub wrote. "You wrote this to us. I think I know what's happened and we can sit here and dilly dally all day but times a wasting."
Barrel looks around the room at everyone and shakes his head.
"Either you know where this desecrated Tomb is or you do not. We are on a deadline and don't have the time to sit here. I think that's what happened to you."
Barrel turns towards Barclay. "Oh noble knight Barclay, Where was Jerub one week ago today? I assume he was not around here that day correct?"
Barclay replies, "Well you must not be Shadowborn like me!" Barclay's tone quickly rises to one of anger as he points accusingly at Barrel. Carrick puts his hand on Barclay's chestpiece as if to hold him back, though he doesn't seem to actually be putting any resistance. Barclay continues, "Any ten year old shadowborn knows that all a Shadow needs to multiple is darkness and sorrow, and the black bastion provides PLENTY O' THAT!"
Jerub turns to Flow with friendly small and says, "No it's quite alright. Really it's okay. I'll have a look at the letter." Barclay reaches out and takes the letter from Barrel and then beings reading it, still sitting on the edge of the stage.
Barclay leans back against the wall once more then scratches his chin, as if trying to recall where Jerub was last week. Finally he says somewhat quizzically, "I don't think I've ever seen Jerub leave here.... ever?"
Jerub folds up the letter and begins to laugh softly. "My dearest dwarf. I did not write this letter. The handwriting isn't even close!" Jerub motions to a small book shelf above a desk, filled with large, leatherbound tomes. "Compare for yourself." Jerub holds the letter back out to Barrel.
Carrow closes his eyes, considering this new information."Perhaps we were lured here under false pretenses. Tell me, how did all of you come to this place?"
Carrow closes his eyes, considering this new information."Perhaps we were lured here under false pretenses. Tell me, how did all of you come to this place?"
Jerub looks at Carrow and says' "I've been in the Shadowfell for over a decade. I haven't left this building in six years." Jerub glances around at the rafters of the building. "She's served Kelemvor's purposes well enough". Jerub says slyly, "The creature you met, the one that wrote that letter, is a doppelgänger named Kiëu. The same slippery man who tricked me into coming here eleven years ago... Only my shadowcrossing let out in Evernight."
Jerub rises from the stage and begins to walk to his desk. "I wonder how long he's been being me?", the priest muses.
Barrel takes the letter and goes to the bookshelf to compare the writings of "Jerub the Gray" 21 Investigation.
As he is comparing the writings he says over his shoulder. "I'm sorry friend Barclay. I mean no disrespect. You're right, I am not Shadowborn. We came here from your well in the basement." Barrel walks over to Barclay and hands him the letter. "See for yourself. We mean no harm or disrespect to you and your people. We are not familiar with this place or your customs. We are just trying to find this Tomb and destroy this evil artifact that is plaguing the land."
Barrel turns towards Flow, "I meant no disrespect to Jerub. I also worship the great god Moradin and would be upset if someone interrupted me during my prayers but time is of the essence for us. Unless you want to get stuck here for all eternity? I for one will flourish and I am not worried if that will be the case but for the rest of you..."
Hildigrim is almost vibrating with anxiety. His eyes watch as the doorway to the cellar stairs are being boarded up. "Um ..." he says to no one in particular. "Um ..." His eyes dart around the room, out the hole in the wall, at the broken ceiling, at the Tiefling, and the people ... the gloomy and "rotting" people. "Um ..." he begins to speak rapidly in an undertone, whether to soothe himself or to make sense of his surroundings. "Jerub isn't Jerub. A doppelganger. Is the orb even real? Why did he send us? Who's pulling the strings? Are we trapped? What's happening? Why are we here? Can we get home? Am I going to die? Can I get out? Should I go? Should we go? Can we go? Will it work? Is the well a trap? This is wrong. It made sense. I only wanted to be an adventurer. I studied so hard. Why isn't it working? Where did I fail? My books. Why didn't I bring my books? Go. Go? Go. Go?"
Barrel takes the letter and goes to the bookshelf to compare the writings of "Jerub the Gray" 22 Investigation.
Barrel can tell that the handwriting is nothing alike. The handwriting in Jerub's tomes looks almost as if he learned to write in elvish first. The letters are fluid and swooping. The characters and numerals printed inside the letter are blocky and written in all capitols.
Hildigrim is almost vibrating with anxiety. His eyes watch as the doorway to the cellar stairs are being boarded up. "Um ..." he says to no one in particular. "Um ..." His eyes dart around the room, out the hole in the wall, at the broken ceiling, at the Tiefling, and the people ... the gloomy and "rotting" people. "Um ..." he begins to speak rapidly in an undertone, whether to soothe himself or to make sense of his surroundings. "Jerub isn't Jerub. A doppelganger. Is the orb even real? Why did he send us? Who's pulling the strings? Are we trapped? What's happening? Why are we here? Can we get home? Am I going to die? Can I get out? Should I go? Should we go? Can we go? Will it work? Is the well a trap? This is wrong. It made sense. I only wanted to be an adventurer. I studied so hard. Why isn't it working? Where did I fail? My books. Why didn't I bring my books? Go. Go? Go. Go?"
Jerub turns to Hildigram and says, "Calm now my child. You are okay and you can make it home in one piece! I myself have turned down two opportunities to leave the Shadowfell. My ministry is more important than any work I could do on the Prime" Jerub pauses for a moment... "Bad luck for Kiëu that you fell into my lap! Ahhh but it is Kelemvor's way, to balance the scales when you least expect him to! Praise be." Jerub laughs to himself about Kelemvor's delayed sense of humor.
"As far as this artifact... I've never heard of it. It is hard to find good information here in Gloomwrought. This Putris... What did you call it? This could explain the recent surge in zombies and ghouls wandering the streets... Turning this artifact over to Kiëu would not end well I promise you", Jerub says with a serious look on his face. Jerub scratches his chin for a moment then turns to Barclay, "Have you seen the graveyard today?"
Barclay replies, "No sir. Ain't seen the cemetery since it was just south of the Black Eyrie a few months back".
Jerub thinks for a minute, then has a realization. He turns back to the party and says, "Ah ha! I know... You should talk to Sven! He is probably heading there later this day!"
Jerub looks around to make sure he is out of earshot then whispers, "That's the sad young man at the bar with noose round his neck, Sven.... Seems he always know how to get to that old boneyard. Part of his reanimation no doubt. Rolan is a tricky one!"
Barclay motions to the two people sitting on the cots, now eating hunks of bread and chatting quietly over coffee. "You should be asking them Harpers for help! They'll probably give ye the clothes of their back iffin' you help them get back to the Prime! They been here a long time".
Carrow does his best to absorb all of this new information, "It sounds as if you're implying that the location of the graveyard is not... a constant? How could a location change its position?"
Carrow does his best to absorb all of this new information, "It sounds as if you're implying that the location of the graveyard is not... a constant? How could a location change its position?"
Barclay looks up at you with a dead-serious glare and he speaks softly with his gravel-choked voice. "It's the will of the Raven Queen. That or the hammerin' of the Keepers, but those black beasts just work for her anyway."
Barclay takes a long pause from his perch against the stone wall. He looks longingly at the black sky through the patchy ceiling and says, "Just step outside and watch the skyline for a few minutes. You'll no doubt see spires fall and rise before your very eyes."
Jerub chimes in, "That's why we picked this old building here, right outside of Northgate. The gate districts are the only thing that stays stationary." Jerub pauses thoughtfully then says, "That and the Raven's Eyrie"
Barclay takes a long pause from his perch against the stone wall. He looks longingly at the black sky through the patchy ceiling and says, "Just step outside and watch the skyline for a few minutes. You'll no doubt see spires fall and rise before your very eyes."
"I'm going to go take a look for myself". Bran walks towards the closest door so he can get a look at what Barclay is talking about.
Meanwhile, Flow has walked over to where Sven sits.
"Hello, good sir!" he says with a smile, "Would you be so kind as to tell me where the 'boneyard' is?"
Sven looks up slowly from his drink at Flow, as if he barely notice Flow speaking to him. "Huh? .... Oh hey", Sven says with a slow, forlorn tone. Flow notices a twinge of deep sadness in the man's mangled face.
Flow now realizes that this scar-faced man is dead... Or undead rather. Part of Sven's decadent shirt is torn away, revealing pale ribcage beneath his dress coat, and Flow can now smell the strong stench of formaldehyde, wafting from the man.
Sven says, "The cemetery is...." He trails off and pauses for a moment, as if racking his brain for the words. He starts to speak again, then stops again, pondering the location some more. "I don't really know how to explain it", Sven says in his defeated tone of voice. His head sags like a man in a deep depression. He says, "I guess I just FEEL how to get there, you know what I mean?". Sven looks up at Flow, eyes full of hope, to see if he understands.
Sven shakes his head at his own words and returns to staring into the bottom of his cup with the all of the sorrow of a doomed man. He says, "Never mind. It's stupid anyway".
Barclay takes a long pause from his perch against the stone wall. He looks longingly at the black sky through the patchy ceiling and says, "Just step outside and watch the skyline for a few minutes. You'll no doubt see spires fall and rise before your very eyes."
"I'm going to go take a look for myself". Bran walks towards the closest door so he can get a look at what Barclay is talking about.
Bran opens the rickety front door near the bar and steps out onto the stoop, taking in the city of Gloomwrought sprawling out before him. The Northgate district sits higher than the other districts leading down to the dark bay, allowing Bran an unfettered view of the jagged sprawl. The city walls loom over the stoop, just down at the end of this small black street. Gloomwrought’s fortifications seem less like protective barriers and more like prison walls.
Narrow lanes wind unpredictably alongside the walls or through buildings. Structures seem to pile atop or lean against one another. A canal cuts erratically through the city further down the block, carrying black water out into the harbor. Wicked towers stab upward out of jumbled heaps of smaller edifices. All the buildings are twisted constructions of black stone that seem ready to tumble over at any moment. Jagged stone staircases and strange walkways and bridges jut out all over the citiy's face. On the horizon, new structures rise, and old buildings sink to the sounds of rumbling and unnatural wailing.
The city is stifling, as if the walls are actively oppressive. The only reliable space is found upward, atop the crooked buildings. Even on high, structures sag and lean, looming like hungry monsters. Bizarre and unnatural motifs—interwoven limbs, screaming faces, and headless bodies—appear on nearly every surface. Statues of twisted creatures, each one’s lifelike face contorted into a rigid sneer or a sinister grin, perch on eaves and along the walls. Every statue’s eyes seem to follow pedestrians as they pass below.
Bran can see in the gray darkness, shapes of winged creatures dotting skies. Crows, ravens, larger humanoid looking birds, black drakes, and massive vultures flock in a large spinning mass, circling around a towering black, palace-like structure to the Southwest, raised high above the rest of the buildings in the city.
"I don't think it is stupid," Flow says, doing his best not to reveal any surprise that Sven is undead.
"There are many forces at work in these realms. Likely some are guiding you."
"No. No, you're right", Sven says with a long sigh, "It's Prince Rolan, not me." He takes a swig of ale from his mug and Flow sees a little of the liquid roll out of the exposed holes in his ribcage. "Thanks for saying you don't think I'm stupid."
Sven resigns to looking at the bottom of his flagon for a moment longer. Then he says, "I don't think it's a good idea to bring you to work with me." Sven looks toward the front door and says, "Rolan might not like that... He will probably want me to work in a few hours. Most days it comes to me around twelve bells... That means I have some more time to drink."
Barrel looks over at Flow talking to Sven for a bit. I hope he has some luck in getting Sven to guide us. Barrel thinks.
"Hey Hildi," Barrel says as he walks over to the little halfling and Carrow. "I have a bad feeling about this since we found out about this Doppelganger. I think one of us should try and go back through the well to make sure the portal is still open. They could just jump right back in when they get to the other side. It should only take a few minutes and won't waste much time from our mission"
"If we even bother to do the mission" Barrel mumbles to himself.
"I'd be willing to do it if no one wants to. We are wasting precious time here. If Flow can't get Sven to show us the way to the graveyard than we need to head out soon. But under the circumstances, I don't think we should even waste our time doing the mission. I say we all head back through the well and to the hell with it. Find the Jerub imposter and kick his ass. What say you?"Barrel looks at Hildi and Carrow hoping they agree with him.
"Barrel!" Flow says reproachingly,
"A priest's duty is to their god first. You shouldn't interrupt a priest in their prayers. After all, if the gods did not watch over us, where would we be?"
And that's all I have to say about that.
Hiligrim sighs. "Another argument about religion," he says quietly to Carrow. "As if any of it can truly be proven. Give me logic. THAT is where the truth lies."
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Barclay leans back against the wall once more then scratches his chin, as if trying to recall where Jerub was last week. Finally he says somewhat quizzically, "I don't think I've ever seen Jerub leave here.... ever?"
Jerub folds up the letter and begins to laugh softly. "My dearest dwarf. I did not write this letter. The handwriting isn't even close!" Jerub motions to a small book shelf above a desk, filled with large, leatherbound tomes. "Compare for yourself." Jerub holds the letter back out to Barrel.
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Hildigrim would like to compare his memory of his first meeting with Jerub with this Jerub, specifically personality and mannerisms.
Intelligence/Investigation check: 5
Guess he doesn't remember squat! I specifically picked Halfling for its ability to re-roll 1's. I have never rolled so many 2's in my life.
Carrow closes his eyes, considering this new information."Perhaps we were lured here under false pretenses. Tell me, how did all of you come to this place?"
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Barrel takes the letter and goes to the bookshelf to compare the writings of "Jerub the Gray" 21 Investigation.
As he is comparing the writings he says over his shoulder. "I'm sorry friend Barclay. I mean no disrespect. You're right, I am not Shadowborn. We came here from your well in the basement." Barrel walks over to Barclay and hands him the letter. "See for yourself. We mean no harm or disrespect to you and your people. We are not familiar with this place or your customs. We are just trying to find this Tomb and destroy this evil artifact that is plaguing the land."
Barrel turns towards Flow, "I meant no disrespect to Jerub. I also worship the great god Moradin and would be upset if someone interrupted me during my prayers but time is of the essence for us. Unless you want to get stuck here for all eternity? I for one will flourish and I am not worried if that will be the case but for the rest of you..."
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DM Curse of Strahd
Redleaf Moutain Dwarf Circle of land(Moutain) Druid
Flow sighs.
"You have a point," he concedes.
"But this doppelganger business worries me. It seems we've been tricked into coming here to get that orb for the doppelganger."
And that's all I have to say about that.
Hildigrim is almost vibrating with anxiety. His eyes watch as the doorway to the cellar stairs are being boarded up. "Um ..." he says to no one in particular. "Um ..." His eyes dart around the room, out the hole in the wall, at the broken ceiling, at the Tiefling, and the people ... the gloomy and "rotting" people. "Um ..." he begins to speak rapidly in an undertone, whether to soothe himself or to make sense of his surroundings. "Jerub isn't Jerub. A doppelganger. Is the orb even real? Why did he send us? Who's pulling the strings? Are we trapped? What's happening? Why are we here? Can we get home? Am I going to die? Can I get out? Should I go? Should we go? Can we go? Will it work? Is the well a trap? This is wrong. It made sense. I only wanted to be an adventurer. I studied so hard. Why isn't it working? Where did I fail? My books. Why didn't I bring my books? Go. Go? Go. Go?"
Barrel can tell that the handwriting is nothing alike. The handwriting in Jerub's tomes looks almost as if he learned to write in elvish first. The letters are fluid and swooping. The characters and numerals printed inside the letter are blocky and written in all capitols.
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Carrow does his best to absorb all of this new information, "It sounds as if you're implying that the location of the graveyard is not... a constant? How could a location change its position?"
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Barclay looks up at you with a dead-serious glare and he speaks softly with his gravel-choked voice. "It's the will of the Raven Queen. That or the hammerin' of the Keepers, but those black beasts just work for her anyway."
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Meanwhile, Flow has walked over to where Sven sits.
"Hello, good sir!" he says with a smile, "Would you be so kind as to tell me where the 'boneyard' is?"
And that's all I have to say about that.
Sven looks up slowly from his drink at Flow, as if he barely notice Flow speaking to him. "Huh? .... Oh hey", Sven says with a slow, forlorn tone. Flow notices a twinge of deep sadness in the man's mangled face.
Bran opens the rickety front door near the bar and steps out onto the stoop, taking in the city of Gloomwrought sprawling out before him. The Northgate district sits higher than the other districts leading down to the dark bay, allowing Bran an unfettered view of the jagged sprawl. The city walls loom over the stoop, just down at the end of this small black street. Gloomwrought’s fortifications seem less like protective barriers and more like prison walls.
Narrow lanes wind unpredictably alongside the walls or through buildings. Structures seem to pile atop or lean against one another. A canal cuts erratically through the city further down the block, carrying black water out into the harbor. Wicked towers stab upward out of jumbled heaps of smaller edifices. All the buildings are twisted constructions of black stone that seem ready to tumble over at any moment. Jagged stone staircases and strange walkways and bridges jut out all over the citiy's face. On the horizon, new structures rise, and old buildings sink to the sounds of rumbling and unnatural wailing.
The city is stifling, as if the walls are actively oppressive. The only reliable space is found upward, atop the crooked buildings. Even on high, structures sag and lean, looming like hungry monsters. Bizarre and unnatural motifs—interwoven limbs, screaming faces, and headless bodies—appear on nearly every surface. Statues of twisted creatures, each one’s lifelike face contorted into a rigid sneer or a sinister grin, perch on eaves and along the walls. Every statue’s eyes seem to follow pedestrians as they pass below.
Bran can see in the gray darkness, shapes of winged creatures dotting skies. Crows, ravens, larger humanoid looking birds, black drakes, and massive vultures flock in a large spinning mass, circling around a towering black, palace-like structure to the Southwest, raised high above the rest of the buildings in the city.
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"I don't think it is stupid," Flow says, doing his best not to reveal any surprise that Sven is undead.
"There are many forces at work in these realms. Likely some are guiding you."
And that's all I have to say about that.
"No. No, you're right", Sven says with a long sigh, "It's Prince Rolan, not me." He takes a swig of ale from his mug and Flow sees a little of the liquid roll out of the exposed holes in his ribcage. "Thanks for saying you don't think I'm stupid."
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Barrel looks over at Flow talking to Sven for a bit. I hope he has some luck in getting Sven to guide us. Barrel thinks.
"Hey Hildi," Barrel says as he walks over to the little halfling and Carrow. "I have a bad feeling about this since we found out about this Doppelganger. I think one of us should try and go back through the well to make sure the portal is still open. They could just jump right back in when they get to the other side. It should only take a few minutes and won't waste much time from our mission"
"If we even bother to do the mission" Barrel mumbles to himself.
"I'd be willing to do it if no one wants to. We are wasting precious time here. If Flow can't get Sven to show us the way to the graveyard than we need to head out soon. But under the circumstances, I don't think we should even waste our time doing the mission. I say we all head back through the well and to the hell with it. Find the Jerub imposter and kick his ass. What say you?" Barrel looks at Hildi and Carrow hoping they agree with him.
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Redleaf Moutain Dwarf Circle of land(Moutain) Druid