HI ya keen to play, Dragonlance is a fantastic setting, and one of the first series to get me into more modern fantasy novels when I was a strip of a lad. I have PM'd you a character concept, a female Wizard in Red robes hailing from a rural village somewhere near Haven, by the name of Lorival Wheelwright :)
Thanks for proposing this adventure and thank you for you consideration of my character.
Ha, Nerd_Ferguson, you sound like me. My first thought was to just wait and see what the party might need. That lasted all of five minutes before I decided I'd just roll up a couple of characters "just in case."
It sounds like we have other people interested in playing muscle and healing, and since you said in PM that the rogue sounded most appealing, Widowleaf, I'll go ahead and post the concept here, just so everyone else can see it, too.
Breenie Wrynn: Chaotic Good Half-Elf Rogue (planning on Arcane Trickster). Farm girl turned spy. Can’t lie with a straight face to save her life, so she has to resort to creative problem-solving.
What rules are you following regarding magic and armor? I remember in the old AD&D, spells were not possible with armor, thus making things like fighter/mages redundant as you lost the appeal of the fighter side except for the weapon access and health boost.
I ask because I have wanted to try my hand at a dwarf or half-elf College of Valor Bard (i.e. skald), but what good is a battle-bard if they wind up being a suicidal-squishy?
I am keeping the rules for casting based on 5E. The other types of Magic are a bit more strict.
That works just fine. I have never been a great lyricist, so I have always looked at Bards as more showmen, orators, and storytellers. The skald concepts reflects more of a character's tendency toward rallying a crowd, inspiring deeds of valor in battle, or acting as a pillar of morale when spirits begin to slip.
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
So far I approved the following they have the have invite 1. Ranger 2. Rogue 3. Wizard 4. Monk I will allow a Bard and a Druid and we still need a Fighter so I have 3 slots open. Dm me for concepts.
Your character is returning to the town of Solace to reunite with some friends after a 3 year gap. What where you doing? What are relationships to the other characters?
My Monk is named Teric Brewerson.
He left Solace to receive training as a healer. For the past two years he has been essentially a medic in various military ventures in far away lands. Now he finds himself in need of getting away from said lands and, broke, and in need of a livelihood he has made his way back to Solace.
Overly dramatic intro for those interested :) (and No. Not all my posts will be that long, I promise)
The boy was dead.
The slight rise and fall of his chest showed that his body was still engaged in the futile exercise of moving air in and out of his tiny body, but his skin had gone a sickening gray, and if those vacant, lifeless eyes were seeing anything at the moment, it was nothing meant for the world of the living. A pile of a cloth was wrapped around his head. A shirt maybe? Now it was just a sticky wet mass of blackish red. Saturated with what seemed like more blood than such a little body should hold.
He didn't want to see what was underneath. His stomach turned at the very thought...and he was so achingly tired...
But the desperate eyes of the woman clutching the still breathing corpse lovingly to her chest meant he had to go through the motions. None of his training. None of his salves or herbs. No amount of stitches, or bandages, were going to be able to put right whatever horrible wound lie beneath the dripping red mass of fabric. But that didn't matter.
Teric looked briefly across the hastily improvised shelter the villagers had errected. At least a dozen bodies lay on the ground beneath it. Most of them still moving, but too many not. The sound of the wounded and dying once again registered in his ears and he hadn't realized he had filtered it out so effectively. He was aware that many of them owed their lives to him, but it wasn't enough.
The fight could have taken place elsewhere. The village was deemed a Strategic Advantage. At least that was what Teric had heard. When weighing the casualties, the commanders only counted the soldiers; and when the numbers were tallied, this battle would be considered a success. But none of these people had to die.
As his eyes swung far enough to be looking west he was forced to squint. The sun had just started to drop below the horizon. Teric had been away from his unit for a full day. It he left right now, it would stretch well into two before he could catch back up to them.
They didn't take well to deserters.
Just as well. He couldn't go back. Even if he wasn't worried he'd be greeted with a noose around his neck. He was done with the military life. It would mean travelling far from here, but it was worth his sanity.
Slowly he turned back. Dipped his hands in the basin of pink water a diligent woman, whose name he couldn't remember, had been refilling with clean water for him all day, and scrubbed the worst of the blood from his hands. Gently he took the boy from his mother, noting he had already stopped breathing, and laid him down across the red stained table. With the bile building in the back of his throat, he started to peel the bloody fabric away, and went about the business of pretending to save a life that was already gone.
I am very much open to anyone wanting to establish some sort of previous or current relationship.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth." - Tim
Given the drop off in replies to my original request and subsequent follow up I will take it that my barbarian idea is not applicable to the game. Happy gaming all! :)
Darkness has fallen over poor suffering Krynn. It has been this way for the last 300 years ever since the Cataclysm and the abandoment of the old gods. Cleric of true faith that would heal and help have long been absent. The curse of the King-Priest Istar still plagues the land of Kyrnn. It was his pride that made old gods leave. Lost where great cities, the accumlation of wisedom, and the knowledge of many generations. The knowleged of the True Gods and their ways was also lost. Priests and Clerics lost power and began to make their own rules. The Cataclsym also changed the very the shape of contiented of Ansalon seas rose and land masses changed.
Our story begins on the eve when young heroes return after a three break. Each of them returning to Solace a place of learning for them. These adventurers have taugt one another and learned to be great friends. Yet after three years a great many things can change….
The town of Solace blows with warm autumn winds through the great vallenwood trees. The road that wanders draw each of you home. The trees show the bright colors of autumn as the sunsets. The great trees also house the great buildings of Solace. The most famous of these is the Inn the of the Last Home. The Inn rest high in vallenwoods, the sounds of laughter tumbles from the Inn. Smell of Otik’s famous potatos can be smelled from distance if the winds stir just right. Each of you pause just a little outstide of the stair case just a each you run into each other.
(ooc go ahead and introduce yourselves and how you releate to each other)
Lorival's eyes light up as she sees the faces of her dear yet long parted friends.
"Breenie, Maisor how are you both, my goodness you've not aged a bit, bless your fey blood. Breenie my dear have you been home? How are your folks?"
"Demek how nice to see you again, won't it be great, all of us knocking around Solace again!"
"Teric, a great pleasure to see you again, I see trouble in your eyes, has the world been unkind to you?"
"Killian, Teclis, are you ready for Otik's potatoes and some strong ale? Al this walking is thirsty work!"
Lorival is filled with a buoyant warm sensation, seeing her old companions at the threshold of a place where they had spent many happy evenings, how she has looked forward to this day, now finally come.
It was odd, Breenie thought, being back in Solace. Like she’d been gone for an eternity and yet only here yesterday, all at the same time. She felt… lost, a little. Out of place.
Then Breenie spotted Lorival waiting and a split second later recognized other familiar forms approaching. A smile curled the corner of Breenie’s mouth, camouflaged by the splash of freckles across her sun-weathered face. The young half-elven woman picked up her pace, and a well-worn blue-gray traveling cloak trailed behind her.
“Ma and Da are well,” Breenie answered, stepping up alongside Lorival.“And so are my multitude of siblings. Plenty of hands for the farm. You spent your time well, I hope?”
Then, being the practical and polite girl that she was, she let Lorival’s questions stand and waited eagerly to reacquaint herself with old friends.
(OOC: If that font color I used for her dialogue is too light, holler and I'll pick something different.)
OOC: I'm going to go out on a limb and say I think not being concerned with true continuity (who arrived when) is probably a good idea right now. Let's just have fun introducing our characters. Once we really get into the story, we can pay more attention to sequence of events. By the way, Widowleaf, if I ever overstep my bounds, feel free to put me in my place. Maybe I'm channeling my inner Maisor. :)
As Maisor approaches the Inn of the Last Home, his pan flute bounces a steady rhythm against his chest by its string looped around his neck. His eyes are lowered to the street and one hand proceeds him, its fingers independently curling and straightening in patterns as if he is playing an invisible lute. He is dressed in a performance costume: light blue shirt, tan pants, and a beautiful dark blue and gold coat that is currently open. The hilt of a dagger on his belt can just be seen through the coat's open front. Only a few feet away from the Inn's entrance and the prodigal friends gathering there, Maisor finally looks up and halts abruptly as he first makes eye contact with Breenie. His lips part slightly, "Wha —?" And then he looks around to see the others smiling at him. His eyes growing large, his mouth spreads into a wide grin. "I can't believe it!" He runs up as if to clasp both of Breenie's shoulders in his hands, but then seems to think better of it, his smile faltering, and drops his hands down against his thighs with an audible slap. "Breenie! You're back!" He looks around at the others gathered there, his fingers buttoning the front of his coat. "You're ... you're all here!" He reaches out and clasps Teric's arm in the traditional greeting a bit awkwardly, almost as if he felt compelled to do something physical. He looks around at his friends' faces again and in a moment seems to visibly relax. A genuine smile warms his face. "Wow. It's really good to see all of you."
His legs were tired but he found them setting a hurried pace toward the Inn. He chastised himself for being foolish and slowed slightly. It was silly to think any of them would be there. The promises of naive youth. Teric rounded the corner and was socked to see the cluster of familiar faces. Changed, but familiar.
Lorival was as bright as ever. Firing off questions relentlessly. When she mentions trouble in his eyes he looks down to hide them before he even realizes it, but responds with a awkward chuckle as he runs a hand through his close cropped black hair. "Isn't life always unkind?"
He is thankful when Maisor grasps his arm and enthusiastically returns the gesture, eager to avoid the subject. He looked his friend up and down. The bard's colorful garb was a sharp contrast to Teric's plain garb. Sturdy boots, heavy leather pants and thick woolen shirt. All made to be durable and functional, with no thought to style. "Maisor! You overdressed son of a *****! How are you?"
Teric gives everyone else a nod and a smile, still not believing everyone was here and happy to simply enjoy the general energy of the group as old friends are reunited.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth." - Tim
Lorival rolls here eyes at Breenie's words, "Ha, the life of a village healer, never any time to yourself and never anyone to do anything with when you do," she stuck out her tongue. " I just hope no one dies while I'm visiting with you all here. Will be my fault for sure."
Her face loses some of it's humour at Teric's words, "My dear Teric, yes it is, but the Sun does come out once in a while to show you what's important. Seems like I am on a swing most of the time, always ups and downs."
"Maisor I see you've not lost any of your shine. I hope you have a song or two for us tonight, and have a dance saved for me." She smiled at her colourful friend, her hands unconsciously smoothing down her worn red robes.
Maisor always did make her feel plain, and rough around the edges.
Killian saw the others gathered and chatting. Happiness swelled in his heart and chased away the colder feelings he had since meeting his father. He wasn't over with his son leaving so long and yet Killian knew he had to live his own life.
"Even Master Fireforge was nicer." he grumbles to himself.
A big smile plastered on his face he hurried to the others and checked himself before hugging them all of a bear's embrace. Instead, he gave each a warn handshake and a toothy grin. He lets his eyes wander on his friends and sees how much they have changed and grown and realizes what his father might have seen in him. Shaking his head he let that thought slide and promised to go talk to him in the morning.
"First round is on me." he growled in mock anger ", serves me right for being late. That and I m famished. And I want to know all about your adventures."
Killian starts to move up the stairs but he doesn't fool anyone and his smiling companions know that he desperately wants to go see how Tika is doing.
While the company of the Leaves reunites and speaks to one another there is a loud noise from a distance. As each you look in that direction, you can tell the noise comes from the road leading in. It is now getting darker as each of you notice this there is flash of blue light. You all also hear from a distance goblin voices. The sounds and sight come from about down road you traveled on. The voices of Goblins is something new for those you have that have been away.
[description]
You guys are at the base of the stairs. The road leading in where you hear the noise is about 500 or less feet from you. The darkness is dim at this point. The road leads into curve that is why you cannot get direct line of sight.
Also let me know if you want me link roll20 for a map stuff.
"My dear Teric, yes it is, but the Sun does come out once in a while to show you what's important. Seems like I am on a swing most of the time, always ups and downs."
"I know, I know", he says with a small grin, "But you know what I always say, the pessimist is never disappointed."
The grin is immediately wiped from his face however at the sound of the explosion. His first instinct is to move toward it, to offer aid, but the strange, almost animal voices give him pause. Instead he sprints up the stairs, his eyes locked toward the commotion, hoping for a better view. What the hell is going on out there.
Teric will move no more than 15 feet up the stairs. Less if the curve takes him too far to see in the correct direction.
Looking to see if his higher vantage point gives him any better view of what's going on.
Perception: 12
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth." - Tim
Maisor hesitates, looking in the direction of the flash. "What was that?" he almost whispers. As Killian starts running, Maisor places a hand to his forehead. "Kill —! Ugh, where is he going?!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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HI ya keen to play, Dragonlance is a fantastic setting, and one of the first series to get me into more modern fantasy novels when I was a strip of a lad. I have PM'd you a character concept, a female Wizard in Red robes hailing from a rural village somewhere near Haven, by the name of Lorival Wheelwright :)
Thanks for proposing this adventure and thank you for you consideration of my character.
Ha, Nerd_Ferguson, you sound like me. My first thought was to just wait and see what the party might need. That lasted all of five minutes before I decided I'd just roll up a couple of characters "just in case."
It sounds like we have other people interested in playing muscle and healing, and since you said in PM that the rogue sounded most appealing, Widowleaf, I'll go ahead and post the concept here, just so everyone else can see it, too.
Breenie Wrynn (Half-Elf Rogue/Arcane Trickster), Dragons of Despair
Runa Barnatsdottir (Human Fighter/Eldritch Knight), A Journey Across the Planes
Tia Cabrera (Human Sorcerer/Wild Magic), Kingdoms of Magic: Tinseltown
Lenore (Dwarf Cleric/Forge Domain), Threnody of Neverwinter
I've been itching to play a bard, so if it's OK, I'll throw in my hat.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
So far I approved the following they have the have invite
1. Ranger
2. Rogue
3. Wizard
4. Monk
I will allow a Bard and a Druid and we still need a Fighter so I have 3 slots open. Dm me for concepts.
Now he finds himself in need of getting away from said lands and, broke, and in need of a livelihood he has made his way back to Solace.
The boy was dead.
The slight rise and fall of his chest showed that his body was still engaged in the futile exercise of moving air in and out of his tiny body, but his skin had gone a sickening gray, and if those vacant, lifeless eyes were seeing anything at the moment, it was nothing meant for the world of the living. A pile of a cloth was wrapped around his head. A shirt maybe? Now it was just a sticky wet mass of blackish red. Saturated with what seemed like more blood than such a little body should hold.
He didn't want to see what was underneath. His stomach turned at the very thought...and he was so achingly tired...
But the desperate eyes of the woman clutching the still breathing corpse lovingly to her chest meant he had to go through the motions. None of his training. None of his salves or herbs. No amount of stitches, or bandages, were going to be able to put right whatever horrible wound lie beneath the dripping red mass of fabric. But that didn't matter.
Teric looked briefly across the hastily improvised shelter the villagers had errected. At least a dozen bodies lay on the ground beneath it. Most of them still moving, but too many not. The sound of the wounded and dying once again registered in his ears and he hadn't realized he had filtered it out so effectively. He was aware that many of them owed their lives to him, but it wasn't enough.
The fight could have taken place elsewhere. The village was deemed a Strategic Advantage. At least that was what Teric had heard. When weighing the casualties, the commanders only counted the soldiers; and when the numbers were tallied, this battle would be considered a success. But none of these people had to die.
As his eyes swung far enough to be looking west he was forced to squint. The sun had just started to drop below the horizon. Teric had been away from his unit for a full day. It he left right now, it would stretch well into two before he could catch back up to them.
They didn't take well to deserters.
Just as well. He couldn't go back. Even if he wasn't worried he'd be greeted with a noose around his neck. He was done with the military life. It would mean travelling far from here, but it was worth his sanity.
Slowly he turned back. Dipped his hands in the basin of pink water a diligent woman, whose name he couldn't remember, had been refilling with clean water for him all day, and scrubbed the worst of the blood from his hands. Gently he took the boy from his mother, noting he had already stopped breathing, and laid him down across the red stained table. With the bile building in the back of his throat, he started to peel the bloody fabric away, and went about the business of pretending to save a life that was already gone.
I am very much open to anyone wanting to establish some sort of previous or current relationship.
"So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth."
- Tim
Given the drop off in replies to my original request and subsequent follow up I will take it that my barbarian idea is not applicable to the game. Happy gaming all! :)
Thank you all for applying. I have the party I am looking for.
Darkness has fallen over poor suffering Krynn. It has been this way for the last 300 years ever since the Cataclysm and the abandoment of the old gods. Cleric of true faith that would heal and help have long been absent. The curse of the King-Priest Istar still plagues the land of Kyrnn. It was his pride that made old gods leave. Lost where great cities, the accumlation of wisedom, and the knowledge of many generations. The knowleged of the True Gods and their ways was also lost. Priests and Clerics lost power and began to make their own rules. The Cataclsym also changed the very the shape of contiented of Ansalon seas rose and land masses changed.
Our story begins on the eve when young heroes return after a three break. Each of them returning to Solace a place of learning for them. These adventurers have taugt one another and learned to be great friends. Yet after three years a great many things can change….
The town of Solace blows with warm autumn winds through the great vallenwood trees. The road that wanders draw each of you home. The trees show the bright colors of autumn as the sunsets. The great trees also house the great buildings of Solace. The most famous of these is the Inn the of the Last Home. The Inn rest high in vallenwoods, the sounds of laughter tumbles from the Inn. Smell of Otik’s famous potatos can be smelled from distance if the winds stir just right. Each of you pause just a little outstide of the stair case just a each you run into each other.
(ooc go ahead and introduce yourselves and how you releate to each other)
Lorival's eyes light up as she sees the faces of her dear yet long parted friends.
"Breenie, Maisor how are you both, my goodness you've not aged a bit, bless your fey blood. Breenie my dear have you been home? How are your folks?"
"Demek how nice to see you again, won't it be great, all of us knocking around Solace again!"
"Teric, a great pleasure to see you again, I see trouble in your eyes, has the world been unkind to you?"
"Killian, Teclis, are you ready for Otik's potatoes and some strong ale? Al this walking is thirsty work!"
Lorival is filled with a buoyant warm sensation, seeing her old companions at the threshold of a place where they had spent many happy evenings, how she has looked forward to this day, now finally come.
It was odd, Breenie thought, being back in Solace. Like she’d been gone for an eternity and yet only here yesterday, all at the same time. She felt… lost, a little. Out of place.
Then Breenie spotted Lorival waiting and a split second later recognized other familiar forms approaching. A smile curled the corner of Breenie’s mouth, camouflaged by the splash of freckles across her sun-weathered face. The young half-elven woman picked up her pace, and a well-worn blue-gray traveling cloak trailed behind her.
“Ma and Da are well,” Breenie answered, stepping up alongside Lorival. “And so are my multitude of siblings. Plenty of hands for the farm. You spent your time well, I hope?”
Then, being the practical and polite girl that she was, she let Lorival’s questions stand and waited eagerly to reacquaint herself with old friends.
(OOC: If that font color I used for her dialogue is too light, holler and I'll pick something different.)
Breenie Wrynn (Half-Elf Rogue/Arcane Trickster), Dragons of Despair
Runa Barnatsdottir (Human Fighter/Eldritch Knight), A Journey Across the Planes
Tia Cabrera (Human Sorcerer/Wild Magic), Kingdoms of Magic: Tinseltown
Lenore (Dwarf Cleric/Forge Domain), Threnody of Neverwinter
OOC: I'm going to go out on a limb and say I think not being concerned with true continuity (who arrived when) is probably a good idea right now. Let's just have fun introducing our characters. Once we really get into the story, we can pay more attention to sequence of events. By the way, Widowleaf, if I ever overstep my bounds, feel free to put me in my place. Maybe I'm channeling my inner Maisor. :)
As Maisor approaches the Inn of the Last Home, his pan flute bounces a steady rhythm against his chest by its string looped around his neck. His eyes are lowered to the street and one hand proceeds him, its fingers independently curling and straightening in patterns as if he is playing an invisible lute. He is dressed in a performance costume: light blue shirt, tan pants, and a beautiful dark blue and gold coat that is currently open. The hilt of a dagger on his belt can just be seen through the coat's open front. Only a few feet away from the Inn's entrance and the prodigal friends gathering there, Maisor finally looks up and halts abruptly as he first makes eye contact with Breenie. His lips part slightly, "Wha —?" And then he looks around to see the others smiling at him. His eyes growing large, his mouth spreads into a wide grin. "I can't believe it!" He runs up as if to clasp both of Breenie's shoulders in his hands, but then seems to think better of it, his smile faltering, and drops his hands down against his thighs with an audible slap. "Breenie! You're back!" He looks around at the others gathered there, his fingers buttoning the front of his coat. "You're ... you're all here!" He reaches out and clasps Teric's arm in the traditional greeting a bit awkwardly, almost as if he felt compelled to do something physical. He looks around at his friends' faces again and in a moment seems to visibly relax. A genuine smile warms his face. "Wow. It's really good to see all of you."
His legs were tired but he found them setting a hurried pace toward the Inn. He chastised himself for being foolish and slowed slightly. It was silly to think any of them would be there. The promises of naive youth. Teric rounded the corner and was socked to see the cluster of familiar faces. Changed, but familiar.
Lorival was as bright as ever. Firing off questions relentlessly. When she mentions trouble in his eyes he looks down to hide them before he even realizes it, but responds with a awkward chuckle as he runs a hand through his close cropped black hair. "Isn't life always unkind?"
He is thankful when Maisor grasps his arm and enthusiastically returns the gesture, eager to avoid the subject. He looked his friend up and down. The bard's colorful garb was a sharp contrast to Teric's plain garb. Sturdy boots, heavy leather pants and thick woolen shirt. All made to be durable and functional, with no thought to style. "Maisor! You overdressed son of a *****! How are you?"
Teric gives everyone else a nod and a smile, still not believing everyone was here and happy to simply enjoy the general energy of the group as old friends are reunited.
"So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth."
- Tim
Lorival rolls here eyes at Breenie's words, "Ha, the life of a village healer, never any time to yourself and never anyone to do anything with when you do," she stuck out her tongue. " I just hope no one dies while I'm visiting with you all here. Will be my fault for sure."
Her face loses some of it's humour at Teric's words, "My dear Teric, yes it is, but the Sun does come out once in a while to show you what's important. Seems like I am on a swing most of the time, always ups and downs."
"Maisor I see you've not lost any of your shine. I hope you have a song or two for us tonight, and have a dance saved for me." She smiled at her colourful friend, her hands unconsciously smoothing down her worn red robes.
Maisor always did make her feel plain, and rough around the edges.
Killian saw the others gathered and chatting. Happiness swelled in his heart and chased away the colder feelings he had since meeting his father. He wasn't over with his son leaving so long and yet Killian knew he had to live his own life.
"Even Master Fireforge was nicer." he grumbles to himself.
A big smile plastered on his face he hurried to the others and checked himself before hugging them all of a bear's embrace. Instead, he gave each a warn handshake and a toothy grin. He lets his eyes wander on his friends and sees how much they have changed and grown and realizes what his father might have seen in him. Shaking his head he let that thought slide and promised to go talk to him in the morning.
"First round is on me." he growled in mock anger ", serves me right for being late. That and I m famished. And I want to know all about your adventures."
Killian starts to move up the stairs but he doesn't fool anyone and his smiling companions know that he desperately wants to go see how Tika is doing.
Writing a Story
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/d-d-beyond-general/story-lore/27837-magister-reborn-story-thread
While the company of the Leaves reunites and speaks to one another there is a loud noise from a distance. As each you look in that direction, you can tell the noise comes from the road leading in. It is now getting darker as each of you notice this there is flash of blue light. You all also hear from a distance goblin voices. The sounds and sight come from about down road you traveled on. The voices of Goblins is something new for those you have that have been away.
[description]
You guys are at the base of the stairs. The road leading in where you hear the noise is about 500 or less feet from you. The darkness is dim at this point. The road leads into curve that is why you cannot get direct line of sight.
Also let me know if you want me link roll20 for a map stuff.
Killian starts running.
He will try not to stay to far in front of the others. He unslings his bow and moves into the night.
Keeping the others in sight he will try to be stealthy.
OOC: I speak Goblin
Writing a Story
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/d-d-beyond-general/story-lore/27837-magister-reborn-story-thread
As Killian gets with in sound of voices. He hears the goblins ahead yelling about a blue staff and two others.
What the hell is going on out there.
"So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth."
- Tim
Maisor hesitates, looking in the direction of the flash. "What was that?" he almost whispers. As Killian starts running, Maisor places a hand to his forehead. "Kill —! Ugh, where is he going?!"