The dreams that haunted Sigmund began to take a toll on his day to day living. After a while he spent every waking moment reliving those dreams, trying to figure out what they meant. He sought guidance from the temple he studied at, who told him that these visions were not to be taken lightly. They advised him to put aside his current life and seek out the meaning of these visions, for they could be the signs of a great evil coming. They expressed confidence in his abilities. He was no longer a mere child and he had grown to become quite the capable warrior.
Sigmund was reluctant; however, the visions intensified shortly after his conversation with the temple authorities, and they began to drive him mad. He knew he had no choice at this point. He must leave behind his temple studies and pursue the meaning of the visions. He said his goodbyes to his family and friends and set out for Waterdeep. He figured such a large city couldn't be the worst place to start seeking answers.
Without much gold to his name finding passage to Waterdeep was a difficult task. He spent many a day simply walking by himself along the beaten path, occasionally being harassed by a bandit or a goblin or two. He had to seek out healing in Waterdeep before finally arriving at The Yawning Portal after a particularly nasty encounter with a band of goblins he had whilst hitching a ride with a trade caravan for the final leg of the journey.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
To confirm your interest in playing this campaign, once I have your information, I'll post a message with the gold you earned during the time that took you to meet the rest of the group, and here is a little line that might help you get a better idea of what's going on, just to make sure we all are on the same page:
While you were dreaming, something separated your mind from your body, your mind now free to wander through different planes met with a group of people that experienced the same. The person recently killed by the cultists showed clear evidence of being an older version of someone of the party... when you returned to your body, that last experience felt more as a premonition than a dream or a memory.
We will start adventuring as soon as everyone meet at the tavern.
Opium stepped through the doors of the tavern and pulled back his green hood. He despised these places, so sickeningly similar to each other that every time he woke up in one he had to put extra effort in remembering which one it was. This one was no different, but even standing at the door the Druid could see it as the one his dreams guided him to. Same fireplace, same stag horns above it - what a cruel fate for the noble beast, to be dispayed and mocked as such - and same tiefling warming his hands near it.
Hey, Sparlock149, sorry for using your character as a prop (basically), I hope you don't mind. It's somewhat story-driven, this druid can't tell humans apart very well. I promise I'll keep my writing to my own character once I realize who is actually playing and what the hell is going on ;)
Opium was not one to take his dreams at face value or disregard them entirely. The nightmares were nothing new, but that dream felt differently. It felt like a vision. But visions are not prophecies. It is but a glimpse of a possible future. So he spoke and he listened. He listened to the stars, to the wind, to the trees. There's a lot one can hear if one's willing to listen. He spoke to the spirits and beasts, to the telthors and fey. Many answered the call of the Druid, but few had anything to say. So he ventured even further, against the advice and warnings of his circle - to the land of men. He found his way through their villages and cities, seeking advice and guidance of those who knew the secrets of the Arcane. He ventured and found nothing.
He asked assistance of beast gods of Rashemen and made an inadvisable bargain. He went to the gods of his forest and made an even worse one. He was granted another vision, one that lead him here, to the City of Splendor. One that showed him where his fellow dreamers will gather. And now the favors from the otherworldly beings have ended and he has to do his part. He must see it through.
Some splendor, Opium thought, looking around the dirty tavern. He ordered a mug of wine and approached the tiefling.
"Greetings, traveller," Druid said, putting his best effort into producing the vague semblace of a smile. "I remember you from that dream. You no doubt know the one I'm speaking of. My druid name is hard to pronounce, but in common tongue ot means Opium. I suppose it will do. I've put a lot of effort into finding this place and people in it. Although I must admit, I'm not good at telling stranger humans apart, so you were the only one I recognozed from the start.Looking around, I think I recognize a few more. The lot of us are due a conversation and, hopefully, an explanation, wouldn't you agree?"
It had been quite a journey by the time Darvin reached Waterdeep. He'd managed to find passage on a coach, offering the protection of his magic in exchange for the ride. Coming into the city, he was amazed by its size. In Candlekeep, Darvin had mostly been restricted to libraries, classrooms, and his own quarters.
In his first day in Waterdeep, Darvin various shops, buying any bartering and buying supplies he was lacking following the journey, and asking after locations of any libraries or schools of magic in the city. After a long day, he decides to head over to the pub, hoping to quench his palate with a good ale.
Warming his hands at the fireplace, he was surprised when he was interrupted by a voice behind him. Turning around he recognized the druid speaking to him.
"How unexpected! Some God must be playing tricks on us for us to meet like this. I've been searching the city for some spell to find the people from that.... that dream. My name is Darvin Dundragon. You say the others from the vision are here as well?"
Looking around the room, Darvin searches for familiar faces from out of the visions. Seeing one, he approaches, assuming his new companion would follow him. "Hello stranger. Have you also been troubled by visions as of late?"
(Just posting the below for your what I was doing)
Below is a little montage for him getting to Waterdeep:
After the strange myriad of dreams he has been having, Roland has found his way onto the trail leading from The Sea of Stars towards The Sword Coast. He has attempted to keep a low profile; his gaunt looking features putting people off being sociable with him. He isn't completely sure what this drive is, but he knows that Waterdeep is his destination, and that is where he is headed. He may not have much money left, and may be wearing tatty leathers after this long journey, but he will get there.
Every night he was tormented by a dream. Most of them were the recurring memory of his family, showing him what he lost. Some of the dreams just recall a shadowy skull and the flow of red robes. Then there is the other dream; the dream calling him from across the planes to summon him. He would always awaken in cold sweats, no matter the rest he took. Some of the places he was hired to be a workman at during this time called him "the ghoul", as his pasty features and cold sweats reminded them of the dead returned with dark energies.
During his travel he was accompanied by a spiritedly halfling by the name of Winterberry Thrip, who he had the closest thing to a travelling friend for the first time in a while. It helped him slightly come out of his shell after his years of reclusion. He told her about how he used to be a farmer on the Aglarond border. He did quite well for himself there, but has since become more of a nomad, traversing across Faerûn without a goal. Winterberry rekindled a kindness in his heart, reminding him that others can care for one another, even though they do not know everything about each other.
Their paths went separate ways in Cormyr, when Winterberry was requested to perform for some nobles northward of their current position. He left him with a token of friendship, a small knife that is used for peeling potatoes. It may not be an interesting or useful item, but something to remember him by nonetheless. From there he applied to be a caravan guard and followed along The Dragon Coast and the trade routes that led to The Sword Coast.
Waterdeep, the City of SplendoursRoland thinks to himself as he sees the huge gates of the walled port town ahead of him. Something here is calling me, reached through my dreams and nightmares to contact me. I must find it. He wanders slowly with the caravan he is travelling with and ensures it reaches its destination. After receiving his pay, he turns to look for a place to stay and perhaps get the information he requires.
Isabeau of House Estelmer, one of Waterdeep's many noble families, fretted as she searched the city for the others she had seen. Of particular worry was the woman who had been sacrificed. Who was she? Why were the cultists after her? Her fate tugged at the noblewoman's heartstrings. She had spent a generous amount of gold for information and that morning a street urchin had bumped into her, pressing a sealed parchment into her hand in the Market, Isabeau found a deserted alleyway and broke the seal to read the letter.
Lady Estelmer,
We have been watching for those souls you have been so publicly concerned about. Two of them have been spotted in, where else, the Yawning Portal. Perhaps there you will find the answers you seek.
Right in the moment where all of you sat on the same table, you felt an immense tingling on your head but it didn't hurt, it just numbed for a couple of seconds until you found again in that form that you remember far to well, floating now on an open meadow you all see a figure getting closer, it felt like that was the only living being as far as your eyes could see, when he spoke, his voice echoed and when it reached you it felt warm and reassuring:
I'm glad that all of you where able to come, I don't have much time, so you'll have to listen and save for questions for later when we meet again...What you saw, was indeed a premonition, nothing but a possible outcome of the years to come, as I'm talking to you opposing forces set into motion their plan to take to your realm something of unspeakable power, they seek nothing but destruction.
Unfortunately I don't know much of how it all started or who is working with them, you'll need to find that on your own. Look for the desperate, the destitute, those who lost it all, for those who lost everything often colude with evil hoping to get something back. Now look around you, find evil...
As soon as the entity said those words you were brought back to the yawning portal, no one even noticed that your minds were absent for a minute. Everyone was busy minding their own business, as it usually happens here. The pub was for from being empty and it was that time of the day in which workers look for refreshment after a long day, you looked around and noticed a couple of dwarfs having an energetic discussion (which was odd, considering their age) a table with a festive group of adventurers singing and drinking, a young man with tattered clothes who repeatedly tapped his foot against the wooden floor, only stoping to tap his fingers in a waving motion.
"Wait... Who are you?" Roland wearily calls out as the vision begins to fade. He then realises he is in The Yawning Portal again. Another vision he thinks to himself, then looks to the others gathered here. "You... you have all had these dreams too, correct? Please, does anyone know what is going on? It eats at me as I wake and as I rest." There is a hint of desperation in the tired face of the human, his pasty features looking more like a corpse than alive for a brief second.
"I swear to the Silver Aspens, if this is some gods intrigue, I'm going to be so royally pissed," Opium practically spat out. "What does it mean 'look for desperate and the destitute...'? I suggest we find ourseves a brothel, then. Even if we don't find whatever that spirit wants us too, at least we're guarateed a good time."
Druid took a large sip of a watered down wine and was glad he did not orer mead instead. No point in spoiling an impression of his favourite drink. Annoyed, he gave the room one attentive look. The man tapping his foot seems to fit the description, if one would assume that being wanted them to look right here.
"We should probably talk to him. Wait, let me rephrase that. We should probably corner him and then talk to him. He seems ready to flee at the first sign of trouble."
Isabeau sighed. "Unfortunately, friend, I know no more than you. We've obviously been targeted by that group in the first vision for some reason and it ends with one or more of us getting sacrificed. This cannot possibly be for any good reason. The voice suggested we should 'Look for the desperate, the destitute, those who lost it all' so maybe we should keep a weather eye out for such types, but for the moment perhaps a round of ales while we compare histories and find out who we all are as our fates seem to be tied together."
(Having trouble joining the campaign with the link in the latest post from the DM.)
"...for those who lost everything often collude with evil hoping to get something back."
How true that was. Crispy had, indeed, lost everything. Her mother, her dead father, her partner, her job. Even her best friend for a while. She did collude with evil, years ago, to try and stop the chronic nightmares, but that just led to anger and banishment. It was a while before she returned home. That was the last time she dealt with demons, but the nightmares never stopped. Now she was having new dreams, where cultists were sacrificing her, and now another vision of someone she didn't know, telling her of a great evil. All she wanted was a normal life, but she got everything in the world but that. Lately she was feeling older than she was, tired, and unfocused. The Academy taught her many things, but the weight of her life was getting heavier and heavier on her shoulders as the years went by, and she felt more angry and abusive as her willpower waned, especially from the lack of sleep.
Seated at the table, she said nothing, lost in her thoughts, lost with what to do. She ached for a drink, something she was doing more and more of, to dull the thoughts, to dull the pain, to dull the memories.
"Desperate, destitute, and lost it all?" Roland looks warily around the group. "That is too broad. I am desperate, left destitute..." He trails off in his conversation.
"So, we're expected to run around interrogating every beggar we see until we find this 'evil'? Seems like a bit of an unfortunate stereotype. I was taught to aid the poor and needy. Hmm...perhaps..."
Sigmund stands up and digs a few copper pieces out of his pocket. He walks over to the young man in tattered clothes and flips the coins onto the table in front of him.
"It's not much, but it's close to all I have at this point. Perhaps you could put it towards some new clothes. Tell me, friend, what brings you here?" he says to the man.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Darvin watches the man get up and approach the fellow in tattered clothes. "I think our fellow is on the the right idea. We must have been led here for a reason. Perhaps that man has answers. Meanwhile, I'm going to see if there's any magic here... I couldn't find any traces after the first vision, but perhaps I'll be more lucky with this one."
From his backpack, Darvin pulls out an arcane spellbook and seems to disappear within his own head, gesticulating and mumbling words of magic underneath his breath as he's reading from one of its pages.
Casting Detect Magic as a ritual while Sigmund talks to the man in the corner.
"Well, good luck with that," druid commented, producing a tiny pouch prom his pocket. "In the meantime, I have a better idea. I have a nice little poison I conconted, it's calledMalice (Inhaled). It is a volatile powder that I can snow him with. He's blinded, scared, I promise him an antidote if he talkes, he talks. Profit. Of course, I don't have an antidote, but the effect should pass within the hour. It's a win-win. Of course there's always a possibility that he will talk on his own, but when was the last time fate has been so kind?"
Opium is not generally an evil *******, he's just pissed and sober right now.
Without stopping his ritual, Darvin glances up at Opium, wondering what type of company he had fallen into, then turned immediately back to his trusted spellbook.
I have to figure out what magic has drawn us here, he thinks to himself.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Feeling a bit unnerved by the current talk and the wizard beginning to cast some spells, Roland mutters something under his breath as well. His visage subtly changes, looking eerily healthier.
False Life: gains 8 temporary hit points for 1 hour.
"M...my name is Roland." He says timidly, as if not used to trying to trust strangers. "Perhaps we should try t-talking to him first. I don't think p-poison is the best start to this."
As soon as Sigmund approached the man, he received a scornful look, as if the poor man forgot his current status. Sigmund (who could roll perception ir investigation if he wants to) was surprised by the man's scent, he was used todo beggars and they always reek, but not this one.
The man said "I don't want your dirty money, you peasent!" Sigmund noticed something that initialy escaped everyone else's scrutiny of the pub, the man was fixated with a couple located a couple of tables from him. He continued talking to Sigmund "look at her, so stupid! willing to throw everything away...selfish *****". She was the most beautiful girl in the place (which usually means nothing in a place like this, but today it really meant something) she had a nobleish demeanor, but she was wearing cheap clothes and the only piece of jewelry was just a gold ring. Nobles loved to be admired and they are a fairly common sight at the yawning portal.
I'll tell you what, said the man, I'm sure they're planning to spend the night together...said slowly and each word seemed to upset him more as he spoke it, if I'm right kill him right there un front of her...she needs to know that her actions bear consequences. If you do that I'll hice you a nice reward.
While this occurred Darvin was finishing the Magic ritual and sensed something troubling, the spell succesfully detected magic sorrounding him and everyone who stayed at the table, it was from the school of conjuration, it wasn't the first time he sensed something like this, but ir was the first time that he felt two sides of the weave, he was sure that they've been teleported to another plane, twice now...but could it be that they also traveled through time? He wondered...
The dreams that haunted Sigmund began to take a toll on his day to day living. After a while he spent every waking moment reliving those dreams, trying to figure out what they meant. He sought guidance from the temple he studied at, who told him that these visions were not to be taken lightly. They advised him to put aside his current life and seek out the meaning of these visions, for they could be the signs of a great evil coming. They expressed confidence in his abilities. He was no longer a mere child and he had grown to become quite the capable warrior.
Sigmund was reluctant; however, the visions intensified shortly after his conversation with the temple authorities, and they began to drive him mad. He knew he had no choice at this point. He must leave behind his temple studies and pursue the meaning of the visions. He said his goodbyes to his family and friends and set out for Waterdeep. He figured such a large city couldn't be the worst place to start seeking answers.
Without much gold to his name finding passage to Waterdeep was a difficult task. He spent many a day simply walking by himself along the beaten path, occasionally being harassed by a bandit or a goblin or two. He had to seek out healing in Waterdeep before finally arriving at The Yawning Portal after a particularly nasty encounter with a band of goblins he had whilst hitching a ride with a trade caravan for the final leg of the journey.
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Player in: Dark Omens
Guys,
Whenever you have a chance, please join the campaign using the following link :
https://ddb.ac/campaigns/join/1622894241026383
To confirm your interest in playing this campaign, once I have your information, I'll post a message with the gold you earned during the time that took you to meet the rest of the group, and here is a little line that might help you get a better idea of what's going on, just to make sure we all are on the same page:
While you were dreaming, something separated your mind from your body, your mind now free to wander through different planes met with a group of people that experienced the same. The person recently killed by the cultists showed clear evidence of being an older version of someone of the party... when you returned to your body, that last experience felt more as a premonition than a dream or a memory.
We will start adventuring as soon as everyone meet at the tavern.
Thanks for your time and have fun.
Opium stepped through the doors of the tavern and pulled back his green hood. He despised these places, so sickeningly similar to each other that every time he woke up in one he had to put extra effort in remembering which one it was. This one was no different, but even standing at the door the Druid could see it as the one his dreams guided him to. Same fireplace, same stag horns above it - what a cruel fate for the noble beast, to be dispayed and mocked as such - and same tiefling warming his hands near it.
Hey, Sparlock149, sorry for using your character as a prop (basically), I hope you don't mind. It's somewhat story-driven, this druid can't tell humans apart very well. I promise I'll keep my writing to my own character once I realize who is actually playing and what the hell is going on ;)
Opium was not one to take his dreams at face value or disregard them entirely. The nightmares were nothing new, but that dream felt differently. It felt like a vision. But visions are not prophecies. It is but a glimpse of a possible future. So he spoke and he listened. He listened to the stars, to the wind, to the trees. There's a lot one can hear if one's willing to listen. He spoke to the spirits and beasts, to the telthors and fey. Many answered the call of the Druid, but few had anything to say. So he ventured even further, against the advice and warnings of his circle - to the land of men. He found his way through their villages and cities, seeking advice and guidance of those who knew the secrets of the Arcane. He ventured and found nothing.
He asked assistance of beast gods of Rashemen and made an inadvisable bargain. He went to the gods of his forest and made an even worse one. He was granted another vision, one that lead him here, to the City of Splendor. One that showed him where his fellow dreamers will gather. And now the favors from the otherworldly beings have ended and he has to do his part. He must see it through.
Some splendor, Opium thought, looking around the dirty tavern. He ordered a mug of wine and approached the tiefling.
"Greetings, traveller," Druid said, putting his best effort into producing the vague semblace of a smile. "I remember you from that dream. You no doubt know the one I'm speaking of. My druid name is hard to pronounce, but in common tongue ot means Opium. I suppose it will do. I've put a lot of effort into finding this place and people in it. Although I must admit, I'm not good at telling stranger humans apart, so you were the only one I recognozed from the start.Looking around, I think I recognize a few more. The lot of us are due a conversation and, hopefully, an explanation, wouldn't you agree?"
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
It had been quite a journey by the time Darvin reached Waterdeep. He'd managed to find passage on a coach, offering the protection of his magic in exchange for the ride. Coming into the city, he was amazed by its size. In Candlekeep, Darvin had mostly been restricted to libraries, classrooms, and his own quarters.
In his first day in Waterdeep, Darvin various shops, buying any bartering and buying supplies he was lacking following the journey, and asking after locations of any libraries or schools of magic in the city. After a long day, he decides to head over to the pub, hoping to quench his palate with a good ale.
Warming his hands at the fireplace, he was surprised when he was interrupted by a voice behind him. Turning around he recognized the druid speaking to him.
"How unexpected! Some God must be playing tricks on us for us to meet like this. I've been searching the city for some spell to find the people from that.... that dream. My name is Darvin Dundragon. You say the others from the vision are here as well?"
Looking around the room, Darvin searches for familiar faces from out of the visions. Seeing one, he approaches, assuming his new companion would follow him. "Hello stranger. Have you also been troubled by visions as of late?"
(Just posting the below for your what I was doing)
Below is a little montage for him getting to Waterdeep:
After the strange myriad of dreams he has been having, Roland has found his way onto the trail leading from The Sea of Stars towards The Sword Coast. He has attempted to keep a low profile; his gaunt looking features putting people off being sociable with him. He isn't completely sure what this drive is, but he knows that Waterdeep is his destination, and that is where he is headed. He may not have much money left, and may be wearing tatty leathers after this long journey, but he will get there.
Every night he was tormented by a dream. Most of them were the recurring memory of his family, showing him what he lost. Some of the dreams just recall a shadowy skull and the flow of red robes. Then there is the other dream; the dream calling him from across the planes to summon him. He would always awaken in cold sweats, no matter the rest he took. Some of the places he was hired to be a workman at during this time called him "the ghoul", as his pasty features and cold sweats reminded them of the dead returned with dark energies.
During his travel he was accompanied by a spiritedly halfling by the name of Winterberry Thrip, who he had the closest thing to a travelling friend for the first time in a while. It helped him slightly come out of his shell after his years of reclusion. He told her about how he used to be a farmer on the Aglarond border. He did quite well for himself there, but has since become more of a nomad, traversing across Faerûn without a goal. Winterberry rekindled a kindness in his heart, reminding him that others can care for one another, even though they do not know everything about each other.
Their paths went separate ways in Cormyr, when Winterberry was requested to perform for some nobles northward of their current position. He left him with a token of friendship, a small knife that is used for peeling potatoes. It may not be an interesting or useful item, but something to remember him by nonetheless. From there he applied to be a caravan guard and followed along The Dragon Coast and the trade routes that led to The Sword Coast.
Waterdeep, the City of Splendours Roland thinks to himself as he sees the huge gates of the walled port town ahead of him. Something here is calling me, reached through my dreams and nightmares to contact me. I must find it. He wanders slowly with the caravan he is travelling with and ensures it reaches its destination. After receiving his pay, he turns to look for a place to stay and perhaps get the information he requires.
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Isabeau of House Estelmer, one of Waterdeep's many noble families, fretted as she searched the city for the others she had seen. Of particular worry was the woman who had been sacrificed. Who was she? Why were the cultists after her? Her fate tugged at the noblewoman's heartstrings. She had spent a generous amount of gold for information and that morning a street urchin had bumped into her, pressing a sealed parchment into her hand in the Market, Isabeau found a deserted alleyway and broke the seal to read the letter.
Lady Estelmer,
We have been watching for those souls you have been so publicly concerned about. Two of them have been spotted in, where else, the Yawning Portal. Perhaps there you will find the answers you seek.
Right in the moment where all of you sat on the same table, you felt an immense tingling on your head but it didn't hurt, it just numbed for a couple of seconds until you found again in that form that you remember far to well, floating now on an open meadow you all see a figure getting closer, it felt like that was the only living being as far as your eyes could see, when he spoke, his voice echoed and when it reached you it felt warm and reassuring:
I'm glad that all of you where able to come, I don't have much time, so you'll have to listen and save for questions for later when we meet again...What you saw, was indeed a premonition, nothing but a possible outcome of the years to come, as I'm talking to you opposing forces set into motion their plan to take to your realm something of unspeakable power, they seek nothing but destruction.
Unfortunately I don't know much of how it all started or who is working with them, you'll need to find that on your own. Look for the desperate, the destitute, those who lost it all, for those who lost everything often colude with evil hoping to get something back. Now look around you, find evil...
As soon as the entity said those words you were brought back to the yawning portal, no one even noticed that your minds were absent for a minute. Everyone was busy minding their own business, as it usually happens here. The pub was for from being empty and it was that time of the day in which workers look for refreshment after a long day, you looked around and noticed a couple of dwarfs having an energetic discussion (which was odd, considering their age) a table with a festive group of adventurers singing and drinking, a young man with tattered clothes who repeatedly tapped his foot against the wooden floor, only stoping to tap his fingers in a waving motion.
What do you do?
"Wait... Who are you?" Roland wearily calls out as the vision begins to fade. He then realises he is in The Yawning Portal again. Another vision he thinks to himself, then looks to the others gathered here. "You... you have all had these dreams too, correct? Please, does anyone know what is going on? It eats at me as I wake and as I rest." There is a hint of desperation in the tired face of the human, his pasty features looking more like a corpse than alive for a brief second.
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
"I swear to the Silver Aspens, if this is some gods intrigue, I'm going to be so royally pissed," Opium practically spat out. "What does it mean 'look for desperate and the destitute...'? I suggest we find ourseves a brothel, then. Even if we don't find whatever that spirit wants us too, at least we're guarateed a good time."
Druid took a large sip of a watered down wine and was glad he did not orer mead instead. No point in spoiling an impression of his favourite drink. Annoyed, he gave the room one attentive look. The man tapping his foot seems to fit the description, if one would assume that being wanted them to look right here.
"We should probably talk to him. Wait, let me rephrase that. We should probably corner him and then talk to him. He seems ready to flee at the first sign of trouble."
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Isabeau sighed. "Unfortunately, friend, I know no more than you. We've obviously been targeted by that group in the first vision for some reason and it ends with one or more of us getting sacrificed. This cannot possibly be for any good reason. The voice suggested we should 'Look for the desperate, the destitute, those who lost it all' so maybe we should keep a weather eye out for such types, but for the moment perhaps a round of ales while we compare histories and find out who we all are as our fates seem to be tied together."
(Having trouble joining the campaign with the link in the latest post from the DM.)
"...for those who lost everything often collude with evil hoping to get something back."
How true that was. Crispy had, indeed, lost everything. Her mother, her dead father, her partner, her job. Even her best friend for a while. She did collude with evil, years ago, to try and stop the chronic nightmares, but that just led to anger and banishment. It was a while before she returned home. That was the last time she dealt with demons, but the nightmares never stopped. Now she was having new dreams, where cultists were sacrificing her, and now another vision of someone she didn't know, telling her of a great evil. All she wanted was a normal life, but she got everything in the world but that. Lately she was feeling older than she was, tired, and unfocused. The Academy taught her many things, but the weight of her life was getting heavier and heavier on her shoulders as the years went by, and she felt more angry and abusive as her willpower waned, especially from the lack of sleep.
Seated at the table, she said nothing, lost in her thoughts, lost with what to do. She ached for a drink, something she was doing more and more of, to dull the thoughts, to dull the pain, to dull the memories.
"Desperate, destitute, and lost it all?" Roland looks warily around the group. "That is too broad. I am desperate, left destitute..." He trails off in his conversation.
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
"So, we're expected to run around interrogating every beggar we see until we find this 'evil'? Seems like a bit of an unfortunate stereotype. I was taught to aid the poor and needy. Hmm...perhaps..."
Sigmund stands up and digs a few copper pieces out of his pocket. He walks over to the young man in tattered clothes and flips the coins onto the table in front of him.
"It's not much, but it's close to all I have at this point. Perhaps you could put it towards some new clothes. Tell me, friend, what brings you here?" he says to the man.
DMing: Adventures in (and around) Houndstooth | Sellswords on the Endless Plains
Player in: Dark Omens
Darvin watches the man get up and approach the fellow in tattered clothes. "I think our fellow is on the the right idea. We must have been led here for a reason. Perhaps that man has answers. Meanwhile, I'm going to see if there's any magic here... I couldn't find any traces after the first vision, but perhaps I'll be more lucky with this one."
From his backpack, Darvin pulls out an arcane spellbook and seems to disappear within his own head, gesticulating and mumbling words of magic underneath his breath as he's reading from one of its pages.
Casting Detect Magic as a ritual while Sigmund talks to the man in the corner.
"Well, good luck with that," druid commented, producing a tiny pouch prom his pocket. "In the meantime, I have a better idea. I have a nice little poison I conconted, it's called Malice (Inhaled). It is a volatile powder that I can snow him with. He's blinded, scared, I promise him an antidote if he talkes, he talks. Profit. Of course, I don't have an antidote, but the effect should pass within the hour. It's a win-win. Of course there's always a possibility that he will talk on his own, but when was the last time fate has been so kind?"
Opium is not generally an evil *******, he's just pissed and sober right now.
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Without stopping his ritual, Darvin glances up at Opium, wondering what type of company he had fallen into, then turned immediately back to his trusted spellbook.
I have to figure out what magic has drawn us here, he thinks to himself.
Feeling a bit unnerved by the current talk and the wizard beginning to cast some spells, Roland mutters something under his breath as well. His visage subtly changes, looking eerily healthier.
False Life: gains 8 temporary hit points for 1 hour.
"M...my name is Roland." He says timidly, as if not used to trying to trust strangers. "Perhaps we should try t-talking to him first. I don't think p-poison is the best start to this."
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
"Suit yourselves," Opium replied dryly, hiding the pouch somewhere inside his robes. "If you change your minds, I'll be over here, brooding."
DM Price of Misfortune (finished)
Crispy gives Opium a sour look. "Hells, why is there one in every group?" She wonders to herself, wearily.
As soon as Sigmund approached the man, he received a scornful look, as if the poor man forgot his current status. Sigmund (who could roll perception ir investigation if he wants to) was surprised by the man's scent, he was used todo beggars and they always reek, but not this one.
The man said "I don't want your dirty money, you peasent!" Sigmund noticed something that initialy escaped everyone else's scrutiny of the pub, the man was fixated with a couple located a couple of tables from him. He continued talking to Sigmund "look at her, so stupid! willing to throw everything away...selfish *****". She was the most beautiful girl in the place (which usually means nothing in a place like this, but today it really meant something) she had a nobleish demeanor, but she was wearing cheap clothes and the only piece of jewelry was just a gold ring. Nobles loved to be admired and they are a fairly common sight at the yawning portal.
I'll tell you what, said the man, I'm sure they're planning to spend the night together...said slowly and each word seemed to upset him more as he spoke it, if I'm right kill him right there un front of her...she needs to know that her actions bear consequences. If you do that I'll hice you a nice reward.
While this occurred Darvin was finishing the Magic ritual and sensed something troubling, the spell succesfully detected magic sorrounding him and everyone who stayed at the table, it was from the school of conjuration, it wasn't the first time he sensed something like this, but ir was the first time that he felt two sides of the weave, he was sure that they've been teleported to another plane, twice now...but could it be that they also traveled through time? He wondered...