Crypt Skeletons Gain 62 XP each Found one platinum signet ring (50 gp), 50/4=12.5 5x shortswords, 10x5=50, 50/2=25, 25/4=6.25 5x shortbows, 25x5=125, 125/2=62.5, 62.5/4=15.62 25x arrows << keep 12.5+6.25+15.62=34.37
Glass Staff (Iarno, boss fight) Each party member gains 150 XP Each party member also gains 200 XP for a major quest completion 4x studded leather, 45x4=180, 180/2=90, 90/4=22.5 8x shortsword, 10x8=80, 80/2=40, 40/4=10 a quarterstaff, 0.2 gp...0.02 each 180 sp, 18/4=4.5 130 gp, 32.5 silk pouch 5x gems (10 gp), 50/4=12.5 two peridots (15 gp), 30/4=7.5 one pearl 100 gp, 100/4=25 22.5+0.02+4.5+32.5+12.5+7.5+25
962.42 + 104.52 = 1066.94 gp 1561 + 350 = 1911 XP
You each also earn 100 gp from Halia Thornton in Phandalin who pay you each for returning the beaver pelts and other cargo stolen from her caravans she recovered after you cleared out the Redbrand Hideout
Grand Totals (as promised) I dropped the coppers that wouldn't divide evenly so you guys will be short some 3 sp, so add back 25 sp, 30 cp 1166.94 + 5.5 = 1172.44 gp 1911 XP
I'm signing off for a few hours, will be back to see how the RP and voting went around 10 pm EST. We can start rolling for side quests then, it should be a lot of fun.
Whilst in town, Daewen takes her newfound riches (she feels like a dragon, hording those bags and bags of gold), and finds the magic shop, where she plunks down a whopping 1000gp to purchase a Rapier of Life Stealing, and then sells one of her Shortswords (purchase price = 10gp, selling price = 50% * 10 = +5gp).
After walking out of the shop, she gets about 10 yards down the dusty dirt road and realizes that her balance is now off...she prefers to fight with two weapons of the same weight. A rapier and a shortsword just won't do. Nope. So, she quickly turns around and scrambles back to the shop, where she sells her remaining Shortsword (+5gp) and purchases a common Rapier (-25gp). This time, she walks out of the shop with a grin plastered on her face, stretching from ear to ear. As she makes her way back to the group, she practices withdrawing and swinging the dual rapiers (one magic, one common) around, getting into the habit of resetting her muscle memory to adapt to the new swords.
OOC: I vote for Agatha's side quest first, as well.
As Daewen marches back to where the rest of the adventurers are waiting, her mind wanders, lost in thought. A swirling, raven-black portal erupts beside her. The sound of shrieking crows pummel the air around her, and without thinking Daewen reaches out, drawn by an unseen force. The world dissolves into shadows.
She lands in a vast, bioluminescent cavern. A figure cloaked in darkness sits on a massive obsidian throne - the Raven Queen. Her ruby eyes meet Daewen's. Through gestures and her collection of notes and scrolls, Daewen recounts her adventures. The Raven Queen listens, a hint of amusement flickering in her fiery gaze.
"Commendable service," the Raven Queen says, her voice a chorus of ravens. She waves a hand, and the cavern shimmers.
Daewen finds herself back in Phandalin, an hour seemingly vanished. The party is oblivious. The portal is gone, but the memory of the Raven Queen lingers, a reminder of her silent duty.
As Daewen marches back to where the rest of the adventurers are waiting, her mind wanders, lost in thought. A swirling, raven-black portal erupts beside her. The sound of shrieking crows pummel the air around her, and without thinking Daewen reaches out, drawn by an unseen force. The world dissolves into shadows.
She lands in a vast, bioluminescent cavern. A figure cloaked in darkness sits on a massive obsidian throne - the Raven Queen. Her ruby eyes meet Daewen's. Through gestures and her collection of notes and scrolls, Daewen recounts her adventures. The Raven Queen listens, a hint of amusement flickering in her fiery gaze.
"Commendable service," the Raven Queen says, her voice a chorus of ravens. She waves a hand, and the cavern shimmers.
Daewen finds herself back in Phandalin, an hour seemingly vanished. The party is oblivious. The portal is gone, but the memory of the Raven Queen lingers, a reminder of her silent duty.
You look down and see that you are wearing a clockwork amulet in the shape of a raven. As the spring loaded amulet "ticks", the eye lids of the raven shaped bronze amulet, sometimes opens and close and each hour the pupils seemingly change direction, but it's difficult to tell for sure. You have no idea who crafted this treasure or even how you got it, but it's clearly some sort of blessing from the Raven Queen.
The town of Conyberry was sacked by barbarians years ago and now lies in ruins. The Triboar Trail runs right through the abandoned town, providing an easy landmark
From the ruins of Conyberry, an old trail leads northwest into Neverwinter Wood. Agatha's lair is said to be just a few miles outside of this ruined town.
The forest grows dark and still as the trail winds deeper into the trees. Heavy vines and thick layers of moss drape the branches, and the air is noticeably colder than it was in the ruined village. Rounding a bend in the trail, you see a screen made from the warped branches of trees standing close together, woven into a domelike shelter in the shadows. A low doorway leads inside.
A home of sorts is sheltered within the dome of woven branches. It is sparsely furnished with chests, shelves, a table, and a reclined couch, all of it old and of elven craft.
After what seems like an eternity, but actually about 9 minutes, the air grows cold, and a powerful feeling of dread grips you. A cold, pale light flickers in the air, rapidly taking on the form of a female elf, her hair and robes waving in a spectral wind. She might have been beautiful once, but a hateful expression twists her features now. "Foolish mortals," she snarls. "What do you want here? Do you not know it is death to seek me out?"
“A thousand pardons for our intrusion. But we were bid here to bring you a gift in exchange for information. I can only assume that you are Agatha. I was told to expect a woman of great beauty, yet even in my minds eye I could not have imagined a visage so stunning.”
Wilhorn digs in the saddlebag to retrieve the “gift”.
”When shown this item, I knew its owner must have been of the highest refinement and elegance. Surely this item will be even more revered when it is back in your possession.”
With that, Wilhorn carefully reveals the jeweled silver comb, smiles contently, and offers it to the spectral elf.
"A trinket? Seriously? You must think me a shallow woman. Only a self-centered person could be so transparently manipulated by a trinket."
"Oh. It's a comb? A comb for my beautiful hair? Give it to me. Give it to me. Quickly Now. Quickly."
The ghost swipes the comb from your fingers and begins to brush it through her wispy visage of where her hair should be."
"Oh. Ah."
You see her wild and chaotic form gently change to an image of rich with color. Her hair turns golden brown and her skin flush and pink.
"How do I look?" She says quickly, batting her eyes as if she's tempting you. "I know. I know." She pauses for dramatic effect. "I look like a princess. Well I am. A princess you know."
She shifts back to a horrible looking version of herself, pale skin and wispy ghostly features.
The ghostly figure smiles with cold amusement. "Very well," she says. "I know that you seek many things. Ask me one question, and I will give you an answer."
"Bowgentle? I recall. You know, I once owned his spellbook. This must have been over one hundred years ago. I had a lot of nice things back then. There was this peculiar man, a necromancer. His named was Tsernoth. That's right, he was Tsernoth the necromancer, from the city of Iriaebor. He came to my castle to visit my family. He was most interested in my spellbook. We made a trade. I gave him Bowgentle's spellbook in exchange for fragrat oils and perfumes, cases of the finest fragrances you could trade for, back then. Well that's all I know. and I did say only one question. I know not what became of the book after it was given to the necromancer."
With her final word, she swiftly swirls invisible cackling, "Thanks for the trinket" And in a Booming Voice she says, "NOW BEGONE"
You stand there for another few minutes in the silent forest of Neverwinter Wood, waiting for her to reappear but she is gone.
Before leaving town Vex, excuses himself quickly and visits the Lionshield Coster to seek the purchase of a better hand-crossbow. He mentions to the proprietor about having heard form his old master a hand-crossbow in the shape of a dragons wing and if they have one available or if they can perhaps attain one eventually. If they do not have one then he will settle at the moment for just a magical hand-crossbow that will hopefully let him hit more often. He will also inquire about a backpack of sorts that can carry more than what it should be able to carry. His old hand-crossbow he will just leave with the shop as he has no use for it anymore, considering it a donation to the town for defense.
Vex steps out from behind Jyin, where he obviously was not hiding, once the ghost disappears, "OK we go now? That was not an invite to stay. What next on list, retrieve item from old store," then he visibly sighs , his shoulders slumping, "dealing with more undead at tower?"
As you crest a low ridge, you spy the crumbling ruins of the old watchtower standing amid the rugged hills. The place is so old that the walls are only mounds of rubble enclosing a courtyard of sorts, adjacent to the broken stump of an old tree. A colorful tent has been set up in the middle of the courtyard, but no one is in sight.
Mearly approaching the rubble reveals a deathly odor waifting from the tower's direction.
Upon setting foot into thw cortyard, twelve corpses stand up from among the debris. Roll initiative
Vex swears and then runs and jumps behind one of the mounds of rubble and start to fire at the nearest undead abomination. Dorah once more breathing life into this bolt as he fires. If Vex hits his target he will mark the undead as his favored foe.
A frigid wind whipped around Daewen, carrying with it a mournful wail that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't the fear of a normal creature, but a deeper, more primal dread that resonated with her Shadar Kai ancestry. As the party rounded the corner, she saw the banshee - a horrifying visage of sorrow and rage. Daewen's hand instinctively went to the hilts of her rapiers, her eyes scanning the area for escape routes. Though her face remained impassive, a tremor of unease ran through her, a cold echo of the banshee's keening cry resonating within her very soul.
However, Daewen knew this wasn't a foe she should confront directly. With a quick hand gesture, she subtly warned Wilhorn of the danger, a silent plea for him to take point. She hung back, trusting her charismatic teammate's approach. As Wilhorn stepped forward, offering the banshee the beautiful comb, Daewen watched with a mixture of cautious hope and ancestral empathy. Perhaps, for a moment, the banshee wouldn't be consumed by its sorrow, and a flicker of its lost beauty could be rekindled.
Daewen watched with a flicker of surprise as the banshee scoffed at the comb, only to snatch it with childish urgency. As the ghostly figure transformed, a kaleidoscope of colors replacing the skeletal visage, Daewen's gaze followed the shift intently. A flicker of something akin to empathy crossed her features, quickly replaced by her usual guarded expression.
Relief flickered in Daewen's eyes as the banshee's booming voice faded. The threat seemed to have passed, for now. Despite the lingering chill in the Neverwinter Wood, a tension had noticeably left her shoulders. With a sharp mind for details, Daewen committed the banshee's words to memory - Tsernoth the necromancer, Iriaebor, the exchange for fragrances. These were the pieces they needed. A silent glance passed between her and Wilhorn, a shared understanding forming without words. The hunt, it seemed, would continue.
Now
Daewen's Initiative: 14
A wave of nausea hit Daewen as they crested the ridge. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, emanating from the crumbling watchtower. As they entered the courtyard, a flash of movement from the debris sent a jolt through her. Twelve figures, unmistakably corpses, rose from their makeshift resting places. Daewen's hand shot to her rapier hilts once again, her eyes scanning the scene with a practiced ranger's efficiency. A silent warning flashed across her hand, a pre-arranged symbol for danger, as she assessed the threat. Their unexpected welcome committee wasn't composed of flesh and blood, but of the cold touch of undeath.
^^^ Above links to the last XP and gp audit
starting gp, 500 gp
ending gp, 808 gp, 25 sp, 30 cp each (party purse 5 cp)
starting XP, 300 XP
ending XP, 987 XP
808 + 32.5 = 840.5 gp
987 + 100 = 1087 XP
840.5 + 31.94 = 872.44 gp
1087 + 75 = 1162 XP
1162 + 25 = 1187 XP
872.44 + 34.37 = 906.81 gp
1187 + 62 = 1249 XP
906.81 + 25.36 = 932.17 gp
1249 + 112 = 1361 XP
932.17 + 30.25 = 962.42 gp
1361 + 200 = 1561 XP
962.42 + 104.52 = 1066.94 gp
1561 + 350 = 1911 XP
You each also earn 100 gp from Halia Thornton in Phandalin who pay you each for returning the beaver pelts and other cargo stolen from her caravans she recovered after you cleared out the Redbrand Hideout
Grand Totals (as promised)
I dropped the coppers that wouldn't divide evenly so you guys will be short some 3 sp, so add back 25 sp, 30 cp
1166.94 + 5.5 = 1172.44 gp
1911 XP
I'm signing off for a few hours, will be back to see how the RP and voting went around 10 pm EST. We can start rolling for side quests then, it should be a lot of fun.
Whilst in town, Daewen takes her newfound riches (she feels like a dragon, hording those bags and bags of gold), and finds the magic shop, where she plunks down a whopping 1000gp to purchase a Rapier of Life Stealing, and then sells one of her Shortswords (purchase price = 10gp, selling price = 50% * 10 = +5gp).
After walking out of the shop, she gets about 10 yards down the dusty dirt road and realizes that her balance is now off...she prefers to fight with two weapons of the same weight. A rapier and a shortsword just won't do. Nope. So, she quickly turns around and scrambles back to the shop, where she sells her remaining Shortsword (+5gp) and purchases a common Rapier (-25gp). This time, she walks out of the shop with a grin plastered on her face, stretching from ear to ear. As she makes her way back to the group, she practices withdrawing and swinging the dual rapiers (one magic, one common) around, getting into the habit of resetting her muscle memory to adapt to the new swords.
OOC: I vote for Agatha's side quest first, as well.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
As Daewen marches back to where the rest of the adventurers are waiting, her mind wanders, lost in thought. A swirling, raven-black portal erupts beside her. The sound of shrieking crows pummel the air around her, and without thinking Daewen reaches out, drawn by an unseen force. The world dissolves into shadows.
She lands in a vast, bioluminescent cavern. A figure cloaked in darkness sits on a massive obsidian throne - the Raven Queen. Her ruby eyes meet Daewen's. Through gestures and her collection of notes and scrolls, Daewen recounts her adventures. The Raven Queen listens, a hint of amusement flickering in her fiery gaze.
"Commendable service," the Raven Queen says, her voice a chorus of ravens. She waves a hand, and the cavern shimmers.
Daewen finds herself back in Phandalin, an hour seemingly vanished. The party is oblivious. The portal is gone, but the memory of the Raven Queen lingers, a reminder of her silent duty.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
You look down and see that you are wearing a clockwork amulet in the shape of a raven. As the spring loaded amulet "ticks", the eye lids of the raven shaped bronze amulet, sometimes opens and close and each hour the pupils seemingly change direction, but it's difficult to tell for sure. You have no idea who crafted this treasure or even how you got it, but it's clearly some sort of blessing from the Raven Queen.
The town of Conyberry was sacked by barbarians years ago and now lies in ruins. The Triboar Trail runs right through the abandoned town, providing an easy landmark
From the ruins of Conyberry, an old trail leads northwest into Neverwinter Wood. Agatha's lair is said to be just a few miles outside of this ruined town.
The forest grows dark and still as the trail winds deeper into the trees. Heavy vines and thick layers of moss drape the branches, and the air is noticeably colder than it was in the ruined village. Rounding a bend in the trail, you see a screen made from the warped branches of trees standing close together, woven into a domelike shelter in the shadows. A low doorway leads inside.
A home of sorts is sheltered within the dome of woven branches. It is sparsely furnished with chests, shelves, a table, and a reclined couch, all of it old and of elven craft.
After what seems like an eternity, but actually about 9 minutes, the air grows cold, and a powerful feeling of dread grips you. A cold, pale light flickers in the air, rapidly taking on the form of a female elf, her hair and robes waving in a spectral wind. She might have been beautiful once, but a hateful expression twists her features now. "Foolish mortals," she snarls. "What do you want here? Do you not know it is death to seek me out?"
“A thousand pardons for our intrusion. But we were bid here to bring you a gift in exchange for information. I can only assume that you are Agatha. I was told to expect a woman of great beauty, yet even in my minds eye I could not have imagined a visage so stunning.”
Wilhorn digs in the saddlebag to retrieve the “gift”.
”When shown this item, I knew its owner must have been of the highest refinement and elegance. Surely this item will be even more revered when it is back in your possession.”
With that, Wilhorn carefully reveals the jeweled silver comb, smiles contently, and offers it to the spectral elf.
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
"A trinket? Seriously? You must think me a shallow woman. Only a self-centered person could be so transparently manipulated by a trinket."
"Oh. It's a comb? A comb for my beautiful hair? Give it to me. Give it to me. Quickly Now. Quickly."
The ghost swipes the comb from your fingers and begins to brush it through her wispy visage of where her hair should be."
"Oh. Ah."
You see her wild and chaotic form gently change to an image of rich with color. Her hair turns golden brown and her skin flush and pink.
"How do I look?" She says quickly, batting her eyes as if she's tempting you. "I know. I know." She pauses for dramatic effect. "I look like a princess. Well I am. A princess you know."
She shifts back to a horrible looking version of herself, pale skin and wispy ghostly features.
The ghostly figure smiles with cold amusement. "Very well," she says. "I know that you seek many things. Ask me one question, and I will give you an answer."
Wilhorn asks,
“Can you give us any information about the whereabouts of a lost spellbook owned by the mage Bowgentle?”
Wilhorn stifles a shiver, both from the cold and the banshee’s image.
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
"Bowgentle? I recall. You know, I once owned his spellbook. This must have been over one hundred years ago. I had a lot of nice things back then. There was this peculiar man, a necromancer. His named was Tsernoth. That's right, he was Tsernoth the necromancer, from the city of Iriaebor. He came to my castle to visit my family. He was most interested in my spellbook. We made a trade. I gave him Bowgentle's spellbook in exchange for fragrat oils and perfumes, cases of the finest fragrances you could trade for, back then. Well that's all I know. and I did say only one question. I know not what became of the book after it was given to the necromancer."
With her final word, she swiftly swirls invisible cackling, "Thanks for the trinket" And in a Booming Voice she says, "NOW BEGONE"
You stand there for another few minutes in the silent forest of Neverwinter Wood, waiting for her to reappear but she is gone.
Before leaving town Vex, excuses himself quickly and visits the Lionshield Coster to seek the purchase of a better hand-crossbow. He mentions to the proprietor about having heard form his old master a hand-crossbow in the shape of a dragons wing and if they have one available or if they can perhaps attain one eventually. If they do not have one then he will settle at the moment for just a magical hand-crossbow that will hopefully let him hit more often. He will also inquire about a backpack of sorts that can carry more than what it should be able to carry. His old hand-crossbow he will just leave with the shop as he has no use for it anymore, considering it a donation to the town for defense.
Vex steps out from behind Jyin, where he obviously was not hiding, once the ghost disappears, "OK we go now? That was not an invite to stay. What next on list, retrieve item from old store," then he visibly sighs , his shoulders slumping, "dealing with more undead at tower?"
As you crest a low ridge, you spy the crumbling ruins of the old watchtower standing amid the rugged hills. The place is so old that the walls are only mounds of rubble enclosing a courtyard of sorts, adjacent to the broken stump of an old tree. A colorful tent has been set up in the middle of the courtyard, but no one is in sight.
Mearly approaching the rubble reveals a deathly odor waifting from the tower's direction.
Upon setting foot into thw cortyard, twelve corpses stand up from among the debris. Roll initiative
Zombies roll initiative
Z1 18-2, Z2 4-2, Z3 17-2, Z4 18-2,
Z5 13-2, Z6 6-2, Z7 10-2, Z8 3-2,
Z9 13-2, Z10 20-2, Z11 10-2, Z12 9-2
More undead. And damn. That’s a lot of them. Wilhorn thinks to himself.
He looks around apologetically to his teammates from his saddle atop Drool. If it was he who triggered this ambush, he is truly sorry.
He also assesses the “battlefield”. Can the center of a 40’ circle be envisioned containing all the undead but excluding the party?
He makes one last look to Jyin. This was his rodeo, the quest he accepted from his friend Daran. How was he going to react?
Initiative: 9
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
Jyin init 3-1
16+2+15+16+11+4+8+1+11+18+8+7=117
117/12=9.75
9+11...
Depending on a few things, Wilhorn’s free hand is reaching for the scroll of Fireball.
Wilhorn Dustwater | Halfling, Lightfoot | Sorcerer, Divine Soul 2 / Warlock, Celestial 2 | Warriors, LMoP (NathanAscher -DM)
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
Vex Init: Nat 20 = 24
[OOC: For when he is able to attack]
Vex swears and then runs and jumps behind one of the mounds of rubble and start to fire at the nearest undead abomination. Dorah once more breathing life into this bolt as he fires. If Vex hits his target he will mark the undead as his favored foe.
Hand-Crossbow: To Hit: 14 Piercing Damage: 7 Lightning Damage: 1 Infused Strike: 5 Total: 13
Earlier
A frigid wind whipped around Daewen, carrying with it a mournful wail that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't the fear of a normal creature, but a deeper, more primal dread that resonated with her Shadar Kai ancestry. As the party rounded the corner, she saw the banshee - a horrifying visage of sorrow and rage. Daewen's hand instinctively went to the hilts of her rapiers, her eyes scanning the area for escape routes. Though her face remained impassive, a tremor of unease ran through her, a cold echo of the banshee's keening cry resonating within her very soul.
However, Daewen knew this wasn't a foe she should confront directly. With a quick hand gesture, she subtly warned Wilhorn of the danger, a silent plea for him to take point. She hung back, trusting her charismatic teammate's approach. As Wilhorn stepped forward, offering the banshee the beautiful comb, Daewen watched with a mixture of cautious hope and ancestral empathy. Perhaps, for a moment, the banshee wouldn't be consumed by its sorrow, and a flicker of its lost beauty could be rekindled.
Daewen watched with a flicker of surprise as the banshee scoffed at the comb, only to snatch it with childish urgency. As the ghostly figure transformed, a kaleidoscope of colors replacing the skeletal visage, Daewen's gaze followed the shift intently. A flicker of something akin to empathy crossed her features, quickly replaced by her usual guarded expression.
Relief flickered in Daewen's eyes as the banshee's booming voice faded. The threat seemed to have passed, for now. Despite the lingering chill in the Neverwinter Wood, a tension had noticeably left her shoulders. With a sharp mind for details, Daewen committed the banshee's words to memory - Tsernoth the necromancer, Iriaebor, the exchange for fragrances. These were the pieces they needed. A silent glance passed between her and Wilhorn, a shared understanding forming without words. The hunt, it seemed, would continue.
Now
Daewen's Initiative: 14
A wave of nausea hit Daewen as they crested the ridge. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, emanating from the crumbling watchtower. As they entered the courtyard, a flash of movement from the debris sent a jolt through her. Twelve figures, unmistakably corpses, rose from their makeshift resting places. Daewen's hand shot to her rapier hilts once again, her eyes scanning the scene with a practiced ranger's efficiency. A silent warning flashed across her hand, a pre-arranged symbol for danger, as she assessed the threat. Their unexpected welcome committee wasn't composed of flesh and blood, but of the cold touch of undeath.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
I'll make a map but one fireball won't get all twelve. At best you can catch 6