Hello, you beautiful denizens of the internet. I felt it only appropriate to try my hand at running a PbP of Icespire Peak to dip my toes into how it would feel. As your DM, should you choose to join, I feel most comfortable if you refer to me as one of three names, when asking me questions in the thread:
DM (Obviously)
Anon (A very shortened version of my username)
Cursed (A name I use for other platforms)
So, without further address, let me get into the details.
The Background
The following is taken from the book: Driven from lands farther north by more powerful dragons, a young white dragon named Cryovain has descended upon the Sword Mountains, claiming the snow-capped range as its domain. Typical of its kind, Cryovain is dim-witted and cruel. The dragon patrols the skies around Icespire Peak, surveying its territory while hunting for food and easy treasure. With each passing day, the dragon’s domain grows as it ranges farther across the land, preying on anything it can catch with its claws or freeze to death with its icy breath. Sightings of the dragon are becoming more common, as are its attacks.
A crumbling fortress on the northeast spur of Icespire Peak serves as the dragon’s lair. Cryovain seized the icy fortress from a tribe of savage orcs, killing the orc war chief and forcing the tribe’s survivors to flee into the foothills and forests. Enraged by the death of their war chief, the orcs have called upon ancient allies — evil, shapechanging, half-orc spellcasters who bless and advise them. These half-orcs worship Talos, an evil god of storms, and many dwell in the dark depths of Neverwinter Wood. In stormy weather, they gather on remote hilltops to summon Gorthok the Thunder Boar, a primal entity that serves Talos. Like the god it serves, Gorthok delights in destruction.
The orcs aren’t the only creatures thrown into upheaval by Cryovain’s sudden arrival. A manticore driven from its mountaintop nest by the roaming white dragon has migrated to the foothills and begun terrorizing folk living on the outskirts of the mining town of Phandalin. Other monsters in the region have been similarly displaced.
The Details
I'll be running the Dragon of Icespire Peak adventure, produced by Wizards of the Coast on September 4th, 2019. As many of you are likely aware, the Dragon of Icespire Peak adventure takes place on the Sword Coast, a land located in the Forgotten Realms. I'm not the best at explaining things that are already explained better than they already are, so for those of you who don't know, you're kinda outta luck, as I don't wanna copy what they wrote word-for-word. But hey, that's what Google's for!
Your characters will start at Level 1. You may use new characters (manually rolled or point-buy), or already existing characters. Please track them on D&D Beyond. If you don't have the resources on D&D Beyond for them, then PM me your initial character sheet so I know you aren't cheating. I'm looking for a max of 4 player characters to join. If you're not sure how many slots are filled, then PM me, and I will respond. To join, PM me a message asking to join, along with your character idea, and I will tell you whether or not you can post a message introducing your character. I will be accepting requests to fill up slots if there's one available. Don't be late to post. As this is my first PbP, I'll be lenient and give you a week before I forcefully retire your character, and you will no longer be allowed to play.
I have a few house rules.
Ammo only matters when you're far enough away from civilization.
I don't keep track of carry weight. Just keep it reasonable. In an extreme example; You can't carry 50 swords, axes, and staves without being immobilized from the weight.
The only form of currency is Gold. Anything that would cost Silver/Copper/Electrum(?) will instead just cost 1 GP per bundle. I.E. You can buy a quiver (24) full of arrows for 1 GP.
As for everything else, I like to play by the rule of cool. So be descriptive, and I might just throw a reward your way. Or punish you severely.
The Introduction
After years of doing nothing but your ordinary mundane job, you hear through word of mouth that there's a town located along the Sword Coast named Phandalin, looking for adventurers to help with a problem that has arisen. Describe how you choose to arrive at this town, and, for those of you feeling lucky, roll a DC 10 history check, then highlight the invisible text (I don't know how to do hidden text otherwise) that follows, as you gain that knowledge:
You've heard that Phandalin was once a thriving human town whose people were firmly allied with neighboring dwarves and gnomes. Only to be ravaged and laid waste to by Orcs. Leaving it abandoned for centuries. But, and you don't know exactly how long ago, you were never told, recently, settlers from the cities of Neverwinter and Waterdeep have begun the hard work of reclaiming the ruins of Phandalin.
Edit: I've read the PbP rules, and I intend to change the tags as soon as I have all the players. For future context,
This is not on Discord, nor do I have any intention of ever hosting on Discord because I know myself and I just wouldn't respond if it were on Discord. I do, however, know I'll check this for new posts.
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Please read the original post again, and thoroughly.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
People still looking to join are welcome to PM me and reserve a spot if there ever comes to be an opening.
Those of you whom I have accepted, please send your character's introductions, using the line in the original post as your frame of reference.
Let's get those dice rolling, and the adventure started!
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
It had been a long journey for a small halfling, coming so far from home and all. Neverwinter had had its attractions, and there was some work to be had as a cleric of the light; not much though. It didn't take long for Merrick to feel the pull of something else. Rumours. A small town, a few days down the coast and inland.
Some kind of trouble there, from what little information he could glean. It was an opportunity. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for. Asking around led him to some traders who sent a regular supply wagon up there. Phandalin it was called. Two days later he found himself jumping off the cart into a muddy street in a small town in the hills. Taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air, he lets out a sigh of anticipation his red hair standing out like flame as his hood falls to his shoulder. Adorned with well worn comfortable travelling clothes, he adjusts the pack on his back, mace swinging gently from his belt. A free hand rises unconsciously to his neck, absently touching a small sun symbol that hangs from a chain round his neck. He grabs his waterskin from the other side of his belt and takes a long draught. First things first. Find a bed for the night, then see if the rumours about this town were true!
Roven Senthem, once a soldier leading a mundane life, hears of Phandalin, a town on the Sword Coast facing troubles and seeking adventurers. Feeling a spark reignite within him, Roven mounts his horse, armed and determined, leaving his old life behind for the promise of adventure in Phandalin. Arriving at dawn, he steps into a new chapter, ready for the challenges ahead.
Colember adjusts his fashionable cape as he dismounts from the front of the tradesman's carriage his mother's money purchased a spot for him. With a nod of his head to the tradesman's wife clamber out from the storage compartment in the back, he looked around at the rising town, wondering where he should start looking for something worth his time.
Accustomed to the well-worn cobblestone streets of Waterdeep, Colember fishes out a handkerchief to block some of the dust of the town square and looks around until he sees what looks like a tavern. Achy from the road and eager to get out of the dust, a drink sounds about right he thinks as he crosses the threshold.
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Liarin: Against the Cult of the Reptile God Adewild: Shadows and Light 2 Brother Thaddeus: Rime of the Frostmaiden.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Minrakar stands atop the bluff overlooking the small valley that contained Phandalin, drinking in the untamed wilderness that he saw before him. He takes a deep breath of the fresh air of the valley, and a wide grin splits his face. Though his brother disagreed, it was good to get out Waterdeep everyone once in a while to go see the surrounding world, and he felt a spark of excitement leaping to life in chest as he surveyed the rugged landscape. There was so many possibilities to prove himself here! He could practically taste the adventure lurking amongst the hills and vales nestled up against Phandalin.
Hooking his thumbs under the straps of his pack, Minrakar begins whistling a jaunty tune as he treks down the hill towards the sleepy little frontier town of Phandalin. He had spent the past few weeks traveling amongst merchant caravans to get here, and he had walked all day yesterday by himself to get here. The latest caravan he had traveled with needed to head off in a different direction. As such, he was quite ready to rest his feet for a spell and maybe interact with the locals a bit. Afterall, he should at least get to know the folks that he would be protecting, shouldn't he? While friendliness wasn't necessarily among the tenets of the Iron Templars, Minrakar felt like it was a rather important aspect of being a paragon of all that was good that the Templars aspired to be known as. Besides, a few kind words and friendly smiles wouldn't hurt anyone.
You all appear to arrive around the same time at the small frontier town of Phandalin, and before you, you can see that it's nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains, and consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
As you all collectively, yet separately make your way into the town, you notice just from passive observation, that Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk, like some of you, who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but you can tell that most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise. They seem particularly fond of visitors, particularly if they have coins to spend or news to share.
All of you, being tired from your journey here, to some extent, make your way to an inn, entitled The Stonehill Inn, and it's conveniently located at the center of town, offering modest lodging and meals. Some of you may notice that a few doors down, posted outside the townmaster’s hall, is a job board for adventurers.
What is it that you all do?
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Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Merrick briefly stops to look at the board outside the townmaster's hall, and spends a few moments looking at the more obvious notices. Shifting his pack to a more comfortable position on his back, he makes his way to the inn, pausing to look back at the town. His gaze follows a couple of locals, and when they catch his eye he smiles at them. With a gentle "Mmmhmm" to himself he turns and enters.
Dropping his pack at an empty table, he makes his way to the bar, peering up at the high counter just above his head. With a sigh he clambers onto a stool and perches there, legs dangling. "Do you have any ale, Sir?" he asks the person behind the bar. "A long journey builds a thirst."He smiles again as he fumbles for his purse. "And do you have any beds available? I don't take up much room!"
Dropping his pack at an empty table, he makes his way to the bar, peering up at the high counter just above his head. With a sigh he clambers onto a stool and perches there, legs dangling. "Do you have any ale, Sir?" he asks the person behind the bar. "A long journey builds a thirst."He smiles again as he fumbles for his purse. "And do you have any beds available? I don't take up much room!"
As you ask the question, the proprietor, a human male, would look in your direction and say, "Of course, traveler! A room will be two gold a night and for just some food and drink? One gold for a whole meal. Otherwise, I can just tell you the list we have for drinks, and you can have the whole bottle for an gold. So! What'll it be?" As he finishes his sentence, you can't help but notice he's smiling back at you. Although I would normally make you roll to determine if this were an act or not, your passive perception is enough to give you a good idea he's being genuine.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
"A meal, a bottle and a bed all sound good," and Merrick drops the coin on the table. "One night to start with I guess. I've no idea how long I'll be in town." The halfling shrugs. "Who's Adabra Gwynn. Is she in some kind of trouble?" He gestures back towards the door. "Saw her name on the board out there. I came up here because I heard some rumours that the town was having bother of some sort while I was in Neverwinter. Is that part of the trouble?"
Theman nods solemnly, taking the gold that was on the table, and writing down a list of drinks, as well as items for your meal that you could choose from as he spoke. "Ah. Yeah. A lovely lady she is, being our only midwife. Well, with dragons getting more common, good 'ol Townmaster Wester decided it's not safe for her to be living out there anymore. A few of the farmers who pass on by the windmill she lives in have tried getting her to come back, but she doesn't want to. So, we're hoping a few adventurers can come get her. Everyone chipped in to pay for her safe return." When he was done speaking, he handed you the list, nodding and walking to the upper floor to check which rooms were currently available.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Roven, his eyes adjusting to the humble bustle of Phandalin, takes in the sight with a deep, appreciative breath. The air of quiet determination among the townsfolk, their readiness to defend what's theirs, strikes a chord within him. It's a resilience he understands all too well, reminiscent of his own soldier's resolve. With measured steps, he makes his way towards The Stonehill Inn, its simple yet welcoming façade promising a much-needed rest. However, the adventurer in him stirs as he notes the job board outside the townmaster's hall. The idea of lending his sword to these people, perhaps finding a cause greater than any he'd known before, sparks an eager flame in his heart, and then, Roven decides to investigate the job board. His soldier's gaze scans the postings, pondering over which plea to answer first, considering where he might make the most difference, but tonight, he would rest, and on the morrow, Roven would begin anew, not as a soldier of fortune, but perhaps as a guardian of Phandalin, a role he embraces with quiet resolve and a hopeful heart, so he retrace his steps towards the Inn, thinking of a good meal and rest.
His soldier's gaze scans the postings, pondering over which plea to answer first, considering where he might make the most difference, but tonight, he would rest, and on the morrow, Roven would begin anew, not as a soldier of fortune, but perhaps as a guardian of Phandalin, a role he embraces with quiet resolve and a hopeful heart, so he retrace his steps towards the Inn, thinking of a good meal and rest.
As you enter the Inn, you spot a halfling sitting alone at the table. The only reason this halfling caught your eye out of the other patrons in the inn, is because you've seen them before when you were entering Phandalin. They were also wearing a set of chainmail, which didn't strike you as off, if not for the holy symbol of a knightly order. And although you didn't see it, you could guess this halfling also had taken a look at the job board and was here for generally the same reasons as you.
As for the proprietor of this inn, you notice him coming back from being upstairs, assumably cleaning the rooms or checking on their status for someone. He's a human, and from the looks of it, shorter than you, but he seemed to have a friendly demeanor about him, something you didn't encounter often in your line of work.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Minrakar hums to himself as he enters the town. He looks appreciatively at the sturdy buildings and even sturdier people that comprised Phandalin. After getting some directions from some of the locals, Minrakar even wanders over to where the job board was located. He has to stoop down a bit to get a good look at the papers nailed to the board. After getting a good look at the jobs listed, he straightens back up and heads into the local tavern.
As Minrakar enters the tavern, he instantly sticks out like a sore thumb. He had long gotten over the fact that minotaurs often drew a lot of fearful or curious looks from others, but he supposed he did look rather intimidating. Looming at nearly 8 and half feet tall, Minrakar cut quite the imposing figure. His thick, well-muscled torso was bare, and you can see a handful of nicks and scars sprinkled across his powerfully built body. Minrakar had long given up on trying to wear shirts; it was blasted difficult to find one that fit properly, and he found them too constraining. His skin was the sun-tanned shade of one who worked often outdoors under the harsh eye of the sun. Like other minotaurs, he had a bull’s head, and his bovine head was covered in a dense, dark fur with somewhat longer patches along the lower half of his face. His thick hair extends down his neck and covers part of his chest, and it also ran down the length of his powerful back, tapering down along his spine the farther it went down. His horns extended out nearly a foot from his skull, and they curved upwards slightly. A bovine tail with a tuft on the end swishes the air behind him, and beneath his padded pants that were cut off at about mid-thigh, you see he has large hooves for feet. A pair of handaxes hang from loops at his sides, and a polished glaive is strapped to the pack he wears on his back, the ends of the large weapon extending out quite a ways. Despite his bestial appearance, his warm brown eyes were surprisingly human-like and friendly.
With everyone’s attention on him for a moment, he smiles and gives a small, friendly waive. “Howdy y’all!’ he rumbles in a deep and resonant voice. “Don’t mind me,” he continues with a somewhat forced chuckle that he hoped would appease anyone’s apprehension at seeing a minotaur in their tavern. With that, he weaves his way between tables to get to the bar. Once he arrives, he settles down on an unfortunate tablestool that groans underneath his weight as he lets out a contented sigh of relief.
He fishes out a gold coin and sets it on the bar. “I’ve been walking for quite some time now, and I’d really appreciate it if I could snatch something to drink,” he says with a friendly air to the barkeep.
Roven's gaze drifts across the inn's guests, briefly landing on a halfling in chainmail, an unusual sight that momentarily captures his interest. This fleeting moment of connection, sparked by their mutual interest in the job board, kindles a sense of camaraderie within him. Yet, it's the innkeeper's approachable demeanor that draws Roven's focus next. Pondering the options laid out on the job board, he feels a compelling urge towards the task of protecting Adabra Gwynn, the lone midwife, driven not by the prospect of reward but by a call to safeguard her against the looming dragon peril.
Motivated to take action, Roven gently clears his throat to gain the innkeeper's attention, greeting him with a nod of respect and saying, "Good evening. The job board outside caught my eye, especially the request involving Adabra Gwynn of Umbrage Hill. Could you direct me to her place? Also, any tips on persuading her to come to Phandalin for safety would be much appreciated," "and with a smile “After a long journey, nothing sounds better than a good beer and a hearty meal. What do you recommend tonight?". He also contemplates engaging with the halfling, sensing an opportunity to ally with someone who shares his adventurous spirit.
Motivated to take action, Roven gently clears his throat to gain the innkeeper's attention, greeting him with a nod of respect and saying, "Good evening. The job board outside caught my eye, especially the request involving Adabra Gwynn of Umbrage Hill. Could you direct me to her place? Also, any tips on persuading her to come to Phandalin for safety would be much appreciated," "and with a smile “After a long journey, nothing sounds better than a good beer and a hearty meal. What do you recommend tonight?". He also contemplates engaging with the halfling, sensing an opportunity to ally with someone who shares his adventurous spirit.
The innkeeper nodded and smiled, "Why not sit with the halfling over there while I go serve the big fella who just walked in behind you?" As he made his way over to the bar where the Minotaur had planted themselves.
He fishes out a gold coin and sets it on the bar. “I’ve been walking for quite some time now, and I’d really appreciate it if I could snatch something to drink,” he says with a friendly air to the barkeep.
As you sat at the bar, you'd notice the inn's proprietor walking over to you, he looked shorter than the humans you were used to dealing with as a templar, and he smiled an uneasy, but still friendly smile. "I take it you're also here for the Umbrage Hill job? Those two fellows over there will be able to help you. In the meantime, I'll be bringing drinks over to that table for all three of you. It seems to me that, well. That's what you're all after anyways." He said, having directed you to a Halfling, appearing to be of some holy order themselves, and a Human, clearly a soldier of sorts, taking the gold coin and handing it back to you, before heading into the cellar where he kept the drinks.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
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Introduction
Hello, you beautiful denizens of the internet. I felt it only appropriate to try my hand at running a PbP of Icespire Peak to dip my toes into how it would feel.
As your DM, should you choose to join, I feel most comfortable if you refer to me as one of three names, when asking me questions in the thread:
So, without further address, let me get into the details.
The Background
The following is taken from the book:
Driven from lands farther north by more powerful dragons, a young white dragon named Cryovain has descended upon the Sword Mountains, claiming the snow-capped range as its domain. Typical of its kind, Cryovain is dim-witted and cruel. The dragon patrols the skies around Icespire Peak, surveying its territory while hunting for food and easy treasure. With each passing day, the dragon’s domain grows as it ranges farther across the land, preying on anything it can catch with its claws or freeze to death with its icy breath. Sightings of the dragon are becoming more common, as are its attacks.
A crumbling fortress on the northeast spur of Icespire Peak serves as the dragon’s lair. Cryovain seized the icy fortress from a tribe of savage orcs, killing the orc war chief and forcing the tribe’s survivors to flee into the foothills and forests. Enraged by the death of their war chief, the orcs have called upon ancient allies — evil, shapechanging, half-orc spellcasters who bless and advise them. These half-orcs worship Talos, an evil god of storms, and many dwell in the dark depths of Neverwinter Wood. In stormy weather, they gather on remote hilltops to summon Gorthok the Thunder Boar, a primal entity that serves Talos. Like the god it serves, Gorthok delights in destruction.
The orcs aren’t the only creatures thrown into upheaval by Cryovain’s sudden arrival. A manticore driven from its mountaintop nest by the roaming white dragon has migrated to the foothills and begun terrorizing folk living on the outskirts of the mining town of Phandalin. Other monsters in the region have been similarly displaced.
The Details
I'll be running the Dragon of Icespire Peak adventure, produced by Wizards of the Coast on September 4th, 2019.
As many of you are likely aware, the Dragon of Icespire Peak adventure takes place on the Sword Coast, a land located in the Forgotten Realms.
I'm not the best at explaining things that are already explained better than they already are, so for those of you who don't know, you're kinda outta luck, as I don't wanna copy what they wrote word-for-word. But hey, that's what Google's for!
Your characters will start at Level 1.
You may use new characters (manually rolled or point-buy), or already existing characters. Please track them on D&D Beyond. If you don't have the resources on D&D Beyond for them, then PM me your initial character sheet so I know you aren't cheating.
I'm looking for a max of 4 player characters to join. If you're not sure how many slots are filled, then PM me, and I will respond. To join, PM me a message asking to join, along with your character idea, and I will tell you whether or not you can post a message introducing your character. I will be accepting requests to fill up slots if there's one available.
Don't be late to post. As this is my first PbP, I'll be lenient and give you a week before I forcefully retire your character, and you will no longer be allowed to play.
I have a few house rules.
As for everything else, I like to play by the rule of cool. So be descriptive, and I might just throw a reward your way. Or punish you severely.
The Introduction
After years of doing nothing but your ordinary mundane job, you hear through word of mouth that there's a town located along the Sword Coast named Phandalin, looking for adventurers to help with a problem that has arisen. Describe how you choose to arrive at this town, and, for those of you feeling lucky, roll a DC 10 history check, then highlight the invisible text (I don't know how to do hidden text otherwise) that follows, as you gain that knowledge:
You've heard that Phandalin was once a thriving human town whose people were firmly allied with neighboring dwarves and gnomes. Only to be ravaged and laid waste to by Orcs. Leaving it abandoned for centuries. But, and you don't know exactly how long ago, you were never told, recently, settlers from the cities of Neverwinter and Waterdeep have begun the hard work of reclaiming the ruins of Phandalin.
Edit:
I've read the PbP rules, and I intend to change the tags as soon as I have all the players. For future context,
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Is this recruitment still open?
Is this on discord
Please read the original post again, and thoroughly.
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Sent you a PM
All slots are filled!
People still looking to join are welcome to PM me and reserve a spot if there ever comes to be an opening.
Those of you whom I have accepted, please send your character's introductions, using the line in the original post as your frame of reference.
Let's get those dice rolling, and the adventure started!
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
It had been a long journey for a small halfling, coming so far from home and all. Neverwinter had had its attractions, and there was some work to be had as a cleric of the light; not much though. It didn't take long for Merrick to feel the pull of something else. Rumours. A small town, a few days down the coast and inland.
Some kind of trouble there, from what little information he could glean. It was an opportunity. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for. Asking around led him to some traders who sent a regular supply wagon up there. Phandalin it was called. Two days later he found himself jumping off the cart into a muddy street in a small town in the hills. Taking a deep breath of the clean mountain air, he lets out a sigh of anticipation his red hair standing out like flame as his hood falls to his shoulder. Adorned with well worn comfortable travelling clothes, he adjusts the pack on his back, mace swinging gently from his belt. A free hand rises unconsciously to his neck, absently touching a small sun symbol that hangs from a chain round his neck. He grabs his waterskin from the other side of his belt and takes a long draught. First things first. Find a bed for the night, then see if the rumours about this town were true!
History Check 10
Roven Senthem, once a soldier leading a mundane life, hears of Phandalin, a town on the Sword Coast facing troubles and seeking adventurers. Feeling a spark reignite within him, Roven mounts his horse, armed and determined, leaving his old life behind for the promise of adventure in Phandalin. Arriving at dawn, he steps into a new chapter, ready for the challenges ahead.
Hostoory check: 2
Colember adjusts his fashionable cape as he dismounts from the front of the tradesman's carriage his mother's money purchased a spot for him. With a nod of his head to the tradesman's wife clamber out from the storage compartment in the back, he looked around at the rising town, wondering where he should start looking for something worth his time.
Accustomed to the well-worn cobblestone streets of Waterdeep, Colember fishes out a handkerchief to block some of the dust of the town square and looks around until he sees what looks like a tavern. Achy from the road and eager to get out of the dust, a drink sounds about right he thinks as he crosses the threshold.
Liarin: Against the Cult of the Reptile God
Adewild: Shadows and Light 2
Brother Thaddeus: Rime of the Frostmaiden.
Minrakar stands atop the bluff overlooking the small valley that contained Phandalin, drinking in the untamed wilderness that he saw before him. He takes a deep breath of the fresh air of the valley, and a wide grin splits his face. Though his brother disagreed, it was good to get out Waterdeep everyone once in a while to go see the surrounding world, and he felt a spark of excitement leaping to life in chest as he surveyed the rugged landscape. There was so many possibilities to prove himself here! He could practically taste the adventure lurking amongst the hills and vales nestled up against Phandalin.
Hooking his thumbs under the straps of his pack, Minrakar begins whistling a jaunty tune as he treks down the hill towards the sleepy little frontier town of Phandalin. He had spent the past few weeks traveling amongst merchant caravans to get here, and he had walked all day yesterday by himself to get here. The latest caravan he had traveled with needed to head off in a different direction. As such, he was quite ready to rest his feet for a spell and maybe interact with the locals a bit. Afterall, he should at least get to know the folks that he would be protecting, shouldn't he? While friendliness wasn't necessarily among the tenets of the Iron Templars, Minrakar felt like it was a rather important aspect of being a paragon of all that was good that the Templars aspired to be known as. Besides, a few kind words and friendly smiles wouldn't hurt anyone.
History check: 15
You all appear to arrive around the same time at the small frontier town of Phandalin, and before you, you can see that it's nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains, and consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
As you all collectively, yet separately make your way into the town, you notice just from passive observation, that Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk, like some of you, who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but you can tell that most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise. They seem particularly fond of visitors, particularly if they have coins to spend or news to share.
All of you, being tired from your journey here, to some extent, make your way to an inn, entitled The Stonehill Inn, and it's conveniently located at the center of town, offering modest lodging and meals. Some of you may notice that a few doors down, posted outside the townmaster’s hall, is a job board for adventurers.
What is it that you all do?
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Merrick briefly stops to look at the board outside the townmaster's hall, and spends a few moments looking at the more obvious notices. Shifting his pack to a more comfortable position on his back, he makes his way to the inn, pausing to look back at the town. His gaze follows a couple of locals, and when they catch his eye he smiles at them. With a gentle "Mmmhmm" to himself he turns and enters.
Dropping his pack at an empty table, he makes his way to the bar, peering up at the high counter just above his head. With a sigh he clambers onto a stool and perches there, legs dangling. "Do you have any ale, Sir?" he asks the person behind the bar. "A long journey builds a thirst." He smiles again as he fumbles for his purse. "And do you have any beds available? I don't take up much room!"
As you ask the question, the proprietor, a human male, would look in your direction and say, "Of course, traveler! A room will be two gold a night and for just some food and drink? One gold for a whole meal. Otherwise, I can just tell you the list we have for drinks, and you can have the whole bottle for an gold. So! What'll it be?"
As he finishes his sentence, you can't help but notice he's smiling back at you. Although I would normally make you roll to determine if this were an act or not, your passive perception is enough to give you a good idea he's being genuine.
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
"A meal, a bottle and a bed all sound good," and Merrick drops the coin on the table. "One night to start with I guess. I've no idea how long I'll be in town." The halfling shrugs. "Who's Adabra Gwynn. Is she in some kind of trouble?" He gestures back towards the door. "Saw her name on the board out there. I came up here because I heard some rumours that the town was having bother of some sort while I was in Neverwinter. Is that part of the trouble?"
The man nods solemnly, taking the gold that was on the table, and writing down a list of drinks, as well as items for your meal that you could choose from as he spoke. "Ah. Yeah. A lovely lady she is, being our only midwife. Well, with dragons getting more common, good 'ol Townmaster Wester decided it's not safe for her to be living out there anymore. A few of the farmers who pass on by the windmill she lives in have tried getting her to come back, but she doesn't want to. So, we're hoping a few adventurers can come get her. Everyone chipped in to pay for her safe return." When he was done speaking, he handed you the list, nodding and walking to the upper floor to check which rooms were currently available.
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Roven, his eyes adjusting to the humble bustle of Phandalin, takes in the sight with a deep, appreciative breath. The air of quiet determination among the townsfolk, their readiness to defend what's theirs, strikes a chord within him. It's a resilience he understands all too well, reminiscent of his own soldier's resolve. With measured steps, he makes his way towards The Stonehill Inn, its simple yet welcoming façade promising a much-needed rest. However, the adventurer in him stirs as he notes the job board outside the townmaster's hall. The idea of lending his sword to these people, perhaps finding a cause greater than any he'd known before, sparks an eager flame in his heart, and then, Roven decides to investigate the job board. His soldier's gaze scans the postings, pondering over which plea to answer first, considering where he might make the most difference, but tonight, he would rest, and on the morrow, Roven would begin anew, not as a soldier of fortune, but perhaps as a guardian of Phandalin, a role he embraces with quiet resolve and a hopeful heart, so he retrace his steps towards the Inn, thinking of a good meal and rest.
As you enter the Inn, you spot a halfling sitting alone at the table. The only reason this halfling caught your eye out of the other patrons in the inn, is because you've seen them before when you were entering Phandalin. They were also wearing a set of chainmail, which didn't strike you as off, if not for the holy symbol of a knightly order. And although you didn't see it, you could guess this halfling also had taken a look at the job board and was here for generally the same reasons as you.
As for the proprietor of this inn, you notice him coming back from being upstairs, assumably cleaning the rooms or checking on their status for someone. He's a human, and from the looks of it, shorter than you, but he seemed to have a friendly demeanor about him, something you didn't encounter often in your line of work.
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.
Minrakar hums to himself as he enters the town. He looks appreciatively at the sturdy buildings and even sturdier people that comprised Phandalin. After getting some directions from some of the locals, Minrakar even wanders over to where the job board was located. He has to stoop down a bit to get a good look at the papers nailed to the board. After getting a good look at the jobs listed, he straightens back up and heads into the local tavern.
As Minrakar enters the tavern, he instantly sticks out like a sore thumb. He had long gotten over the fact that minotaurs often drew a lot of fearful or curious looks from others, but he supposed he did look rather intimidating. Looming at nearly 8 and half feet tall, Minrakar cut quite the imposing figure. His thick, well-muscled torso was bare, and you can see a handful of nicks and scars sprinkled across his powerfully built body. Minrakar had long given up on trying to wear shirts; it was blasted difficult to find one that fit properly, and he found them too constraining. His skin was the sun-tanned shade of one who worked often outdoors under the harsh eye of the sun. Like other minotaurs, he had a bull’s head, and his bovine head was covered in a dense, dark fur with somewhat longer patches along the lower half of his face. His thick hair extends down his neck and covers part of his chest, and it also ran down the length of his powerful back, tapering down along his spine the farther it went down. His horns extended out nearly a foot from his skull, and they curved upwards slightly. A bovine tail with a tuft on the end swishes the air behind him, and beneath his padded pants that were cut off at about mid-thigh, you see he has large hooves for feet. A pair of handaxes hang from loops at his sides, and a polished glaive is strapped to the pack he wears on his back, the ends of the large weapon extending out quite a ways. Despite his bestial appearance, his warm brown eyes were surprisingly human-like and friendly.
With everyone’s attention on him for a moment, he smiles and gives a small, friendly waive. “Howdy y’all!’ he rumbles in a deep and resonant voice. “Don’t mind me,” he continues with a somewhat forced chuckle that he hoped would appease anyone’s apprehension at seeing a minotaur in their tavern. With that, he weaves his way between tables to get to the bar. Once he arrives, he settles down on an unfortunate tablestool that groans underneath his weight as he lets out a contented sigh of relief.
He fishes out a gold coin and sets it on the bar. “I’ve been walking for quite some time now, and I’d really appreciate it if I could snatch something to drink,” he says with a friendly air to the barkeep.
Roven's gaze drifts across the inn's guests, briefly landing on a halfling in chainmail, an unusual sight that momentarily captures his interest. This fleeting moment of connection, sparked by their mutual interest in the job board, kindles a sense of camaraderie within him. Yet, it's the innkeeper's approachable demeanor that draws Roven's focus next. Pondering the options laid out on the job board, he feels a compelling urge towards the task of protecting Adabra Gwynn, the lone midwife, driven not by the prospect of reward but by a call to safeguard her against the looming dragon peril.
Motivated to take action, Roven gently clears his throat to gain the innkeeper's attention, greeting him with a nod of respect and saying, "Good evening. The job board outside caught my eye, especially the request involving Adabra Gwynn of Umbrage Hill. Could you direct me to her place? Also, any tips on persuading her to come to Phandalin for safety would be much appreciated," "and with a smile “After a long journey, nothing sounds better than a good beer and a hearty meal. What do you recommend tonight?". He also contemplates engaging with the halfling, sensing an opportunity to ally with someone who shares his adventurous spirit.
The innkeeper nodded and smiled, "Why not sit with the halfling over there while I go serve the big fella who just walked in behind you?" As he made his way over to the bar where the Minotaur had planted themselves.
As you sat at the bar, you'd notice the inn's proprietor walking over to you, he looked shorter than the humans you were used to dealing with as a templar, and he smiled an uneasy, but still friendly smile. "I take it you're also here for the Umbrage Hill job? Those two fellows over there will be able to help you. In the meantime, I'll be bringing drinks over to that table for all three of you. It seems to me that, well. That's what you're all after anyways." He said, having directed you to a Halfling, appearing to be of some holy order themselves, and a Human, clearly a soldier of sorts, taking the gold coin and handing it back to you, before heading into the cellar where he kept the drinks.
Like many of you, I love playing D&D. Although I tend to prefer hosting 1x1 campaigns, less scheduling conflict involved.
If you want a DM who will try his damndest to play with your characters in mind, feel free to contact me. I have too many stories circulating in my head and I want to tell them all to someone in a way they can interact with the worlds I make.