The killmoulis rifling though Albert's rations takes a long sniff to finish their meal, then places their snout near Albert to get of whiff of his scent. After Albert finishes talking, the tiny creature tilts their head to the side as they consider the question. You hear a thought inside your head.
I don't think I do... by what name would you like to call me?
While Albert is engaging with this odd new addition to the party, a dwarf in stained finery, the aristocratic adornments of a senator of Khuri-Khan, approaches Arvos. Her appearance is an odd mix of humble and refined. Her face is sweat-streaked and sunburnt, but her jewelry and hair pins suggests she's lived most of her life indoors in palaces or estates. You recognize her as Amelista, a somewhat well-intended (if somewhat snobbish) member of the community who's been vying for a seat on the council. She's a known critic of the current council's leadership thus far, and has been trying to brand herself as a servant of the people. However, her posh lifestyle hasn't presented her with opportunities to develop skills that the people need. She knows nothing of engineering, agriculture, medicine, plumbing, or even basic maintenance and service. But she does have a keen eye for military strategy, and a certain kind of tenacity in debate that has won over, or worn down, many opponents in her long career. Most evenings, you'll find her gambling and chatting up residents at the Laughing Dwarf. During the day, she's often campaigning for a spot on the council or butting heads with council members, demanding action to meet the needs of the people.
"So you're the brave heroes who brought hope back to our struggling community. When I heard that you had returned, I knew I needed to meet you in person."
Albert is extremely surprised and excited to receive a telepathic message. "Oh my, now that's a valuable skill my little friend. Haven't met many who could send thoughts. Just because of that I'd like to call you Sise. As SIxth SEnse. If you don't like it, we can think of something better. Or we can change it every day. Up to you. Regardless, feel free to snack if you wish. There should still be some water in the barels as well."
Arvos thinks to himself. This place sure draws in the aristocratic beauties. "Hello I am Arvos. As you can see the golden company is trying to save this place one step at a time. For now we are helping to rebuild and build rapport with the kobolds. Now is there anything you can do to help?"
Albert is extremely surprised and excited to receive a telepathic message. "Oh my, now that's a valuable skill my little friend. Haven't met many who could send thoughts. Just because of that I'd like to call you Sise. As SIxth SEnse. If you don't like it, we can think of something better. Or we can change it every day. Up to you. Regardless, feel free to snack if you wish. There should still be some water in the barels as well."
Sise... siiiiiiissseeee you hear the creature play back the words in your head as they try out the new name. I like it. And what may I call you?
Arvos thinks to himself. This place sure draws in the aristocratic beauties. "Hello I am Arvos. As you can see the golden company is trying to save this place one step at a time. For now we are helping to rebuild and build rapport with the kobolds. Now is there anything you can do to help?"
She shrugs helplessly. "Very little, I'm afraid. I've been battling with the council to be heard on many issues these poor refugees have been facing. But my concerns seem to be falling on deaf ears. Which is why I'm campaigning to join the council. I have connections in the north. With enough influence, I could bring proper weapons, food, water, medical supplies... everything we need to fortify and stabilize our new home. But there are..." she looks around conspiratorially... "obstacles." She pauses to sweep a sweaty lock of hair stuck to her forehead and considers telling you more. "Tell me... have you visited the candlemaker? I have heard that her candles are made using a most exotic special ingredient." There's a hint of conspiracy in her voice.
Passive Insight 15
You notice that she's tracing a symbol with her finger. It's the same symbol that the assassin was wearing at the inn. The indication is that there is some connection between Dana the Candlemaker and the cult of Sargonnas.
Arvos frowns realizing she has a connection to the assassin. "No, I have not seen the Candlemaker. Now I may not be a simple man, but I aim to be one. Please speak more plainly. What are these special ingredients. Are you saying she uses dangerous substances." he then leans closer and whispers "What is you connection to the Cult of Sargonnas?"
Arvos frowns realizing she has a connection to the assassin. "No, I have not seen the Candlemaker. Now I may not be a simple man, but I aim to be one. Please speak more plainly. What are these special ingredients. Are you saying she uses dangerous substances." he then leans closer and whispers "What is you connection to the Cult of Sargonnas?"
Her pupils dilate and her eyes dart about nervously. "I have no such connection," she hisses, "And be careful where you say that name. There are eyes and ears everywhere." Amelista leans back and giggles loudly, swatting your arm as if you told an inappropriate joke. "Oh you're nothing but trouble, aren't you?"
She hooks your arm and guides you to an alleyway. "Dana's tale is a tragic one. Her son was young and too bold. His smart tongue got him killed by the Green Dragon Army before she came here to Santekh. She started making candles to build a shrine for him. As she honed her skills, she began making them for a living. Now, every night, she hands out candles to the refugees. Every night. Hundreds of them. Even when our supply chain was cut off."
She looks at Arvos... waiting for him to make the connection. "Candles are made from tallow. Animal fat."
Based on your passive insight...
There aren't enough animals here to produce that much tallow. And even if there were, the price of animal fat would be astronomical in the midst of a drought and famine. She could never afford to give so many candles away. Which means the fat is coming from an easily accessible, low cost (or free) source.
Amelista waits for you to catch on. "The Hachakee patrols recently discovered and eradicated Green Dragon scouts. Their bodies were left torn as if to appear slain by wild animals." She licks her lips and steadies her breath... seeming nervous to speak the last part out loud. "But there have been rumors of a shadowy figure visiting the site and dragging bodies away. They report hearing the shadowy figure singing a lullaby as she does so."
Arvos blinks in horror and then disgust "This damnable war has spread misery far and wide. It has broken a once sane woman. Thank you for telling me this detail. She must be stopped before she turns her skills on us or the refugees. In regard to the connection to the cult I see you weaving the same sign as the assassin we encountered. Care to explain yourself?"
Arvos blinks in horror and then disgust "This damnable war has spread misery far and wide. It has broken a once sane woman. Thank you for telling me this detail. She must be stopped before she turns her skills on us or the refugees. In regard to the connection to the cult I see you weaving the same sign as the assassin we encountered. Care to explain yourself?"
Amelista nods in agreement with your assessment. "I made the sign as a subtle attempt to imply that Sargonnas is involved in this." She laughs mirthlessly. "Forgive me... I'm accustomed to speaking with politicians who rarely pay attention to what's being said, and only on that which is implied. I'll remember to speak frankly with you in the future." Her smile seems genuine enough. She takes a deep breath and continues explaining herself. "Those who are consumed by grief are a target for Sargonnas. He is the god of wrathful vengeance, after all. This place is a hotbed of individuals who are obsessed with avenging their lost lives, their fallen loved ones, and the endless injustices beset upon the nations that have been conquered by the Dragon Armies. It is my suspicion that Dana is an acolyte of Sargonnas. But I don't think it stops there. I think there are those within the council who also serve him, and are sabotaging this settlement intentionally to sew outrage." She looks over to Princess Harkail and her subjects as they toil to repair what will become housing for the the remaining refugees.
"I think the kobolds are a scapegoat... an easy enemy to direct that outrage. The kobolds are crafty, sure. But there's no way they could've successfully raided that armed caravan unless they were given information in time to form a proper trap and attack them when they were most vulnerable. Someone sabotaged that caravan, I think."
She looks at you expecting to see skepticism. "Some think I'm always preaching doom, but I know what the devotees of Sargonnas are capable of. He is the frequent lover of Takhisis, and a right bastard. Sargonnas doesn't care who his subjects hate... only that the hate is all-consuming. And that all-consuming hatred will tear this place apart before it's even finished being developed."
Her expression is serious when she looks up into your eyes. "I have no money to pay The Golden Company, but I think if you can catch Dana in the act, I can demand an interrogation and subsequent investigation. I believe we can shed light on the hidden threat within our walls. Clearing Santekh of Sargonnas's influence will secure me a seat on the council. And from there, I can assure you access to resources, titles, a retainer fee... whatever you need."
Sera wiped the dust from her face as she stepped through the gates of the desolate outpost. The arid landscape stretched out before her, and the keep, battered and crumbling, seemed barely able to stand. Refugees scurried about, attempting makeshift repairs on the ruins, their faces gaunt and clothes threadbare. The hardships they had endured were evident in every hollow cheek and tattered garment. Like Sera, they were coated in dust, but her Solamnic shield and sword still drew a few curious glances.
The journey had been grueling, and Sera had hoped to find a place to wash away the stench of caravan mules and sweat. But Handar, ever focused, headed straight for his sister’s tavern. Gero had gone off on his own, intent on investigating rumors of a library nearby, so Sera followed the dwarf.
Handar’s sister, Glynnis, ran an establishment called The Dancing Dwarf Dance Hall. The tavern was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the harshness of the outpost. Upon seeing her brother, Glynnis greeted him with a hearty hug before launching into a spirited argument about his failure to bring enough of their family’s secret brewing ingredients. The siblings’ banter came to an abrupt halt when Glynnis noticed Sera’s wild, unkempt hair.
The dwarf woman’s hands twitched with barely contained excitement as she eagerly introduced herself. Before Sera could fully process what was happening, Glynnis had started braiding her hair. Caught off guard but too tired to protest, Sera allowed her to work. When she was done, Sera sported two neat ponytails—hairstyles she hadn’t worn since childhood.
Handar, watching the scene with amusement, chuckled and used the moment to ask his sister for directions around the outpost.
The day's work is weary, but with the help of the kobolds, and all the fresh water the workers can drink, the refugees make alarmingly good progress. In time, a runner arrives with 600 gold pieces and presents it to Albert and Arvos. It's marked from Verhanna as payment for services rendered. Shortly thereafter, the workers take a much needed break as food and drink are distributed to the workers.
As morale begins to rise, the emergency caravan arrives early with the supplemental supplies. Even though the resources are still less than ideal, many in the town cheer on the arrival of the much needed food, water, tools, raw materials, trade goods, and merchandise! Shouts of promise to buy drinks at The Laughing Dwarf after the days work fill the air. And a generally merry vibe fuels the workers to the end of the day.
The sun hangs low over the western wall. While Arvos and Albert are discussing their next steps, a young kender with eyes so intensely silver, they seem to be enchanted approaches you, escorting a sour-looking barbarian, and a kind-looking cleric.
The young kender,wearing clunky, makeshift armor marked with a hand-painted insignia of Solomirathnius, the great silver dragon of The Citadel of Light, points to Albert and Arvos while looking at Theron and Sera. "That's them. The Golden Company." He puts one hand on his hip, and with the other, he forms a shade over his eyes and grins at the two. "Well... two of them anyway. So, what's all this talk about visiting Dana? Does she have new Candles of Evocation for sale? With your supplies arriving, now might be a good time to strike before she runs out. I might just pop in myself." He grins at the group, nodding as if he's totally invited to come with you.
Sera followed the young Kender toward the town square, her steps careful and uncertain. The Kender’s makeshift armor clinked as he moved with exaggerated confidence, his bright demeanor in stark contrast to the grim, bearded man trailing behind them. The man’s stern gaze made Sera uneasy, but she avoided looking directly at him, focusing instead on the square ahead.
When they arrived, the Kender gestured grandly toward two figures waiting there—the remnants of the so-called Golden Company. Sera hesitated before stepping forward, her fingers brushing nervously over the freshly braided ponytails that Glynnis had insisted on earlier.
“Thank you,” she said quietly to the Kender before turning her attention to the two remaining members of the group. Her silver triangle holy symbol caught the light as she adjusted the strap of her shield, the small motion steadying her nerves.
“I’m Sera, a hired sword from Solamnia,” she began, her voice calm but cautious. The Solamnic markings on her shield and sword stood out against the rest of her gear, which was a patchwork of Khurish craftsmanship. “I’ve just arrived with a caravan to the outpost,” she added, glancing down for a moment.
“I, um, apologize for the smell.” She gave a small, self-conscious smile, gesturing vaguely toward herself. “Traveling with mules tends to linger.” She shifted her weight, her fingers briefly tracing the edge of the holy symbol at her neck. “I’d like to help out, though—if the Golden Company has room for another blade.”
Her gaze flicked between the two as she waited, her posture tense but determined.
Before caravan arrives Albert talks with Arvos: "Oh my, this seems rather alarming. Assumptions are dangerous though, so we must discretely investigate."
After the runner arrives with gold, Albert offers to split it in half with Arvos.
When the caravan arrives and Sera starts talking: "Well met and pardon my smell as well. We worked hard at the refugee camp and water is more useful for drinking, rather than washing your sweaty head. Ah, where's my manners - I am Albert. Our company would definitely have a use for more hands and minds. Don't know about blades - they tend to complicate things. Regardless, welcome to Sanketh" As you're conversing, you see an elderly human with gray hair and beard. He is well groomed and very frail looking. Probably close to 70 years old. He is dressed in silvery white/gray robes and you can see that there is a chain shirt under them. He walks with the aid of a quarterstaff that has an infinity symbol carved on it. The same symbol can be found on his robes as well. He speaks very calmly and his voice is gentle and caring.
The workers continue to pack up their tools for the day. Princess Harkail barks out some orders in YipYak and the retainers return to her side. She walks up to the group and Tekel bristles at their presence. Princess Harkail keeps herself a respectable distance from the suddenly agitated kender.
"We will go to our room now at The Laughing Dwarf. My retainers are weary and need food and rest," the kobold princess explains to Arvos before taking her leave. The retainers scurry behind her. Rapport between the kobolds and the other workers was slow earned. No one seems to be offering to buy them drinks, but no one is openly threatening them anymore. It would seem the idea to help the locals has paid off some in securing their safety for the night.
Tekel sneers at them as they leave though. "Verhannas says I can't collect a bounty from their hides. A pity. But you lot seem to be doing a good enough job keeping them in line." His fingers wring the pommel of his short sword eagerly. "But if that should change, I'll be ready." He looks over at your group. His dark demeanor suddenly seems bright and cheerful again, as if he didn't just threaten to kill and skin your friends. "Right?" He says with a laugh, which trails off into an awkward silence. Finally sensing that he's not a part of this group, he points a thumb over his shoulder to the dance hall. "I'm going to join the rest for a drink. If you need help with any quests, feel free to call on me, Tekel the Dragonslayer!" With that, he bounds off toward the dance hall, taking up a nearby settler on their offer to buy him a drink.
Theron slowly circles the 3 members of the Golden Company, glaring at them menacingly. When he gets close to Sise, Theron makes a quick movement in an attempt to scare the kilmoulis. The barbarian smirks at the reaction and puts his big burly arms on the shoulders of Albert and Arvos and says in a low, rough voice, “If I’m not fighting, I’m drinking! I sure as hell am not standing around talking”. The large man turns briskly away and heads to the tavern.
Theron slowly circles the 3 members of the Golden Company, glaring at them menacingly. When he gets close to Sise, Theron makes a quick movement in an attempt to scare the kilmoulis. The barbarian smirks at the reaction and puts his big burly arms on the shoulders of Albert and Arvos and says in a low, rough voice, “If I’m not fighting, I’m drinking! I sure as hell am not standing around talking”. The large man turns briskly away and heads to the tavern.
The killmoulis leaps back, startled, and hides between Albert's legs. I don't like him,he telepathically complains to Albert. Albert can sense Sise's discontent. He brings evil with him...
As Theron walks away, you can see the giant scythe strapped to his back. It's alarmingly similar to Bran's signature weapon.
Sera watched one of the Golden Company’s members, an older man who introduced himself as Albert. His voice carried an air of wisdom as he remarked that everyone smelled because water in the outpost was scarce and better used for drinking than washing. Sera found his practicality impressive, though she couldn’t help but notice the holy symbol of Mishakal he wore. The sight piqued her curiosity, and she felt an eagerness to speak with him about his devotion to the goddess.
Before she could approach him, the barbarian in the group stepped forward, his looming presence directed at a tiny Killmoulis nearby. The little creature froze, trembling in fear as the barbarian moved aggressively toward it, clearly intent on scaring it. The Killmoulis squeaked in terror, darting away as the barbarian barked a laugh, seemingly pleased with himself. He then muttered something about going off to drink since there was no one to kill.
Sera clenched her fists at the display. She hated bullies, and the barbarian’s behavior filled her with disgust. Unable to stay silent, she spoke, her tone sharp and cutting as she directed her words at him.
“Bullies always choose the weakest to torment, thinking it shows strength. All it ever reveals is their own cowardice.”
Her voice carried enough weight to make her contempt clear, though she kept her expression controlled as she watched him saunter off.
Theron has pretty good hearing. He had developed the skill in order to increase his chance of survival in his dangerous business. When he heard the shrill complaints coming from behind him, he figured it was coming from the little girl that just had the pleasure of meeting the Great Theron Shadewind. She was small and frail looking....and NICE. Not his type at all.
Feeling gas build up in his bowels, he kicks out his leg and emits a loud blast of flatulence, that causes passersby near him to gasp in disgust.
Theron laughs and continues his trek to the tavern. He is proud of himself in his perfect choice of rebuttal to the little girl's statement.
((I have decided to really step outside of my comfort zone with Theron. He is NOTHING like me, and vice versa. I really like anti-heroes and have always wanted to play one. I hope you all understand. My goal is for Theron to be HATED, but I plan to have him be redeemed somehow in the future))
The barbarian’s only response was a loud, deliberate fart, a crude display that perfectly matched his boorish demeanor. Sera wrinkled her nose in disgust but decided to let it slide. Despite his unpleasant behavior, she couldn’t deny that a drink at the tavern sounded appealing—especially after enduring the dry, dusty conditions of the outpost.
Turning to the others, she asked if they would join her at the tavern, adding with a faint, wry smile, “I’ve been traveling with stinky mules for days, and honestly, even they smelled worse than that poor excuse for a stink bomb. Even he seems like a big assshole his farts are as unimpressive.”
Her tone was light but carried just enough edge to hint that she seen his type many times before as she adjusted her gear, ready to head toward the Dancing Dwarf Dance Hall.
While this is happening, Albert reaches in his bag, to grab a snack for himself. His hand immediately darts out of his bag in fear.
He opens up his bag and conjures light in his palm.
In there is some weird creature
"Ah hello there little fella! Were you hungry? Must have picked you up in our travels by accident. Do you have a name I can call you?"
At the town center...
The killmoulis rifling though Albert's rations takes a long sniff to finish their meal, then places their snout near Albert to get of whiff of his scent. After Albert finishes talking, the tiny creature tilts their head to the side as they consider the question. You hear a thought inside your head.
I don't think I do... by what name would you like to call me?
While Albert is engaging with this odd new addition to the party, a dwarf in stained finery, the aristocratic adornments of a senator of Khuri-Khan, approaches Arvos. Her appearance is an odd mix of humble and refined. Her face is sweat-streaked and sunburnt, but her jewelry and hair pins suggests she's lived most of her life indoors in palaces or estates. You recognize her as Amelista, a somewhat well-intended (if somewhat snobbish) member of the community who's been vying for a seat on the council. She's a known critic of the current council's leadership thus far, and has been trying to brand herself as a servant of the people. However, her posh lifestyle hasn't presented her with opportunities to develop skills that the people need. She knows nothing of engineering, agriculture, medicine, plumbing, or even basic maintenance and service. But she does have a keen eye for military strategy, and a certain kind of tenacity in debate that has won over, or worn down, many opponents in her long career. Most evenings, you'll find her gambling and chatting up residents at the Laughing Dwarf. During the day, she's often campaigning for a spot on the council or butting heads with council members, demanding action to meet the needs of the people.
"So you're the brave heroes who brought hope back to our struggling community. When I heard that you had returned, I knew I needed to meet you in person."
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Albert is extremely surprised and excited to receive a telepathic message.
"Oh my, now that's a valuable skill my little friend. Haven't met many who could send thoughts. Just because of that I'd like to call you Sise. As SIxth SEnse. If you don't like it, we can think of something better. Or we can change it every day. Up to you. Regardless, feel free to snack if you wish. There should still be some water in the barels as well."
Arvos thinks to himself. This place sure draws in the aristocratic beauties. "Hello I am Arvos. As you can see the golden company is trying to save this place one step at a time. For now we are helping to rebuild and build rapport with the kobolds. Now is there anything you can do to help?"
Sise... siiiiiiissseeee you hear the creature play back the words in your head as they try out the new name. I like it. And what may I call you?
She shrugs helplessly. "Very little, I'm afraid. I've been battling with the council to be heard on many issues these poor refugees have been facing. But my concerns seem to be falling on deaf ears. Which is why I'm campaigning to join the council. I have connections in the north. With enough influence, I could bring proper weapons, food, water, medical supplies... everything we need to fortify and stabilize our new home. But there are..." she looks around conspiratorially... "obstacles." She pauses to sweep a sweaty lock of hair stuck to her forehead and considers telling you more. "Tell me... have you visited the candlemaker? I have heard that her candles are made using a most exotic special ingredient." There's a hint of conspiracy in her voice.
Passive Insight 15
You notice that she's tracing a symbol with her finger. It's the same symbol that the assassin was wearing at the inn. The indication is that there is some connection between Dana the Candlemaker and the cult of Sargonnas.
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Arvos frowns realizing she has a connection to the assassin. "No, I have not seen the Candlemaker. Now I may not be a simple man, but I aim to be one. Please speak more plainly. What are these special ingredients. Are you saying she uses dangerous substances." he then leans closer and whispers "What is you connection to the Cult of Sargonnas?"
Her pupils dilate and her eyes dart about nervously. "I have no such connection," she hisses, "And be careful where you say that name. There are eyes and ears everywhere." Amelista leans back and giggles loudly, swatting your arm as if you told an inappropriate joke. "Oh you're nothing but trouble, aren't you?"
She hooks your arm and guides you to an alleyway. "Dana's tale is a tragic one. Her son was young and too bold. His smart tongue got him killed by the Green Dragon Army before she came here to Santekh. She started making candles to build a shrine for him. As she honed her skills, she began making them for a living. Now, every night, she hands out candles to the refugees. Every night. Hundreds of them. Even when our supply chain was cut off."
She looks at Arvos... waiting for him to make the connection. "Candles are made from tallow. Animal fat."
Based on your passive insight...
There aren't enough animals here to produce that much tallow. And even if there were, the price of animal fat would be astronomical in the midst of a drought and famine. She could never afford to give so many candles away. Which means the fat is coming from an easily accessible, low cost (or free) source.
Amelista waits for you to catch on. "The Hachakee patrols recently discovered and eradicated Green Dragon scouts. Their bodies were left torn as if to appear slain by wild animals." She licks her lips and steadies her breath... seeming nervous to speak the last part out loud. "But there have been rumors of a shadowy figure visiting the site and dragging bodies away. They report hearing the shadowy figure singing a lullaby as she does so."
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Arvos blinks in horror and then disgust "This damnable war has spread misery far and wide. It has broken a once sane woman. Thank you for telling me this detail. She must be stopped before she turns her skills on us or the refugees. In regard to the connection to the cult I see you weaving the same sign as the assassin we encountered. Care to explain yourself?"
Amelista nods in agreement with your assessment. "I made the sign as a subtle attempt to imply that Sargonnas is involved in this." She laughs mirthlessly. "Forgive me... I'm accustomed to speaking with politicians who rarely pay attention to what's being said, and only on that which is implied. I'll remember to speak frankly with you in the future." Her smile seems genuine enough. She takes a deep breath and continues explaining herself. "Those who are consumed by grief are a target for Sargonnas. He is the god of wrathful vengeance, after all. This place is a hotbed of individuals who are obsessed with avenging their lost lives, their fallen loved ones, and the endless injustices beset upon the nations that have been conquered by the Dragon Armies. It is my suspicion that Dana is an acolyte of Sargonnas. But I don't think it stops there. I think there are those within the council who also serve him, and are sabotaging this settlement intentionally to sew outrage." She looks over to Princess Harkail and her subjects as they toil to repair what will become housing for the the remaining refugees.
"I think the kobolds are a scapegoat... an easy enemy to direct that outrage. The kobolds are crafty, sure. But there's no way they could've successfully raided that armed caravan unless they were given information in time to form a proper trap and attack them when they were most vulnerable. Someone sabotaged that caravan, I think."
She looks at you expecting to see skepticism. "Some think I'm always preaching doom, but I know what the devotees of Sargonnas are capable of. He is the frequent lover of Takhisis, and a right bastard. Sargonnas doesn't care who his subjects hate... only that the hate is all-consuming. And that all-consuming hatred will tear this place apart before it's even finished being developed."
Her expression is serious when she looks up into your eyes. "I have no money to pay The Golden Company, but I think if you can catch Dana in the act, I can demand an interrogation and subsequent investigation. I believe we can shed light on the hidden threat within our walls. Clearing Santekh of Sargonnas's influence will secure me a seat on the council. And from there, I can assure you access to resources, titles, a retainer fee... whatever you need."
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Arvos is not skeptical as he remembers passing out candles. "Excuse me a moment as I confer with my friend"
He steps back and shares what he has learned with Albert "Shall we poke around the Candle shop and maybe we can catch her red handed"
Sera wiped the dust from her face as she stepped through the gates of the desolate outpost. The arid landscape stretched out before her, and the keep, battered and crumbling, seemed barely able to stand. Refugees scurried about, attempting makeshift repairs on the ruins, their faces gaunt and clothes threadbare. The hardships they had endured were evident in every hollow cheek and tattered garment. Like Sera, they were coated in dust, but her Solamnic shield and sword still drew a few curious glances.
The journey had been grueling, and Sera had hoped to find a place to wash away the stench of caravan mules and sweat. But Handar, ever focused, headed straight for his sister’s tavern. Gero had gone off on his own, intent on investigating rumors of a library nearby, so Sera followed the dwarf.
Handar’s sister, Glynnis, ran an establishment called The Dancing Dwarf Dance Hall. The tavern was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the harshness of the outpost. Upon seeing her brother, Glynnis greeted him with a hearty hug before launching into a spirited argument about his failure to bring enough of their family’s secret brewing ingredients. The siblings’ banter came to an abrupt halt when Glynnis noticed Sera’s wild, unkempt hair.
The dwarf woman’s hands twitched with barely contained excitement as she eagerly introduced herself. Before Sera could fully process what was happening, Glynnis had started braiding her hair. Caught off guard but too tired to protest, Sera allowed her to work. When she was done, Sera sported two neat ponytails—hairstyles she hadn’t worn since childhood.
Handar, watching the scene with amusement, chuckled and used the moment to ask his sister for directions around the outpost.
The day's work is weary, but with the help of the kobolds, and all the fresh water the workers can drink, the refugees make alarmingly good progress. In time, a runner arrives with 600 gold pieces and presents it to Albert and Arvos. It's marked from Verhanna as payment for services rendered. Shortly thereafter, the workers take a much needed break as food and drink are distributed to the workers.
As morale begins to rise, the emergency caravan arrives early with the supplemental supplies. Even though the resources are still less than ideal, many in the town cheer on the arrival of the much needed food, water, tools, raw materials, trade goods, and merchandise! Shouts of promise to buy drinks at The Laughing Dwarf after the days work fill the air. And a generally merry vibe fuels the workers to the end of the day.
The sun hangs low over the western wall. While Arvos and Albert are discussing their next steps, a young kender with eyes so intensely silver, they seem to be enchanted approaches you, escorting a sour-looking barbarian, and a kind-looking cleric.
The young kender,wearing clunky, makeshift armor marked with a hand-painted insignia of Solomirathnius, the great silver dragon of The Citadel of Light, points to Albert and Arvos while looking at Theron and Sera. "That's them. The Golden Company." He puts one hand on his hip, and with the other, he forms a shade over his eyes and grins at the two. "Well... two of them anyway. So, what's all this talk about visiting Dana? Does she have new Candles of Evocation for sale? With your supplies arriving, now might be a good time to strike before she runs out. I might just pop in myself." He grins at the group, nodding as if he's totally invited to come with you.
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Sera followed the young Kender toward the town square, her steps careful and uncertain. The Kender’s makeshift armor clinked as he moved with exaggerated confidence, his bright demeanor in stark contrast to the grim, bearded man trailing behind them. The man’s stern gaze made Sera uneasy, but she avoided looking directly at him, focusing instead on the square ahead.
When they arrived, the Kender gestured grandly toward two figures waiting there—the remnants of the so-called Golden Company. Sera hesitated before stepping forward, her fingers brushing nervously over the freshly braided ponytails that Glynnis had insisted on earlier.
“Thank you,” she said quietly to the Kender before turning her attention to the two remaining members of the group. Her silver triangle holy symbol caught the light as she adjusted the strap of her shield, the small motion steadying her nerves.
“I’m Sera, a hired sword from Solamnia,” she began, her voice calm but cautious. The Solamnic markings on her shield and sword stood out against the rest of her gear, which was a patchwork of Khurish craftsmanship. “I’ve just arrived with a caravan to the outpost,” she added, glancing down for a moment.
“I, um, apologize for the smell.” She gave a small, self-conscious smile, gesturing vaguely toward herself. “Traveling with mules tends to linger.” She shifted her weight, her fingers briefly tracing the edge of the holy symbol at her neck. “I’d like to help out, though—if the Golden Company has room for another blade.”
Her gaze flicked between the two as she waited, her posture tense but determined.
Before caravan arrives Albert talks with Arvos: "Oh my, this seems rather alarming. Assumptions are dangerous though, so we must discretely investigate."
After the runner arrives with gold, Albert offers to split it in half with Arvos.
When the caravan arrives and Sera starts talking: "Well met and pardon my smell as well. We worked hard at the refugee camp and water is more useful for drinking, rather than washing your sweaty head. Ah, where's my manners - I am Albert. Our company would definitely have a use for more hands and minds. Don't know about blades - they tend to complicate things. Regardless, welcome to Sanketh"
As you're conversing, you see an elderly human with gray hair and beard. He is well groomed and very frail looking. Probably close to 70 years old. He is dressed in silvery white/gray robes and you can see that there is a chain shirt under them. He walks with the aid of a quarterstaff that has an infinity symbol carved on it. The same symbol can be found on his robes as well. He speaks very calmly and his voice is gentle and caring.
The workers continue to pack up their tools for the day. Princess Harkail barks out some orders in YipYak and the retainers return to her side. She walks up to the group and Tekel bristles at their presence. Princess Harkail keeps herself a respectable distance from the suddenly agitated kender.
"We will go to our room now at The Laughing Dwarf. My retainers are weary and need food and rest," the kobold princess explains to Arvos before taking her leave. The retainers scurry behind her. Rapport between the kobolds and the other workers was slow earned. No one seems to be offering to buy them drinks, but no one is openly threatening them anymore. It would seem the idea to help the locals has paid off some in securing their safety for the night.
Tekel sneers at them as they leave though. "Verhannas says I can't collect a bounty from their hides. A pity. But you lot seem to be doing a good enough job keeping them in line." His fingers wring the pommel of his short sword eagerly. "But if that should change, I'll be ready." He looks over at your group. His dark demeanor suddenly seems bright and cheerful again, as if he didn't just threaten to kill and skin your friends. "Right?" He says with a laugh, which trails off into an awkward silence. Finally sensing that he's not a part of this group, he points a thumb over his shoulder to the dance hall. "I'm going to join the rest for a drink. If you need help with any quests, feel free to call on me, Tekel the Dragonslayer!" With that, he bounds off toward the dance hall, taking up a nearby settler on their offer to buy him a drink.
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Theron slowly circles the 3 members of the Golden Company, glaring at them menacingly. When he gets close to Sise, Theron makes a quick movement in an attempt to scare the kilmoulis. The barbarian smirks at the reaction and puts his big burly arms on the shoulders of Albert and Arvos and says in a low, rough voice, “If I’m not fighting, I’m drinking! I sure as hell am not standing around talking”. The large man turns briskly away and heads to the tavern.
The killmoulis leaps back, startled, and hides between Albert's legs. I don't like him, he telepathically complains to Albert. Albert can sense Sise's discontent. He brings evil with him...
As Theron walks away, you can see the giant scythe strapped to his back. It's alarmingly similar to Bran's signature weapon.
My DM Registry
My Characters:
Archibald Thwipp, Human/Male/Blood Hunter/L3 posting in The Tavern, DnDBeyond
Sergeant Sylvia, Half Orc/Female/Barbarian/L3 posting in A Beginner's Guide, Myth Weavers
Carric Holimion, Wood Elf/Male/Ranger/L1 posting in Lost Mines of Phandelver, Giant in the Playground
Sera watched one of the Golden Company’s members, an older man who introduced himself as Albert. His voice carried an air of wisdom as he remarked that everyone smelled because water in the outpost was scarce and better used for drinking than washing. Sera found his practicality impressive, though she couldn’t help but notice the holy symbol of Mishakal he wore. The sight piqued her curiosity, and she felt an eagerness to speak with him about his devotion to the goddess.
Before she could approach him, the barbarian in the group stepped forward, his looming presence directed at a tiny Killmoulis nearby. The little creature froze, trembling in fear as the barbarian moved aggressively toward it, clearly intent on scaring it. The Killmoulis squeaked in terror, darting away as the barbarian barked a laugh, seemingly pleased with himself. He then muttered something about going off to drink since there was no one to kill.
Sera clenched her fists at the display. She hated bullies, and the barbarian’s behavior filled her with disgust. Unable to stay silent, she spoke, her tone sharp and cutting as she directed her words at him.
“Bullies always choose the weakest to torment, thinking it shows strength. All it ever reveals is their own cowardice.”
Her voice carried enough weight to make her contempt clear, though she kept her expression controlled as she watched him saunter off.
Theron has pretty good hearing. He had developed the skill in order to increase his chance of survival in his dangerous business. When he heard the shrill complaints coming from behind him, he figured it was coming from the little girl that just had the pleasure of meeting the Great Theron Shadewind. She was small and frail looking....and NICE. Not his type at all.
Feeling gas build up in his bowels, he kicks out his leg and emits a loud blast of flatulence, that causes passersby near him to gasp in disgust.
Theron laughs and continues his trek to the tavern. He is proud of himself in his perfect choice of rebuttal to the little girl's statement.
((I have decided to really step outside of my comfort zone with Theron. He is NOTHING like me, and vice versa. I really like anti-heroes and have always wanted to play one. I hope you all understand. My goal is for Theron to be HATED, but I plan to have him be redeemed somehow in the future))
The barbarian’s only response was a loud, deliberate fart, a crude display that perfectly matched his boorish demeanor. Sera wrinkled her nose in disgust but decided to let it slide. Despite his unpleasant behavior, she couldn’t deny that a drink at the tavern sounded appealing—especially after enduring the dry, dusty conditions of the outpost.
Turning to the others, she asked if they would join her at the tavern, adding with a faint, wry smile, “I’ve been traveling with stinky mules for days, and honestly, even they smelled worse than that poor excuse for a stink bomb. Even he seems like a big assshole his farts are as unimpressive.”
Her tone was light but carried just enough edge to hint that she seen his type many times before as she adjusted her gear, ready to head toward the Dancing Dwarf Dance Hall.