More than five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as the Phandelver’s Pact, by which they would share a rich mine in a wondrous cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. In addition to its mineral wealth, the mine contained great magical power. Human spellcasters allied themselves with the dwarves and gnomes to channel and bind that energy into a great forge (called the Forge of Spells), where magic items could be crafted. Times were good, and the nearby human town of Phandalin (pronounced fan-duh-lin) prospered as well. But then disaster struck when orcs swept through the North and laid waste to all in their path.
A powerful force of orcs reinforced by evil mercenary wizards attacked Wave Echo Cave to seize its riches and magic treasures. Human wizards fought alongside their dwarf and gnome allies to defend the Forge of Spells, and the ensuing spell battle destroyed much of the cavern. Few survived the cave-ins and tremors, and the location of Wave Echo Cave was lost.
For centuries, rumors of buried riches have attracted treasure seekers and opportunists to the area around Phandalin, but no one has ever succeeded in locating the lost mine. In recent years, people have resettled the area. Phandalin is now a rough-and-tumble frontier town. More important, the Rockseeker brothers — a trio of dwarves — have discovered the entrance to Wave Echo Cave, and they intend to reopen the mines.
Unfortunately for the Rockseekers, they are not the only ones interested in Wave Echo Cave. A mysterious villain known as the Black Spider controls a network of bandit gangs and goblin tribes in the area, and his agents have followed the Rockseekers to their prize. Now the Black Spider wants Wave Echo Cave for himself, and he is taking steps to make sure no one else knows where it is.
Locke, Lucius and Theqen have just arrived in the city of Neverwinter. Each of the three had a letter in their possession from their dwarven friend and patron, Gundren Rockseeker,
Pal, I've a job for you. I've reached out to some of the other boys as well. Simple work on the face of it, but I need capable hands. You're to escort a wagon to Phandalin. I've gone ahead with a warrior I know, Sildar Hallwinter, to attend to business in the town while you all follow behind with the supplies.
You'll be paid 10 gold each by the owner of Barthen’s Provisions in Phandalin when you deliver the wagon safely to his trading post. Head to the tavern and look for two lads that have rolled into town. They're on for the job as well. I've told them to meet you there. Stout man by the name of Ollanius and an...Aasimar I think they're called, by the name of Brand.
Entering the Tavern in Phandalin, Brand surveys the patrons. Some having hearty conversations without a care for who's listening and some drinking their woes away. Some eye the Aasimar cleric as though his mere presence makes their beer sour. Brand couldn't decide whether it was because he was an Aasimar or a cleric and frowned. Brand appeared to be the first to arrive so he walked over to a table and sat alone with his back to the wall awaiting word from the Gundren Rockseeker. Brand asked for a cup of tea as he sat patiently waiting for his would be companions to arrive.
There’s a small disturbance just to the left of the fire. A stout but aging soldier shouts “I said I’m not interested” and kicks one of a pair of gnomes into the side of the bar. They’ve been trying to sell their wares and clearly just ran out of luck. The landlord shouts “I’ve told you pair before” and they both scurry out. ‘Sorry Mr Ollanius, can I get you another one? On the house of course.’
Hearing the name Ollanius, Brand looks up from his cup of overly strong and bitter tea. So that's Ollanius, Brand wonders. Brand stands, puts on a welcoming smile and calls out to get Ollanius's attention.
Ollanius, I'm Brand. I have a table, come join me.
The old soldier next to the fire picks up his kit bags and sword muttering something about not kicking the gnome hard enough. Walking over he sits with Brand and extends his hand in greeting as the landlord hands him a fresh pitcher of beer.
Bloody things. Been a pain in the arse at every single Inn for the last 20 leagues. Anyway I’m Ol. It’s nice to meet a friendly face in these parts.
Not a sound was heard when Theqen entered the town of Phandalin. Not a hair disturbed, not a foot misplaced just the way Theqen likes it.
Theqen has been observing his potential team mates since they entered the town of Phandalin. Trying to ascertain what kind of Riff Raff Rockseeker has decided to lump you in with.
Theqen thinks to himself
"Rockseeker wouldn't ask me for help for no reason. If he's assembled this team it has to be for a distinct reason"
Theqen has been sitting in the corner of the tavern with his hood up the entire time making use of the unique skill of minding his business. He observes Ollanius and Brand conversate for a time, trying to see if their behaviours indicate some sort of evil before deciding its time to make a formal their acquaintance.
Brand and Ollanius are deep in conversation when Theqen suddenly steps out from the Shadows:
"Gentlemen I think you should pay more attention to your surroundings. I've been listening in on your conversation for the past two hours.
If you think we are the only team Rockseeker has hired you were probably born yesterday...Oh and yeah I'm Theqen...
Brand raises both eyebrows in surprise and unconsciously grasping the holy symbol around his neck, Brand barely manages to remain seated at the sudden appearance and introduction of Theqen. After taking a quick breath to steady himself and hoping neither Ollanius or Theqen didn't notice, Brand greets Theqen with a warm smile and says
Theqen is it? Welcome, it's always a pleasure to have someone looking out for you. Though it must have been lonely wherever you were watching us from. If you wanted to be part of our conversation all you had to do was ask, no need to be shy.
It's my first time meeting an elf so maybe it's in your nature to be shy? Ol and I were just exchanging greetings, discussing what we knew about the job and wondering what sound the gnome made after being kicked. It was so loud in here, we couldn't hear it.
Please have my seat, I'd feel better having someone capable of sneaking up on us watching the room. All the stares I'm getting is quite disheartening. I wonder if it's my eyes.
Brand stands, offering his seat to Theqen and then goes to sit opposite him and Ol.
As Lucius strolls towards the tavern, he notices two small gnomes skittishly stumbling out of the Tavern past him. Lucius looked down upon them and turned his nose up at them remarking "Damned gnomes" as he approached the tavern. Lucius enters the Tavern examining his surroundings with his attention being drawn to the 3 men sitting together and approaches.
"Gentlemen, Lucius Blackmane, at your service" with a flick of his wrist and a slight bow in a somewhat pompous but confident manner. He waves towards the barkeep "Another beer over here good sir". He gently brushes the crumbs off the seat left from the last patron before sitting down at the table.
"I'm assuming Gundren has enticed you lot here too then?"
Brand turns to see the 4th member of their merry group join them at their table. As his eyes lock with Lucius Blackmane's, realization sets in and Brand instantly recoils, knocking over his chair, and gets to his feet in a ready stance with his flail in his hands. Plain disgust distorts Brand's features and his golden eyes glow hot.
Drow filth! You're brave to walk around without hiding your heritage. You speak as though Gundren hired you. Is that even true, Underdark spawn? What spiteful scheme has brought one of Lolth's worshipers to the surface?
It becomes starkly apparent how loud it had been in the tavern up until now, the voices of the patrons and their revelry fighting to be heard over the din. The entire tavern is silent and all eyes turn towards the group, hungry for entertainment. The barkeep disappears under the counter in less than a heartbeat. As an afterthought, a hand reaches up from behind the counter and rescues the expensive bottle of brandy he had just uncorked.
Lucius see's the expression on the Aasimar's face as he clenches his mace. He notices the room turn silent and all eyes turn to the group. He's no stranger to the staring and jeering from surface dwellers ever since he left the Underdark all that time ago. He's learnt to ignore the staring whilst always watching out for when the next blade that may fly his way.
"Scared of the dark are we?" *Lucius chuckles in jest*
He then reaches into his pocket retrieving the letter sent to him by Gundrem and shows it to the table.
Gundrem invited me for the job, done some work for him in the past. And believe me I've no agenda to assist those wretched priestesses of Lolth anymore and I have no love for the Queen of Spiders. Now are we going to cause a scene, or are we going to grab a drink? As he gestures his head towards the rest of the tavern for Brand to notice their attention on them.
"As he gestures his head towards the rest of the tavern for Brand to notice their attention on them"
Theqen smiles at the thought of two larger than life idiots getting ahead of themselves.
"Why don't we make this interesting?" Theqen murmurs to himself
Whilst Lucius' attention is drawn to the crowd Theqen Throws a tankard full to the brim with the local grog that everyone is drinking at the back of the head of Lucius.
"Brand, now I know you dont like Lucius but that was uncalled for...me personally I wouldn't take that disrespect"
Lucius hasn't moved an inch since the liquid touched the back of his head
Chairs scrape back across the floor and tables are dragged out of the way as the patrons make sure they're out of swinging distance and to create space for the entertainment to come.
Ollanius finishes tapping his pipe on the table which with the silence in the bar might as well have been a gavel calling a town meeting to order, he mutters;
”I didn’t think I’d come to the fayre to decide on the village idiot, but this could be interesting”
Lighting the pipe he sits on the sill in front of the large leaded window and peers at the unfolding drama.
With their eyes focused on the standing figures, their pipe or the rest of the room, none save Theqen know that Brand wasn't the one who threw the tankard. Aside from Brand of course; he didn't throw it.
Lucius, a not often forgiving man, upon being hit with the tankard and liquid dripping down his back is seething with anger. His fists clench and crackle with eldritch energy. He readies himself.
You self righteous half breed, holy turd! Do you dare insult me with such childish behaviour? Did you just waste good ale to insult me?
He stares immensely and narrowly at Brand waiting to react to the response.
Seeing Lucius clench his fists and the crackle of energy around them, Brand begins to lift his empty hand to cast a spell but stops himself. Having seen the letter Lucius had and then watching events unfold before him without him pushing then further, Brand looks from the angry Lucius to the amused Theqen, then at Ollanius and the rest of the room. The flames in his eyes dimming slightly as he lowers his flail, tucks it into his belt and returns to a less confrontational stance with his hands clasped in front of him.
Feeling like a fool for letting others use him for their entertainment after he let the emotions get the better of him, Brand wearily shrugs but doesn't take his eyes off Lucius. Brand rolls over Lucius's words in his mind thinking. 2 words Brand to wince inwardly. A smile touches Brand's face but doesn't reach his eyes.
Half breed....Holy Turd.....how....original. Brand practically spat the words from his mouth.
Thoughtfully Brand says Though come to think of it...A Drow who openly rebukes Lolth. Now that you don't hear everyday. You are a much hated man Blackmane. Your kin will likely flay your hide for that comment. I'm surprised you're even alive. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you but I'll concede that if you're going to openly deny Lolth, I may be mistaken. I am the bigger man after all. Allow me to buy you some of this "good ale" as an apology.
Brand glances at Theqen and resists the urge say something as no one else saw what he did.
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More than five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as the Phandelver’s Pact, by which they would share a rich mine in a wondrous cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. In addition to its mineral wealth, the mine contained great magical power. Human spellcasters allied themselves with the dwarves and gnomes to channel and bind that energy into a great forge (called the Forge of Spells), where magic items could be crafted. Times were good, and the nearby human town of Phandalin (pronounced fan-duh-lin) prospered as well. But then disaster struck when orcs swept through the North and laid waste to all in their path.
A powerful force of orcs reinforced by evil mercenary wizards attacked Wave Echo Cave to seize its riches and magic treasures. Human wizards fought alongside their dwarf and gnome allies to defend the Forge of Spells, and the ensuing spell battle destroyed much of the cavern. Few survived the cave-ins and tremors, and the location of Wave Echo Cave was lost.
For centuries, rumors of buried riches have attracted treasure seekers and opportunists to the area around Phandalin, but no one has ever succeeded in locating the lost mine. In recent years, people have resettled the area. Phandalin is now a rough-and-tumble frontier town. More important, the Rockseeker brothers — a trio of dwarves — have discovered the entrance to Wave Echo Cave, and they intend to reopen the mines.
Unfortunately for the Rockseekers, they are not the only ones interested in Wave Echo Cave. A mysterious villain known as the Black Spider controls a network of bandit gangs and goblin tribes in the area, and his agents have followed the Rockseekers to their prize. Now the Black Spider wants Wave Echo Cave for himself, and he is taking steps to make sure no one else knows where it is.
Locke, Lucius and Theqen have just arrived in the city of Neverwinter. Each of the three had a letter in their possession from their dwarven friend and patron, Gundren Rockseeker,
Pal, I've a job for you. I've reached out to some of the other boys as well. Simple work on the face of it, but I need capable hands. You're to escort a wagon to Phandalin. I've gone ahead with a warrior I know, Sildar Hallwinter, to attend to business in the town while you all follow behind with the supplies.
You'll be paid 10 gold each by the owner of Barthen’s Provisions in Phandalin when you deliver the wagon safely to his trading post. Head to the tavern and look for two lads that have rolled into town. They're on for the job as well. I've told them to meet you there. Stout man by the name of Ollanius and an...Aasimar I think they're called, by the name of Brand.
I'll see you in town. Stay crafty.
Entering the Tavern in Phandalin, Brand surveys the patrons. Some having hearty conversations without a care for who's listening and some drinking their woes away. Some eye the Aasimar cleric as though his mere presence makes their beer sour. Brand couldn't decide whether it was because he was an Aasimar or a cleric and frowned. Brand appeared to be the first to arrive so he walked over to a table and sat alone with his back to the wall awaiting word from the Gundren Rockseeker. Brand asked for a cup of tea as he sat patiently waiting for his would be companions to arrive.
There’s a small disturbance just to the left of the fire. A stout but aging soldier shouts “I said I’m not interested” and kicks one of a pair of gnomes into the side of the bar. They’ve been trying to sell their wares and clearly just ran out of luck. The landlord shouts “I’ve told you pair before” and they both scurry out. ‘Sorry Mr Ollanius, can I get you another one? On the house of course.’
Hearing the name Ollanius, Brand looks up from his cup of overly strong and bitter tea. So that's Ollanius, Brand wonders. Brand stands, puts on a welcoming smile and calls out to get Ollanius's attention.
Ollanius, I'm Brand. I have a table, come join me.
The old soldier next to the fire picks up his kit bags and sword muttering something about not kicking the gnome hard enough. Walking over he sits with Brand and extends his hand in greeting as the landlord hands him a fresh pitcher of beer.
Bloody things. Been a pain in the arse at every single Inn for the last 20 leagues. Anyway I’m Ol. It’s nice to meet a friendly face in these parts.
Not a sound was heard when Theqen entered the town of Phandalin. Not a hair disturbed, not a foot misplaced just the way Theqen likes it.
Theqen has been observing his potential team mates since they entered the town of Phandalin. Trying to ascertain what kind of Riff Raff Rockseeker has decided to lump you in with.
Theqen thinks to himself
"Rockseeker wouldn't ask me for help for no reason. If he's assembled this team it has to be for a distinct reason"
Theqen has been sitting in the corner of the tavern with his hood up the entire time making use of the unique skill of minding his business. He observes Ollanius and Brand conversate for a time, trying to see if their behaviours indicate some sort of evil before deciding its time to make a formal their acquaintance.
Brand and Ollanius are deep in conversation when Theqen suddenly steps out from the Shadows:
"Gentlemen I think you should pay more attention to your surroundings. I've been listening in on your conversation for the past two hours.
If you think we are the only team Rockseeker has hired you were probably born yesterday...Oh and yeah I'm Theqen...
...so are you going to make room or..."
Brand raises both eyebrows in surprise and unconsciously grasping the holy symbol around his neck, Brand barely manages to remain seated at the sudden appearance and introduction of Theqen. After taking a quick breath to steady himself and hoping neither Ollanius or Theqen didn't notice, Brand greets Theqen with a warm smile and says
Theqen is it? Welcome, it's always a pleasure to have someone looking out for you. Though it must have been lonely wherever you were watching us from. If you wanted to be part of our conversation all you had to do was ask, no need to be shy.
It's my first time meeting an elf so maybe it's in your nature to be shy? Ol and I were just exchanging greetings, discussing what we knew about the job and wondering what sound the gnome made after being kicked. It was so loud in here, we couldn't hear it.
Please have my seat, I'd feel better having someone capable of sneaking up on us watching the room. All the stares I'm getting is quite disheartening. I wonder if it's my eyes.
Brand stands, offering his seat to Theqen and then goes to sit opposite him and Ol.
Do you know anything about the others Theqen?
As Lucius strolls towards the tavern, he notices two small gnomes skittishly stumbling out of the Tavern past him. Lucius looked down upon them and turned his nose up at them remarking "Damned gnomes" as he approached the tavern. Lucius enters the Tavern examining his surroundings with his attention being drawn to the 3 men sitting together and approaches.
"Gentlemen, Lucius Blackmane, at your service" with a flick of his wrist and a slight bow in a somewhat pompous but confident manner. He waves towards the barkeep "Another beer over here good sir". He gently brushes the crumbs off the seat left from the last patron before sitting down at the table.
"I'm assuming Gundren has enticed you lot here too then?"
Brand turns to see the 4th member of their merry group join them at their table. As his eyes lock with Lucius Blackmane's, realization sets in and Brand instantly recoils, knocking over his chair, and gets to his feet in a ready stance with his flail in his hands. Plain disgust distorts Brand's features and his golden eyes glow hot.
Drow filth! You're brave to walk around without hiding your heritage. You speak as though Gundren hired you. Is that even true, Underdark spawn? What spiteful scheme has brought one of Lolth's worshipers to the surface?
It becomes starkly apparent how loud it had been in the tavern up until now, the voices of the patrons and their revelry fighting to be heard over the din. The entire tavern is silent and all eyes turn towards the group, hungry for entertainment. The barkeep disappears under the counter in less than a heartbeat. As an afterthought, a hand reaches up from behind the counter and rescues the expensive bottle of brandy he had just uncorked.
Lucius see's the expression on the Aasimar's face as he clenches his mace. He notices the room turn silent and all eyes turn to the group. He's no stranger to the staring and jeering from surface dwellers ever since he left the Underdark all that time ago. He's learnt to ignore the staring whilst always watching out for when the next blade that may fly his way.
"Scared of the dark are we?" *Lucius chuckles in jest*
He then reaches into his pocket retrieving the letter sent to him by Gundrem and shows it to the table.
Gundrem invited me for the job, done some work for him in the past. And believe me I've no agenda to assist those wretched priestesses of Lolth anymore and I have no love for the Queen of Spiders. Now are we going to cause a scene, or are we going to grab a drink? As he gestures his head towards the rest of the tavern for Brand to notice their attention on them.
Theqen smiles at the thought of two larger than life idiots getting ahead of themselves.
"Why don't we make this interesting?" Theqen murmurs to himself
Whilst Lucius' attention is drawn to the crowd Theqen Throws a tankard full to the brim with the local grog that everyone is drinking at the back of the head of Lucius.
"Brand, now I know you dont like Lucius but that was uncalled for...me personally I wouldn't take that disrespect"
Lucius hasn't moved an inch since the liquid touched the back of his head
Chairs scrape back across the floor and tables are dragged out of the way as the patrons make sure they're out of swinging distance and to create space for the entertainment to come.
There is an audible groan from behind the counter
Perception Check
12
Ollanius finishes tapping his pipe on the table which with the silence in the bar might as well have been a gavel calling a town meeting to order, he mutters;
”I didn’t think I’d come to the fayre to decide on the village idiot, but this could be interesting”
Lighting the pipe he sits on the sill in front of the large leaded window and peers at the unfolding drama.
21
With their eyes focused on the standing figures, their pipe or the rest of the room, none save Theqen know that Brand wasn't the one who threw the tankard. Aside from Brand of course; he didn't throw it.
Lucius, a not often forgiving man, upon being hit with the tankard and liquid dripping down his back is seething with anger. His fists clench and crackle with eldritch energy. He readies himself.
You self righteous half breed, holy turd! Do you dare insult me with such childish behaviour? Did you just waste good ale to insult me?
He stares immensely and narrowly at Brand waiting to react to the response.
Seeing Lucius clench his fists and the crackle of energy around them, Brand begins to lift his empty hand to cast a spell but stops himself. Having seen the letter Lucius had and then watching events unfold before him without him pushing then further, Brand looks from the angry Lucius to the amused Theqen, then at Ollanius and the rest of the room. The flames in his eyes dimming slightly as he lowers his flail, tucks it into his belt and returns to a less confrontational stance with his hands clasped in front of him.
Feeling like a fool for letting others use him for their entertainment after he let the emotions get the better of him, Brand wearily shrugs but doesn't take his eyes off Lucius. Brand rolls over Lucius's words in his mind thinking. 2 words Brand to wince inwardly. A smile touches Brand's face but doesn't reach his eyes.
Half breed....Holy Turd.....how....original. Brand practically spat the words from his mouth.
Thoughtfully Brand says Though come to think of it...A Drow who openly rebukes Lolth. Now that you don't hear everyday. You are a much hated man Blackmane. Your kin will likely flay your hide for that comment. I'm surprised you're even alive. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you but I'll concede that if you're going to openly deny Lolth, I may be mistaken. I am the bigger man after all. Allow me to buy you some of this "good ale" as an apology.
Brand glances at Theqen and resists the urge say something as no one else saw what he did.