Mere years after the War of the Lance, 351 AC, the people of Khur are seeking shelter from, or alliances in, the struggle against The Green Dragon Army. But safe lands are few and shrinking in numbers each year. A dust-shrouded trail leads exhausted refugees north along the foothills of the Khalkist Mountains towards Ak-Tubal, a small town said to still enjoy some level of peace and prosperity where food, water, housing, horses, and work can be found. Your party has been hired as part of a mercenary band to escort the refugees safely as far as an old ruin along the path commonly known as Santekh where the refugees would rest and refresh before continuing the next leg of their journey.
During the course of the march, the mercenary troupe comes to believe that you can be trusted and confides in your party that they are more than just sell-swords. While this particular trip is a peaceful one to escort refugees, they also run a supply line to the Santekh ruins, which is being established as a chokehold against The Green Dragon Army's expansion. You also discover that the people you are travelling with are mostly members of the Hachakee Tribe, who have been resisting the advancement of the Green Dragon Army since the beginning.
It's a scorching hot afternoon when you arrive at the Santekh ruins. From the entrance, the place bares a resemblance to a trading outpost. There are merchant tents and booths stretched out along the sides of the main road, but most of them seem to be empty and unoccupied. The air is thick, heavy with sweat and mending wounds, though all eyes seem to be on you and on the newly escorted refugees. Not much was said about the outpost while you were marching with the refugees, except that it's really a rebel base that is still in the making. Viewing the ruins from that perspective, you get the impression that weapons, traps, armor and shields are hiding in plain sight. You may roll a Perception Check to attempt to locate them.
It appears that your next step is to be patted down by the guard. a filthy looking dwarf with Hachakee markings and jewelry. If you wish, you may roll a check to avoid the guard, or to prevent him from finding anything suspicious you don't want found. Otherwise, feel free to step right up to be searched.
"Hey Hastos, stop talking over my head" A blue skinned Kender says as he walks between the two "Least you can do is keep the line moving, Whole darn caravan finally slowed down enough for my short legs catch up and you two go and stop right at the front door" Approaching the dwarf he smiles broadly and presents a backpack that looks twice his size "Price of entry is a pat down, not so bad been places that I had ta pay more than that"
She arrives at the desert outpost of Santekh—a place more rubble than standing buildings, thick with dust and the stench of desperation. Refugees fleeing the advancing Green Dragon Army of Takhisis crowd the streets, their fear evident in every hurried step and wary glance. Weapons and traps are scattered about, positioned for quick access should the worst come.
Near the gate, a filthy dwarf guard eyes the newcomers, clearly intent on searching everyone. Sera pauses for a moment, drawing a deep breath as her fingers close around the silver triangle hanging from her neck—her mother’s holy symbol of Paladine.
"Thank you for guiding me this far, Paladine," she murmurs under her breath. "Keep my path true."
Hastos, the handsome elf she’s been casually flirting with, leans in and murmurs a suggestion. Should they try to slip past?
Sera shakes her head. "No... it's his job. People are afraid of Dragonarmy infiltrators—not that this search will do much against that. But it's the rule here, and we should make a good first impression, don't you think?"
She offers a small smile, first to Hastos, then to the eager little kender already stepping forward, cheerfully presenting his oversized backpack for inspection. Sera wonders if anything of hers will turn up in the search. Kenders have a habit of “borrowing” things, but she doesn’t mind. Not really.
As she steps forward, she glances at Hastos with a smirk. "Besides, if we tried sneaking past, I’d hate to see you ruin that pretty face getting caught or getting spanked on that nice bum"
Her fingers brush against the hilt of her longsword—the only thing left of her father. A Solamnic knight’s blade, a relic of a life stolen from her. That, at least, was one item she would not forgive being borrowed.
Hastos watches the Kinder stroll by as if they hadn’t just been traversing some of the most inhospitable terrain he’s had the misfortune of crossing. He starts to caution him, but realizes these people are probably just happy to be anywhere that’s a semblance of civility.
Hastos side-eyes Sera as she mentions making a good first impression, then has his thoughts completely derailed as she mentions his bottom. “I have a nice bottom?” He thinks to himself “…. Come to think of it, she’s got a pretty nice -“ before his discipline slaps him back the present. He can’t help but emit a snort of laughter. She’s always catching him off-guard like that. He affords one last thought, “She puts me at ease a little *too* easily.”
He remembers the heavily marred insignia emblazoned across his chest plate. An emblem that now strikes fear and resentment into the hearts of those that notice it. A reminder of another life. A life he plans to atone for. This thought sobers him instantly.
As he unconsciously covers his chest with his arm he says “Yea, it’s first impressions I worry about.”
Mere years after the War of the Lance, 351 AC, the people of Khur are seeking shelter from, or alliances in, the struggle against The Green Dragon Army. But safe lands are few and shrinking in numbers each year. A dust-shrouded trail leads exhausted refugees north along the foothills of the Khalkist Mountains towards Ak-Tubal, a small town said to still enjoy some level of peace and prosperity where food, water, housing, horses, and work can be found. Your party has been hired as part of a mercenary band to escort the refugees safely as far as an old ruin along the path commonly known as Santekh where
the refugees would rest and refresh before continuing the next leg of their journey.
During the course of the march, the mercenary troupe comes to believe that you can be trusted and confides in your party that they are more than just sell-swords. While this particular trip is a peaceful one to escort refugees, they also run a supply line to the Santekh ruins, which is being established as a chokehold against The Green Dragon Army's expansion. You also discover that the people you are travelling with are mostly members of the Hachakee Tribe, who have been resisting the advancement of the Green Dragon Army since the beginning.
It's a scorching hot afternoon when you arrive at the Santekh ruins. From the entrance, the place bares a resemblance to a trading outpost. There are merchant tents and booths stretched out along the sides of the main road, but most of them seem to be empty and unoccupied. The air is thick, heavy with sweat and mending wounds, though all eyes seem to be on you and on the newly escorted refugees. Not much was said about the outpost while you were marching with the refugees, except that it's really a rebel base that is still in the making. Viewing the ruins from that perspective, you get the impression that weapons, traps, armor and shields are hiding in plain sight. You may roll a Perception Check to attempt to locate them.
It appears that your next step is to be patted down by the guard. a filthy looking dwarf with Hachakee markings and jewelry. If you wish, you may roll a check to avoid the guard, or to prevent him from finding anything suspicious you don't want found. Otherwise, feel free to step right up to be searched.
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
Hastos leans over and speaks to Sera in a low tone, “What do you think, go through the search, or try to get around him?”
"Hey Hastos, stop talking over my head" A blue skinned Kender says as he walks between the two "Least you can do is keep the line moving, Whole darn caravan finally slowed down enough for my short legs catch up and you two go and stop right at the front door" Approaching the dwarf he smiles broadly and presents a backpack that looks twice his size "Price of entry is a pat down, not so bad been places that I had ta pay more than that"
Loyalty Begets Honour
.
She arrives at the desert outpost of Santekh—a place more rubble than standing buildings, thick with dust and the stench of desperation. Refugees fleeing the advancing Green Dragon Army of Takhisis crowd the streets, their fear evident in every hurried step and wary glance. Weapons and traps are scattered about, positioned for quick access should the worst come.
Near the gate, a filthy dwarf guard eyes the newcomers, clearly intent on searching everyone. Sera pauses for a moment, drawing a deep breath as her fingers close around the silver triangle hanging from her neck—her mother’s holy symbol of Paladine.
"Thank you for guiding me this far, Paladine," she murmurs under her breath. "Keep my path true."
Hastos, the handsome elf she’s been casually flirting with, leans in and murmurs a suggestion. Should they try to slip past?
Sera shakes her head. "No... it's his job. People are afraid of Dragonarmy infiltrators—not that this search will do much against that. But it's the rule here, and we should make a good first impression, don't you think?"
She offers a small smile, first to Hastos, then to the eager little kender already stepping forward, cheerfully presenting his oversized backpack for inspection. Sera wonders if anything of hers will turn up in the search. Kenders have a habit of “borrowing” things, but she doesn’t mind. Not really.
As she steps forward, she glances at Hastos with a smirk. "Besides, if we tried sneaking past, I’d hate to see you ruin that pretty face getting caught or getting spanked on that nice bum"
Her fingers brush against the hilt of her longsword—the only thing left of her father. A Solamnic knight’s blade, a relic of a life stolen from her. That, at least, was one item she would not forgive being borrowed.
Hastos watches the Kinder stroll by as if they hadn’t just been traversing some of the most inhospitable terrain he’s had the misfortune of crossing. He starts to caution him, but realizes these people are probably just happy to be anywhere that’s a semblance of civility.
Hastos side-eyes Sera as she mentions making a good first impression, then has his thoughts completely derailed as she mentions his bottom. “I have a nice bottom?” He thinks to himself “…. Come to think of it, she’s got a pretty nice -“ before his discipline slaps him back the present. He can’t help but emit a snort of laughter. She’s always catching him off-guard like that. He affords one last thought, “She puts me at ease a little *too* easily.”
He remembers the heavily marred insignia emblazoned across his chest plate. An emblem that now strikes fear and resentment into the hearts of those that notice it. A reminder of another life. A life he plans to atone for. This thought sobers him instantly.
As he unconsciously covers his chest with his arm he says “Yea, it’s first impressions I worry about.”