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.”
Sharn sat on the ground, back against one of the ruins. Would it be right to call it a ruin if it was well alive with people inhabiting it? To him, it felt disrespectful to all the people that had set up shop there.
The dry dust he threw up with his quarterstaff helped cover some of the stench carried in the air. His gaze was lost beneath the dirt and dust. His mind tried to get lost beneath it and emulate the darkness of night, to hear the whispers that would guide him. He cried out as a bit of dirt got in his eye. As his vision adjusted Sharn's sight fell on the entrance of the ruins. There that filthy fellow inspected a group of travelers. Travelers? He thought.
He stroked his bushy mustache cleaning it off dirt and stood up adjusting his floppy hat. Without a word, he kept his eye on them and began following. Odd behavior though it was, now wasn't the time for words. It was time to see if he would be needed, or if this would be another misunderstanding. Would make it the third this week alone.
Hastos shifts uncomfortably, adjusting his cloak in a poor attempt to conceal the green dragon armor beneath. Sera had noticed it before. He wasn't the first to claim enemy gear from the battlefield, and he'd expressed no love for Takhisis. But something about the way he guarded that armor made her suspect there was more to the story.
She folds her arms and gives him a sideways glance. "I wish you had shared more of your background, Hastos… whatever you tell that guard, I can’t back you up much."
Before he can reply, the little kender gags dramatically at their exchange, making exaggerated retching noises. Sera smirks and turns to him, mischief glinting in her eyes.
"You know," she muses, "I heard this outpost has the cutest kender girl in all of Krynn."
She watches for his reaction, bluffing just to see if she can throw him off balance.
But her amusement is cut short as the dwarf guard rummages through the kender’s oversized backpack and pulls out a familiar-looking item.
"...Hey, is that not my deck of cards?" she asks, pointing at the ornately decorated playing cards the guard studies with mild curiosity. She had picked them up in Palanthas and had been missing them for a few days now—actually, ever since she and the kender last played together two nights ago.
From the corner of her eye, she catches sight of another dwarf lingering nearby. He’s rugged, dressed in worn leathers, with a floppy hat perched atop his head and a bushy mustache dominating his face. There’s something about him—maybe the way he carries himself, or the slight resemblance to the bearded guard—that makes her wonder if the two might be related.
Though there is a smile on his face there is sadness in his eyes as he responds to Sera’s taunt.
“I already know where the cutest girl on Krynn is and she ain’t in this place, she’s….”
Cut short and a genuine look of shock on his face as Sera asks about the deck of cards.
“Well you lost so badly on that last hand I figured you didn’t want this unlucky deck anymore and figures it best get it away from you before you got hurt, or worse killed, cause of the bad luck, you coulda been hit by a rock or fallen in a pit, I couldn’t let that happen!”
Sera smile and see his distress. That was not her intention. A sad look appear on the jolly Kender. She wants to bring a smile back on his face. "You right...keep the cards. Might it bring you luck.. thank you. Saving me from fallung rocks and such" She brings forth her stuff for the curious guard. Wondering where their employer might be in this ruin of a settlement.
“Really?!” Some of the light returns to his eyes as Sera offers the cards “I promise to keep the bad luck away from you. It’ll be my goal to make sure poor luck has no part of the things that may befall you”
Hastos looks skeptical has he approaches Sera and Merkas as they are in the process of being searched.
As Sera and Merkas are talking, Hastos speaks to the Dwarf currently rifling through Merkas pack, seemingly baffled at the random assortment of things he comes across.
”Sir, I intend to comply with this search, I must ask under whose authority do you perform these searches and what would you be looking for?”
Hastos remains calm and maintains a relaxed posture.
"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"
The guard smiles as you approach and holds out his hand for your pack... "Bedroll, rope, mess kit, tinderbox... rations... careful with these lad... lotta hungry people inside who might want a bite of them." The typical dwarven accent is barely perceptible as he speaks. It seems it has been colored by his travels, and he almost sounds like a local of Khur. He closes the pack and pats you down. "Looks like standard mercenary gear. You can keep your weapons on you if you keep em sheathed."
He turns to Sera when she objects about the playing cards, but shrugs as the two work it out. "And uh... I guess keep your hands to yourself while your in town."
With that, he claps you on the shoulder and smiles. "You know, I run a little shop over there. I might have something that can help with yer... uh" he gestures to your blueish face, then thinks better of it and lowers his hand. "Anyways, just remember: If you're feeling injured or sunken, visit Witchdoctor Duncan!" With that, he sends you on your way.
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.
The guard blushes at Sera's flirtatious nature, but it matches his ear-to-ear grin. "You can't smack an elf's bum, that's where they keep their head! BWAHAHAHA!"
After waiting a little too long to see if the jest landed, the guard clears his throat and continues his work. "Ooh! Carpenter's tools! You handy? There's plenty of work for you here if you want some coin. Go see Zahir if you got a minute. He can be found in the residential district, restoring the structures to house the new residents." He sees your ceremonial robes, and takes note of your holy symbol. "A healer, eh? I'm something of a healer myself. I don't use no magic, but I know how to mix a few herbs and magical ingredients together that makes something that works just as good as any potion. Come see me if you wish to buy, sell, or trade in such things. Maybe we can help each other out. And remember! If you're feeling injured or sunken, visit Witchdoctor Duncan!"
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.”
Duncan's face darkens as he notices the marks on his shoulder, shield, and splint armor. Instinctively, he steps back and puts his hand on his hilt. "Care to explain your attire, dragon-lover?" Some of the people inside start to murmur as Duncan draws attention to your dragon army armor and weaponry.
Sharn sat on the ground, back against one of the ruins. Would it be right to call it a ruin if it was well alive with people inhabiting it? To him, it felt disrespectful to all the people that had set up shop there.
The dry dust he threw up with his quarterstaff helped cover some of the stench carried in the air. His gaze was lost beneath the dirt and dust. His mind tried to get lost beneath it and emulate the darkness of night, to hear the whispers that would guide him. He cried out as a bit of dirt got in his eye. As his vision adjusted Sharn's sight fell on the entrance of the ruins. There that filthy fellow inspected a group of travelers. Travelers? He thought.
He stroked his bushy mustache cleaning it off dirt and stood up adjusting his floppy hat. Without a word, he kept his eye on them and began following. Odd behavior though it was, now wasn't the time for words. It was time to see if he would be needed, or if this would be another misunderstanding. Would make it the third this week alone.
You recognize this oddball group from your visions. And you know that these people are here to help.
Hastos looks skeptical has he approaches Sera and Merkas as they are in the process of being searched.
As Sera and Merkas are talking, Hastos speaks to the Dwarf currently rifling through Merkas pack, seemingly baffled at the random assortment of things he comes across.
”Sir, I intend to comply with this search, I must ask under whose authority do you perform these searches and what would you be looking for?”
Hastos remains calm and maintains a relaxed posture.
"As far as your concerned, I'm the kind of this damned gate. And you'll be answering my questions here and now, or I can put you in chains and you can answer them in a cell later."
Looking slightly affronted at the suggestion that he ever intentionally took anyones items that he wasn't contracted to collect, Merkas puts on a kind smile and thanks the guard
"Thank you sire, Duncan is it? Love that rhyme I sure won't be forgetting that. Don't need too much at the moment but I might stop by to check things out. And if anyoned need some of my rations they are welcome them. I can always find more."
He waves genially as he moves past while the guard starts checking over Sera's stuff."See you two on the other side, don't get lost now"
He turns quickly on his heel at the outburst towards Hastos. He stands there for a moment as he contemplates whether to step into his companions defense or not.
Hastos stands still, the breeze causing his red cloak to undulate. He regards the Dwarf with his hand on his sword for a moment with a calculating expression.
”Yeeesss…” he says slowly and in a low voice. Hastos gets down on one knee to address the Dwarf at eye level, his left arm resting over his left knee.
”The original owner did not part with it easily, or quickly…” Hastos takes a long breath in “…or painlessly.”
He brings his pack around and sets it in front of the Dwarf. “I doubt a sergeant of the dragon army would risk their life to ensure refugees made it safely this far.”
”Which brings me back to my question. These people have trusted me with their lives. As such I would appreciate knowing if there is a Magistrate, Lord or .. higher authority that you report to, or if your job here is self appointed. If you object to telling me, tell her…” he nods towards Sera “… she would likely want to know as well.”
Sera watches as Hastos stiffens under the dwarf guard’s scrutiny. The questions about his dragon officer armor are clearly getting under his skin. She understands why—there’s something deeper there, something unspoken. But then, would she wear the armor of a dead enemy?
No. The thought leaves a bitter taste. If you hate your enemy, you don’t wear their colors, don’t carry their symbols. The weight of such things is more than just metal—it carries history, blood, and meaning. Whatever Hastos’ reasons, she won’t press. What matters is the man in front of her, not the armor he wears.
She steps forward, her voice calm but firm. "He never faltered in his guarding. I vote for him."
She glances at her companions before turning to the guard, tilting her head slightly. "Trust is like a bridge—too much weight without support, and it crumbles. Too little, and no one dares cross. Give it when it’s earned, or you’ll find yourself standing alone on the other side."
Then she turns to Hastos, a playful smirk curling her lips. "Besides, I'd hate to see you take off that armor in a hurry. Could be… quite the sight. He might be nude under" She grins to Hastos and give wink to Duncan knowing he prolly not want to risk see that.. turns and bumps into Merkas before he can make more gagging sounds "Let us find...Verhanna was her name..I belived we get payment from her. Then we go settle in someplace. I buy first drinks at the tavern...I think I have a desert in my mouth I need wash away"
“You sure you don’t wanna wait and see if Hastos can talk his way out of this? He hasn’t been super quick with responses on the trip” *Merkas raises his voice to Duncan* “Look closer and you can see the marks are all marred, needed something to protect himself as we travelled, this way he’s less injured but more Sunken, he just might need to visit Duncan seen. Not sure how he survived that heat during the trip, specially with Sera raising his temperature all the time”
*Looking back up to Sera* “Verhana Savanah? Looking for an oasis more, darned trip evaporated more of my canteen than I drank. If you’re paying drinks then make sure your purse is heavy enough, Haz may need to drown some sorrows”
Looking slightly affronted at the suggestion that he ever intentionally took anyones items that he wasn't contracted to collect, Merkas puts on a kind smile and thanks the guard
"Thank you sire, Duncan is it? Love that rhyme I sure won't be forgetting that. Don't need too much at the moment but I might stop by to check things out. And if anyoned need some of my rations they are welcome them. I can always find more."
He waves genially as he moves past while the guard starts checking over Sera's stuff."See you two on the other side, don't get lost now"
He turns quickly on his heel at the outburst towards Hastos. He stands there for a moment as he contemplates whether to step into his companions defense or not.
Duncan nods politely, but he seems focused on Hastos at the moment his expression is grim, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor.
Hastos stands still, the breeze causing his red cloak to undulate. He regards the Dwarf with his hand on his sword for a moment with a calculating expression.
”Yeeesss…” he says slowly and in a low voice. Hastos gets down on one knee to address the Dwarf at eye level, his left arm resting over his left knee.
”The original owner did not part with it easily, or quickly…” Hastos takes a long breath in “…or painlessly.”
He brings his pack around and sets it in front of the Dwarf. “I doubt a sergeant of the dragon army would risk their life to ensure refugees made it safely this far.”
”Which brings me back to my question. These people have trusted me with their lives. As such I would appreciate knowing if there is a Magistrate, Lord or .. higher authority that you report to, or if your job here is self appointed. If you object to telling me, tell her…” he nods towards Sera “… she would likely want to know as well.”
He stares you eye-to-eye for several uncomfortable seconds as he considers your words. His eyes scan your battered armor. "We are but a humble trading outpost, attempting to restore this settlement for the prosperity of Khur. We have a council that presides over daily operations, and they have appointed myself as the captain of the day watch." The response sounds flat and rehearsed as he takes your bag. He takes a few steps back and begins to search your belongings, always letting his eyes dart back to that massive great axe strapped to your belt. "Hmm. Caltrops, rations, rope... waterskin..." he pops the cork on the waterskin and sniffs it, suspiciously. Then he puts everything back in your pack. Satisfied, he puts your things back into your pack and cinches it. "Seems normal enough. Tussle with a Dragon Army sergeant, eh? And you're alive to tell the tale. That means your tough, or a good liar. How'd you end up travelling with this group, then?"
Sera watches as Hastos stiffens under the dwarf guard’s scrutiny. The questions about his dragon officer armor are clearly getting under his skin. She understands why—there’s something deeper there, something unspoken. But then, would she wear the armor of a dead enemy?
No. The thought leaves a bitter taste. If you hate your enemy, you don’t wear their colors, don’t carry their symbols. The weight of such things is more than just metal—it carries history, blood, and meaning. Whatever Hastos’ reasons, she won’t press. What matters is the man in front of her, not the armor he wears.
She steps forward, her voice calm but firm. "He never faltered in his guarding. I vote for him."
She glances at her companions before turning to the guard, tilting her head slightly. "Trust is like a bridge—too much weight without support, and it crumbles. Too little, and no one dares cross. Give it when it’s earned, or you’ll find yourself standing alone on the other side."
Then she turns to Hastos, a playful smirk curling her lips. "Besides, I'd hate to see you take off that armor in a hurry. Could be… quite the sight. He might be nude under" She grins to Hastos and give wink to Duncan knowing he prolly not want to risk see that.. turns and bumps into Merkas before he can make more gagging sounds "Let us find...Verhanna was her name..I belived we get payment from her. Then we go settle in someplace. I buy first drinks at the tavern...I think I have a desert in my mouth I need wash away"
“You sure you don’t wanna wait and see if Hastos can talk his way out of this? He hasn’t been super quick with responses on the trip” *Merkas raises his voice to Duncan* “Look closer and you can see the marks are all marred, needed something to protect himself as we travelled, this way he’s less injured but more Sunken, he just might need to visit Duncan seen. Not sure how he survived that heat during the trip, specially with Sera raising his temperature all the time”
*Looking back up to Sera* “Verhana Savanah? Looking for an oasis more, darned trip evaporated more of my canteen than I drank. If you’re paying drinks then make sure your purse is heavy enough, Haz may need to drown some sorrows”
Duncan seems to start wavering. Though his hand remains rested on his hilt, he looks both to Merkas and Sera. "Fair point..." he doesn't move from his spot though, and you get the impression that he's still deciding if Hastos is allowed to pass.
Hrothbert_Neruca and Larskolstad please roll Persuasion checks with Advantage (Duncan already trusts and likes you).
Sharn reached the group, since they were still stopped by Duncan. Perhaps this time he would manage a proper introduction. After all, they looked about right, and the stars would never lead him astray.
Sharn rested his considerable weight on his staff and stroked his mustache.
Persuasion result: 15 (To convince Duncan to let them through)
"Duncan, let the lad through. I'll vouch for him personally, and keep an eye on them. Not that they will need an eye, but they look like the type that will need a hand, and I will from them. Perhaps we all will need a hand from them in due time."
Duncan considers everyone's words, pursing his lips and stroking his dirty beard as crumbs and dust sprinkle down onto his boots. "Ok, fine. Apologies for the caution, stranger. Dark times and all. If it's Verhanna you need, you'll find her towards the back of town, at headquarters. She's on the council, so she's busy a lot. But she manages Santekh's finances, which includes paying out bounties. Mind your manners around her. She's been on edge lately. You'll know her by the ring on her hand. And if you want to get those symbols polished off, talk to Kasi, the fletcher. She mostly does bows and arrows, but knows a bit about weapon and armor repair. She'll be in the shack in just outside the market square. There's a sign on it with a painting of a bow and arrow on it."
In his fluster, he forgets to mention his slogan, and moves on to checking the rest of the arrivals. Now inside town, you can really see, and smell, the despair. The scent of urine, disease, and filth fills the air like a thick, invisible fog, and the high walls prevent a clean enough draft to blow it away. The first structures you see are the market square buildings, which is mostly unoccupied. Empty shacks and stands sit in a neat semi-circle, and you get the impression that they're positioned there more for strategic defense than to market wares. The shops that seem to be occupied are Witchdoctor Duncan's Apothecary (closed currently), Dana's Dancing Lights, and the little shack with the bow and arrow sign hanging over the door. Beyond the marketplace, the refugees are starting to settle in. The residents who have access to healing magic or alchemical materials are doing their best to provide aid to the injured, sick, exhausted, and starving, but they seem overwhelmed by the crowds. Beyond that, you find The Laughing Dwarf Dance Hall, and past that, you can see the headquarter buildings, which are mostly secure and finished with a patchwork of stone, clay, and wood. Aside from that, you can see Hachakee farmers attempting in vain to keep their dehydrated crops alive while emaciated cattle, chickens, and pigs cry out for food and water.
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 Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
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?”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
"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.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
*Gagging sounds can be heard from the direction of the dwarf guard*
“Eww! Mom, Dad I’m old enough to know how I was brought into this world but do you have to be doing that in public?”
*With a wide grin and a wink he chuckles to himself and turns back to the guard*
Loyalty Begets Honour
Sharn sat on the ground, back against one of the ruins. Would it be right to call it a ruin if it was well alive with people inhabiting it? To him, it felt disrespectful to all the people that had set up shop there.
The dry dust he threw up with his quarterstaff helped cover some of the stench carried in the air. His gaze was lost beneath the dirt and dust. His mind tried to get lost beneath it and emulate the darkness of night, to hear the whispers that would guide him. He cried out as a bit of dirt got in his eye. As his vision adjusted Sharn's sight fell on the entrance of the ruins. There that filthy fellow inspected a group of travelers. Travelers? He thought.
He stroked his bushy mustache cleaning it off dirt and stood up adjusting his floppy hat. Without a word, he kept his eye on them and began following. Odd behavior though it was, now wasn't the time for words. It was time to see if he would be needed, or if this would be another misunderstanding. Would make it the third this week alone.
Hastos shifts uncomfortably, adjusting his cloak in a poor attempt to conceal the green dragon armor beneath. Sera had noticed it before. He wasn't the first to claim enemy gear from the battlefield, and he'd expressed no love for Takhisis. But something about the way he guarded that armor made her suspect there was more to the story.
She folds her arms and gives him a sideways glance. "I wish you had shared more of your background, Hastos… whatever you tell that guard, I can’t back you up much."
Before he can reply, the little kender gags dramatically at their exchange, making exaggerated retching noises. Sera smirks and turns to him, mischief glinting in her eyes.
"You know," she muses, "I heard this outpost has the cutest kender girl in all of Krynn."
She watches for his reaction, bluffing just to see if she can throw him off balance.
But her amusement is cut short as the dwarf guard rummages through the kender’s oversized backpack and pulls out a familiar-looking item.
"...Hey, is that not my deck of cards?" she asks, pointing at the ornately decorated playing cards the guard studies with mild curiosity. She had picked them up in Palanthas and had been missing them for a few days now—actually, ever since she and the kender last played together two nights ago.
From the corner of her eye, she catches sight of another dwarf lingering nearby. He’s rugged, dressed in worn leathers, with a floppy hat perched atop his head and a bushy mustache dominating his face. There’s something about him—maybe the way he carries himself, or the slight resemblance to the bearded guard—that makes her wonder if the two might be related.
Though there is a smile on his face there is sadness in his eyes as he responds to Sera’s taunt.
“I already know where the cutest girl on Krynn is and she ain’t in this place, she’s….”
Cut short and a genuine look of shock on his face as Sera asks about the deck of cards.
“Well you lost so badly on that last hand I figured you didn’t want this unlucky deck anymore and figures it best get it away from you before you got hurt, or worse killed, cause of the bad luck, you coulda been hit by a rock or fallen in a pit, I couldn’t let that happen!”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Sera smile and see his distress. That was not her intention. A sad look appear on the jolly Kender. She wants to bring a smile back on his face. "You right...keep the cards. Might it bring you luck.. thank you. Saving me from fallung rocks and such" She brings forth her stuff for the curious guard. Wondering where their employer might be in this ruin of a settlement.
“Really?!” Some of the light returns to his eyes as Sera offers the cards “I promise to keep the bad luck away from you. It’ll be my goal to make sure poor luck has no part of the things that may befall you”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Hastos looks skeptical has he approaches Sera and Merkas as they are in the process of being searched.
As Sera and Merkas are talking, Hastos speaks to the Dwarf currently rifling through Merkas pack, seemingly baffled at the random assortment of things he comes across.
”Sir, I intend to comply with this search, I must ask under whose authority do you perform these searches and what would you be looking for?”
Hastos remains calm and maintains a relaxed posture.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
The guard smiles as you approach and holds out his hand for your pack... "Bedroll, rope, mess kit, tinderbox... rations... careful with these lad... lotta hungry people inside who might want a bite of them." The typical dwarven accent is barely perceptible as he speaks. It seems it has been colored by his travels, and he almost sounds like a local of Khur. He closes the pack and pats you down. "Looks like standard mercenary gear. You can keep your weapons on you if you keep em sheathed."
He turns to Sera when she objects about the playing cards, but shrugs as the two work it out. "And uh... I guess keep your hands to yourself while your in town."
With that, he claps you on the shoulder and smiles. "You know, I run a little shop over there. I might have something that can help with yer... uh" he gestures to your blueish face, then thinks better of it and lowers his hand. "Anyways, just remember: If you're feeling injured or sunken, visit Witchdoctor Duncan!" With that, he sends you on your way.
The guard blushes at Sera's flirtatious nature, but it matches his ear-to-ear grin. "You can't smack an elf's bum, that's where they keep their head! BWAHAHAHA!"
After waiting a little too long to see if the jest landed, the guard clears his throat and continues his work. "Ooh! Carpenter's tools! You handy? There's plenty of work for you here if you want some coin. Go see Zahir if you got a minute. He can be found in the residential district, restoring the structures to house the new residents." He sees your ceremonial robes, and takes note of your holy symbol. "A healer, eh? I'm something of a healer myself. I don't use no magic, but I know how to mix a few herbs and magical ingredients together that makes something that works just as good as any potion. Come see me if you wish to buy, sell, or trade in such things. Maybe we can help each other out. And remember! If you're feeling injured or sunken, visit Witchdoctor Duncan!"
Duncan's face darkens as he notices the marks on his shoulder, shield, and splint armor. Instinctively, he steps back and puts his hand on his hilt. "Care to explain your attire, dragon-lover?" Some of the people inside start to murmur as Duncan draws attention to your dragon army armor and weaponry.
You recognize this oddball group from your visions. And you know that these people are here to help.
"As far as your concerned, I'm the kind of this damned gate. And you'll be answering my questions here and now, or I can put you in chains and you can answer them in a cell later."
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Looking slightly affronted at the suggestion that he ever intentionally took anyones items that he wasn't contracted to collect, Merkas puts on a kind smile and thanks the guard
"Thank you sire, Duncan is it? Love that rhyme I sure won't be forgetting that. Don't need too much at the moment but I might stop by to check things out. And if anyoned need some of my rations they are welcome them. I can always find more."
He waves genially as he moves past while the guard starts checking over Sera's stuff. "See you two on the other side, don't get lost now"
He turns quickly on his heel at the outburst towards Hastos. He stands there for a moment as he contemplates whether to step into his companions defense or not.
Loyalty Begets Honour
Hastos stands still, the breeze causing his red cloak to undulate. He regards the Dwarf with his hand on his sword for a moment with a calculating expression.
”Yeeesss…” he says slowly and in a low voice. Hastos gets down on one knee to address the Dwarf at eye level, his left arm resting over his left knee.
”The original owner did not part with it easily, or quickly…” Hastos takes a long breath in “…or painlessly.”
He brings his pack around and sets it in front of the Dwarf. “I doubt a sergeant of the dragon army would risk their life to ensure refugees made it safely this far.”
”Which brings me back to my question. These people have trusted me with their lives. As such I would appreciate knowing if there is a Magistrate, Lord or .. higher authority that you report to, or if your job here is self appointed. If you object to telling me, tell her…” he nods towards Sera “… she would likely want to know as well.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Sera watches as Hastos stiffens under the dwarf guard’s scrutiny. The questions about his dragon officer armor are clearly getting under his skin. She understands why—there’s something deeper there, something unspoken. But then, would she wear the armor of a dead enemy?
No. The thought leaves a bitter taste. If you hate your enemy, you don’t wear their colors, don’t carry their symbols. The weight of such things is more than just metal—it carries history, blood, and meaning. Whatever Hastos’ reasons, she won’t press. What matters is the man in front of her, not the armor he wears.
She steps forward, her voice calm but firm. "He never faltered in his guarding. I vote for him."
She glances at her companions before turning to the guard, tilting her head slightly. "Trust is like a bridge—too much weight without support, and it crumbles. Too little, and no one dares cross. Give it when it’s earned, or you’ll find yourself standing alone on the other side."
Then she turns to Hastos, a playful smirk curling her lips. "Besides, I'd hate to see you take off that armor in a hurry. Could be… quite the sight. He might be nude under" She grins to Hastos and give wink to Duncan knowing he prolly not want to risk see that.. turns and bumps into Merkas before he can make more gagging sounds "Let us find...Verhanna was her name..I belived we get payment from her. Then we go settle in someplace. I buy first drinks at the tavern...I think I have a desert in my mouth I need wash away"
“You sure you don’t wanna wait and see if Hastos can talk his way out of this? He hasn’t been super quick with responses on the trip” *Merkas raises his voice to Duncan* “Look closer and you can see the marks are all marred, needed something to protect himself as we travelled, this way he’s less injured but more Sunken, he just might need to visit Duncan seen. Not sure how he survived that heat during the trip, specially with Sera raising his temperature all the time”
*Looking back up to Sera* “Verhana Savanah? Looking for an oasis more, darned trip evaporated more of my canteen than I drank. If you’re paying drinks then make sure your purse is heavy enough, Haz may need to drown some sorrows”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Duncan nods politely, but he seems focused on Hastos at the moment his expression is grim, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor.
He stares you eye-to-eye for several uncomfortable seconds as he considers your words. His eyes scan your battered armor. "We are but a humble trading outpost, attempting to restore this settlement for the prosperity of Khur. We have a council that presides over daily operations, and they have appointed myself as the captain of the day watch." The response sounds flat and rehearsed as he takes your bag. He takes a few steps back and begins to search your belongings, always letting his eyes dart back to that massive great axe strapped to your belt. "Hmm. Caltrops, rations, rope... waterskin..." he pops the cork on the waterskin and sniffs it, suspiciously. Then he puts everything back in your pack. Satisfied, he puts your things back into your pack and cinches it. "Seems normal enough. Tussle with a Dragon Army sergeant, eh? And you're alive to tell the tale. That means your tough, or a good liar. How'd you end up travelling with this group, then?"
Duncan seems to start wavering. Though his hand remains rested on his hilt, he looks both to Merkas and Sera. "Fair point..." he doesn't move from his spot though, and you get the impression that he's still deciding if Hastos is allowed to pass.
Hrothbert_Neruca and Larskolstad please roll Persuasion checks with Advantage (Duncan already trusts and likes you).
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Sharn reached the group, since they were still stopped by Duncan. Perhaps this time he would manage a proper introduction. After all, they looked about right, and the stars would never lead him astray.
Sharn rested his considerable weight on his staff and stroked his mustache.
Persuasion result: 15 (To convince Duncan to let them through)
"Duncan, let the lad through. I'll vouch for him personally, and keep an eye on them. Not that they will need an eye, but they look like the type that will need a hand, and I will from them. Perhaps we all will need a hand from them in due time."
Duncan considers everyone's words, pursing his lips and stroking his dirty beard as crumbs and dust sprinkle down onto his boots. "Ok, fine. Apologies for the caution, stranger. Dark times and all. If it's Verhanna you need, you'll find her towards the back of town, at headquarters. She's on the council, so she's busy a lot. But she manages Santekh's finances, which includes paying out bounties. Mind your manners around her. She's been on edge lately. You'll know her by the ring on her hand. And if you want to get those symbols polished off, talk to Kasi, the fletcher. She mostly does bows and arrows, but knows a bit about weapon and armor repair. She'll be in the shack in just outside the market square. There's a sign on it with a painting of a bow and arrow on it."
In his fluster, he forgets to mention his slogan, and moves on to checking the rest of the arrivals. Now inside town, you can really see, and smell, the despair. The scent of urine, disease, and filth fills the air like a thick, invisible fog, and the high walls prevent a clean enough draft to blow it away. The first structures you see are the market square buildings, which is mostly unoccupied. Empty shacks and stands sit in a neat semi-circle, and you get the impression that they're positioned there more for strategic defense than to market wares. The shops that seem to be occupied are Witchdoctor Duncan's Apothecary (closed currently), Dana's Dancing Lights, and the little shack with the bow and arrow sign hanging over the door. Beyond the marketplace, the refugees are starting to settle in. The residents who have access to healing magic or alchemical materials are doing their best to provide aid to the injured, sick, exhausted, and starving, but they seem overwhelmed by the crowds. Beyond that, you find The Laughing Dwarf Dance Hall, and past that, you can see the headquarter buildings, which are mostly secure and finished with a patchwork of stone, clay, and wood. Aside from that, you can see Hachakee farmers attempting in vain to keep their dehydrated crops alive while emaciated cattle, chickens, and pigs cry out for food and water.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin