As the knight kneels, Leif looks up at him. Mentally preparing for the tongue-lashing. Cyriel speaks, and Leif is incredulous. He thinks, 'How is it possible for me to be surrounded by such nice people?' The knight before him starkly contrasts the last person he interacted with in heavy armor with a red cloak. "If I can help, I will." he says.
As Joy describes her lineage, Leif listens intently. Still confused as to what "fey-touched" meant, he thinks, 'I guess that means you turn green and have a weird woody thingy on your head.' Suddenly concerned, he blurts out, "I hope a Fey doesn't touch me." Oblivious to the thought those words might be taken in offense.
Cleo notices Leif's disappointment at not finding the boy. Luckily, Aisling was there to comfort him. Having not had much experience with other people, Cleo just gives Leif a brief, reassuring smile. "What they said," she says. "He is free now. He'll be okay."
Cleo also notices the awkward way the young knight, Cyriel, greets Joy, and a wry grin appears on her face. Joy explains her heritage. The gnome doesn't know much about hexbloods. Anything to do with the fey was always a little suspect, but Joy seemed kind and brave enough. Her skin being green didn't change those facts, and so it didn't bother Cleo.
"It doesn't matter to me if you're green," says Cleo. "You helped rescue those folks, and that's enough for me."
A smile forms on Aisling’s face as Joy explains her heritage, a quiet sense of kinship stirring within her—one fey to another. She wonders if they would be so accepting if they ever learned the truth about her own nature…
...but then, when Leif remarks that he hopes no fey ever touches him, she abruptly pulls her hand from his shoulder. The words sting. She turns her face away, her expression pained.
Realizing she hasn’t spoken for some time, she suddenly blurts out,“I think your crown is beautiful, Joy. And the color of your skin as well. Green is nature’s favored hue, and it is my favorite color.”
Sensing the tension in Aisling's voice, Leifadds, "I like green too! I just don't want a thing around my head." Now, he is aware that his words may have had a negative impact. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."
Looking for an exit strategy, the young halfling, somewhat embarrassed, suggests, "Maybe we can go find that Inn now?"
Joy laughs at Leif’s remark, shaking her head as she waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, you’ll be fine, Leif. Just don’t go making any deals with shady fey, and you won’t wake up with a wooden crown on your head.” Her hazel eyes gleam with amusement, but her tone carries a flicker of truth. The fey are as unpredictable as the wind, and she had been touched by their whims before she had even taken her first breath.
Her smile softens as she continues, her voice lighter, but laced with a quiet fondness. “My parents were good people,” she says, glancing between them, as if to reassure them before they even ask. “But when my…oddities started showing up, they weren’t sure what to do. So they did what they thought was best—they entrusted me to the nearest Temple of Pelor to be raised.” She places a gentle hand over the sunburst emblem on her shield. “And I’m grateful they did. Pelor’s light was a blessing. It gave me hope, resolve, and a path forward when I might’ve wandered into darkness instead.”
She tilts her head at Leif, her grin returning. “And now, I get to go around proving that people who look a bit different can be just as good as anyone else. Thank you all for not fleeing in terror, by the way."
Leif smiles as Joy speaks to him and even laughs a little as she thanks the group for not fleeing in terror and says, "I think you've proven that people who look different can be even better than everyone else." However, his demeanor switches to serious as he asks, "Um... what does a shady fey look like?" In his mind, he pictures the drow matron who kept him as a slave for so many years, but he doesn't know if she would be considered a fey.
Joy pauses, thoughtful, before answering. “Shady fey don’t always look shady. Some are as beautiful as a sunrise, others as strange as a dream, and many can even change their appearance.” She meets Leif’s gaze, her tone gentle but firm. “It’s not how they look that makes them dangerous—it’s what they offer. If someone promises you a deal that seems too good to be true, especially in the wilds, walk away. The fey love twisting words, and they never give anything for free.”Her smile softens, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Not all of them are bad, but it’s best to be careful—just like with people."
Much to your displeasure, the men do not show you your dues despite your unmistakable nobility. At your best guess, they are, perhaps, sailors, traders, or mercenaries. They show no insignia and are dressed in everyday working clothes. Nothing fancy or stand out. On the man who gave Aisling the key, you notice a tattoo on his left arm of a black iron shackle, broken in the centre, with chains depicted wrapping around and up his arm and under his sleeve. One of the men who arrived to hurry them along is a towering, broad-shouldered man. His colleague, a gaunt, pale-skinned half-elf with a deep scar across his throat, gestures with some hand signal to the big fella as they leave.
Aisling, Cleo, Cyriel, Joy, Leif, It is dark, and some of you who went swimming are starting to feel the cold. South-east of your location is a cluster of small buildings and shacks scattered between the docks and the city wall. Paths weave all around the docklands and up to the walls, and about half a mile up the hill, east of your location is an entrance to the city.
Cleo notices Leif's disappointment at not finding the boy. Luckily, Aisling was there to comfort him. Having not had much experience with other people, Cleo just gives Leif a brief, reassuring smile. "What they said," she says. "He is free now. He'll be okay."
Leif appreciates the reassurance provided by Aisling and Cleo. He responds, "I hope you're right, Cleo. Maybe his dad is one of the others we rescued. Maybe we can rescue them... again."Leif suggests finding a way to rescue the prisoners from their chains and setting them free.
Joy pauses, thoughtful, before answering. “Shady fey don’t always look shady. Some are as beautiful as a sunrise, others as strange as a dream, and many can even change their appearance.” She meets Leif’s gaze, her tone gentle but firm. “It’s not how they look that makes them dangerous—it’s what they offer. If someone promises you a deal that seems too good to be true, especially in the wilds, walk away. The fey love twisting words, and they never give anything for free.”Her smile softens, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Not all of them are bad, but it’s best to be careful—just like with people."
"Okay, I will." Leif says while still unsure if he can trust himself to make the right decision if ever put in that position. He looks around at their surroundings. "Hey, where did... that other lady... Lusia go?" Leif asks, trying to remember her name. His shivers grow worse even while under the additional cloaks warmth.
"Huh?"Aisling scans the area for the human woman who had been helping with the cage situation but doesn't see her anywhere. "I don't see her. Maybe she went ahead to find an inn? We should do the same. I'm feeling a little better after using Joy's cloak, but we need to change our clothes—not to mention Cyriel's armor. Let's not linger."
With that, the shapeshifter follows after Cyriel and the rest.
"Okay, I will." Leif says while still unsure if he can trust himself to make the right decision if ever put in that position. He looks around at their surroundings."Hey, where did... that other lady... Lusia go?" Leif asks, trying to remember her name. His shivers grow worse even while under the additional cloaks warmth.
Perception: 12
Leif,
You think when you last saw Lusia, she was heading off up (NNE) along the rivers edge.
"Hold up a sec. I think I saw Lusia go that way. Did she say anything before taking off? Should we try to find her before heading into town?" He points quite a ways to the left of the entrance to the city. Leif looks extremely cold, but he is determined to help Lusia if he thinks she's in trouble and with how events transpired thus far, has good cause to feel she is.
Joy frowns slightly, glancing in the direction Leif pointed. “No, I don't think she did. We should at least make sure she's alright.” She looks over at Cleo, then back at the others. “Maybe Cleo and I can check it out. We’re not soaked through like the rest of you, and honestly, you all need to get inside before you freeze solid.”
The young knight seems somewhat concerned over hearing the hexblood's parents gave her away, but she seems only grateful to this and perhaps it was simply the will of the gods. "Fleeing in terror vas not something I considered, no need to zank me for zat fräulein Joy." He answers the hexblood with a light chuckle.
The young soaked and quite cold knight has barely started walking with his steed as the halfling says someone is missing. "Ze young voman vith ze laute? Is she in danger do you zink? If so I vill help you find her."He says, chivalry demanding of him to always help those in need. "Ve should hurry or I vill be caught by a cold."
"Oh!" Aislingexclaims when Leif indicates the path Lusia followed. Then she proposes, "I could enter the city and find lodgings for us all, then change quickly into dry clothes and come to the gates to wait for you."
The young woman rubs her hands together as she speaks. She has never been to a big city on her own, and the thought of speaking to innkeepers requires mustering all her courage—of which she has little, being as introverted as she is. Still, Aisling is determined to help. If the others approve, she will set off quickly, though not without first saying, "If anyone wants to come with me, they are most welcome!"
As the group is discussing what to do, Lusia comes up along the street. She is walking rather briskly and looks just a tiny bit anxious. She approaches you all. "Hey, the other travelers from the docks, right? I was still looking for an inn and could use directions. Don't suppose you've found one yet?"
Together again, this group of newfound strangers is already beginning to feel like friends. With the promise of a warm fire and a hearty meal spurring you on, you make your way up the hill toward the city gate.
More and more folk are coming and going. The air thick with the scents of salt, fish, and the heady mix of spices and goods from distant lands. Wagon wheels creak under the weight of heavy cargo. The voices of merchants, dockworkers, and caravan leaders rise in various languages and accents, shouting orders, bargaining over prices, and exchanging news from upriver and across the seas.
Before you looms the Cargo Gate, a huge stone archway set into the thick, weathered walls of the city. Black iron bands reinforce the huge and heavy oak doors that stand wide open to allow the unhindered flow of constant traffic in and out. Above the gates are weathered carvings depicting merchant ships and laden wagons. The cobbled road leading through the gate is worn smooth by decades of heavy traffic, its ruts filled with the mud and straw of the working docks. Clad in polished breastplates and armed with halberds, City Watch stand at attention, their eyes sharp and watchful. Despite the crowd, they maintain a clear path through the gate. Only occasionally do they stop travellers for questioning or inspect wagons.
As the party approaches, they are greeted not with suspicion but with the practised indifference of those who have seen thousands of travellers come and go.
Thankful for not having to run off and practice his tracking skills once more. Leif follows the group as they approach the city gates. He wants to ask the guards for directions but the chattering of his teeth give him pause and he figures these big folk will have a better idea of where to go.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The young knight is about to mount his steed and follow the girl with the lute as she reappears. "Nein, zere seems to be no taverns here on ze boardvalk fräulein." He answers the girl with a quick grin. "Please join us fräulein Lusia, ve vere just vondering vere you could have gone. And my deepest gratitude for saving my life by helping me out of ze cold vater." He continues with a sincere and graceful bow. "Now if you do not mind me asking, are you a travelling musician? Vill ve hear you play tonight?" He asks as they all start walking.
While trying to make pleasant conversation on the way up to the city gate, the young knight can't help but also take in the view of the bustling docks. He is also more and more distracted by the cold creeping into his bones and finds himself longing for a steaming hot bath to return to the living once more.
"Entschuldigung meine herren! Ve are all new to your fabulous gem of a city. Can ve humbly ask you for directions to a good inn zat can give us lodging for ze night."The young knight asks a city watchman with a polite smile, still leading his black steed and motioning to his new companions with his free hand.
"Entschuldigung meine herren! Ve are all new to your fabulous gem of a city. Can ve humbly ask you for directions to a good inn zat can give us lodging for ze night."The young knight asks a city watchman with a polite smile, still leading his black steed and motioning to his new companions with his free hand.
"Ye take this road hence through the River Quarter." He states pointing you east into the gate. "When you come to the great thoroughfare, you shall find two taverns set opposite each other. The Silver Dragon and The Black Dragon. Know this: 'tis only the Black Dragon that shall offer lodging for your steed." he continues to watch the many folk entering and leaving through the gate as he speaks. "Farewell, travellers. Watch your purse and may trouble pass you by." And he waves you through.
As the knight kneels, Leif looks up at him. Mentally preparing for the tongue-lashing. Cyriel speaks, and Leif is incredulous. He thinks, 'How is it possible for me to be surrounded by such nice people?' The knight before him starkly contrasts the last person he interacted with in heavy armor with a red cloak. "If I can help, I will." he says.
As Joy describes her lineage, Leif listens intently. Still confused as to what "fey-touched" meant, he thinks, 'I guess that means you turn green and have a weird woody thingy on your head.' Suddenly concerned, he blurts out, "I hope a Fey doesn't touch me." Oblivious to the thought those words might be taken in offense.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Cleo notices Leif's disappointment at not finding the boy. Luckily, Aisling was there to comfort him. Having not had much experience with other people, Cleo just gives Leif a brief, reassuring smile. "What they said," she says. "He is free now. He'll be okay."
Cleo also notices the awkward way the young knight, Cyriel, greets Joy, and a wry grin appears on her face. Joy explains her heritage. The gnome doesn't know much about hexbloods. Anything to do with the fey was always a little suspect, but Joy seemed kind and brave enough. Her skin being green didn't change those facts, and so it didn't bother Cleo.
"It doesn't matter to me if you're green," says Cleo. "You helped rescue those folks, and that's enough for me."
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf - Lvl. 4 Halfling Rogue (The Shattered Obelisk) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan - Lvl. 10 Half-Elf Sorcerer (Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick - Lvl. 4 Aasimar Paladin (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Selene Albion - Lvl. 12 Human Ranger (In-Person Homebrew Campaign) ♦ Phaerdra Tor'viir - Lvl. 3 Drow Wizard (Exandria Sandbox Campaign)
A smile forms on Aisling’s face as Joy explains her heritage, a quiet sense of kinship stirring within her—one fey to another. She wonders if they would be so accepting if they ever learned the truth about her own nature…
...but then, when Leif remarks that he hopes no fey ever touches him, she abruptly pulls her hand from his shoulder. The words sting. She turns her face away, her expression pained.
Realizing she hasn’t spoken for some time, she suddenly blurts out, “I think your crown is beautiful, Joy. And the color of your skin as well. Green is nature’s favored hue, and it is my favorite color.”
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren
Insight: 12
Sensing the tension in Aisling's voice, Leif adds, "I like green too! I just don't want a thing around my head." Now, he is aware that his words may have had a negative impact. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."
Looking for an exit strategy, the young halfling, somewhat embarrassed, suggests, "Maybe we can go find that Inn now?"
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Joy laughs at Leif’s remark, shaking her head as she waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, you’ll be fine, Leif. Just don’t go making any deals with shady fey, and you won’t wake up with a wooden crown on your head.” Her hazel eyes gleam with amusement, but her tone carries a flicker of truth. The fey are as unpredictable as the wind, and she had been touched by their whims before she had even taken her first breath.
Her smile softens as she continues, her voice lighter, but laced with a quiet fondness. “My parents were good people,” she says, glancing between them, as if to reassure them before they even ask. “But when my…oddities started showing up, they weren’t sure what to do. So they did what they thought was best—they entrusted me to the nearest Temple of Pelor to be raised.” She places a gentle hand over the sunburst emblem on her shield. “And I’m grateful they did. Pelor’s light was a blessing. It gave me hope, resolve, and a path forward when I might’ve wandered into darkness instead.”
She tilts her head at Leif, her grin returning. “And now, I get to go around proving that people who look a bit different can be just as good as anyone else. Thank you all for not fleeing in terror, by the way."
Leif smiles as Joy speaks to him and even laughs a little as she thanks the group for not fleeing in terror and says, "I think you've proven that people who look different can be even better than everyone else." However, his demeanor switches to serious as he asks, "Um... what does a shady fey look like?" In his mind, he pictures the drow matron who kept him as a slave for so many years, but he doesn't know if she would be considered a fey.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Joy pauses, thoughtful, before answering. “Shady fey don’t always look shady. Some are as beautiful as a sunrise, others as strange as a dream, and many can even change their appearance.” She meets Leif’s gaze, her tone gentle but firm. “It’s not how they look that makes them dangerous—it’s what they offer. If someone promises you a deal that seems too good to be true, especially in the wilds, walk away. The fey love twisting words, and they never give anything for free.” Her smile softens, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Not all of them are bad, but it’s best to be careful—just like with people."
Cyriel,
Much to your displeasure, the men do not show you your dues despite your unmistakable nobility. At your best guess, they are, perhaps, sailors, traders, or mercenaries. They show no insignia and are dressed in everyday working clothes. Nothing fancy or stand out. On the man who gave Aisling the key, you notice a tattoo on his left arm of a black iron shackle, broken in the centre, with chains depicted wrapping around and up his arm and under his sleeve. One of the men who arrived to hurry them along is a towering, broad-shouldered man. His colleague, a gaunt, pale-skinned half-elf with a deep scar across his throat, gestures with some hand signal to the big fella as they leave.
Aisling, Cleo, Cyriel, Joy, Leif,
It is dark, and some of you who went swimming are starting to feel the cold.
South-east of your location is a cluster of small buildings and shacks scattered between the docks and the city wall. Paths weave all around the docklands and up to the walls, and about half a mile up the hill, east of your location is an entrance to the city.
Leif appreciates the reassurance provided by Aisling and Cleo. He responds, "I hope you're right, Cleo. Maybe his dad is one of the others we rescued. Maybe we can rescue them... again." Leif suggests finding a way to rescue the prisoners from their chains and setting them free.
"Okay, I will." Leif says while still unsure if he can trust himself to make the right decision if ever put in that position. He looks around at their surroundings. "Hey, where did... that other lady... Lusia go?" Leif asks, trying to remember her name. His shivers grow worse even while under the additional cloaks warmth.
Perception: 12
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
"Huh?" Aisling scans the area for the human woman who had been helping with the cage situation but doesn't see her anywhere. "I don't see her. Maybe she went ahead to find an inn? We should do the same. I'm feeling a little better after using Joy's cloak, but we need to change our clothes—not to mention Cyriel's armor. Let's not linger."
With that, the shapeshifter follows after Cyriel and the rest.
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren
Leif,
You think when you last saw Lusia, she was heading off up (NNE) along the rivers edge.
"Hold up a sec. I think I saw Lusia go that way. Did she say anything before taking off? Should we try to find her before heading into town?" He points quite a ways to the left of the entrance to the city. Leif looks extremely cold, but he is determined to help Lusia if he thinks she's in trouble and with how events transpired thus far, has good cause to feel she is.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Joy frowns slightly, glancing in the direction Leif pointed. “No, I don't think she did. We should at least make sure she's alright.” She looks over at Cleo, then back at the others. “Maybe Cleo and I can check it out. We’re not soaked through like the rest of you, and honestly, you all need to get inside before you freeze solid.”
The young knight seems somewhat concerned over hearing the hexblood's parents gave her away, but she seems only grateful to this and perhaps it was simply the will of the gods. "Fleeing in terror vas not something I considered, no need to zank me for zat fräulein Joy." He answers the hexblood with a light chuckle.
The young soaked and quite cold knight has barely started walking with his steed as the halfling says someone is missing. "Ze young voman vith ze laute? Is she in danger do you zink? If so I vill help you find her." He says, chivalry demanding of him to always help those in need. "Ve should hurry or I vill be caught by a cold."
"Oh!" Aisling exclaims when Leif indicates the path Lusia followed. Then she proposes, "I could enter the city and find lodgings for us all, then change quickly into dry clothes and come to the gates to wait for you."
The young woman rubs her hands together as she speaks. She has never been to a big city on her own, and the thought of speaking to innkeepers requires mustering all her courage—of which she has little, being as introverted as she is. Still, Aisling is determined to help. If the others approve, she will set off quickly, though not without first saying, "If anyone wants to come with me, they are most welcome!"
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren
As the group is discussing what to do, Lusia comes up along the street. She is walking rather briskly and looks just a tiny bit anxious. She approaches you all. "Hey, the other travelers from the docks, right? I was still looking for an inn and could use directions. Don't suppose you've found one yet?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi ||
Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue
Together again, this group of newfound strangers is already beginning to feel like friends. With the promise of a warm fire and a hearty meal spurring you on, you make your way up the hill toward the city gate.
More and more folk are coming and going. The air thick with the scents of salt, fish, and the heady mix of spices and goods from distant lands. Wagon wheels creak under the weight of heavy cargo. The voices of merchants, dockworkers, and caravan leaders rise in various languages and accents, shouting orders, bargaining over prices, and exchanging news from upriver and across the seas.
Before you looms the Cargo Gate, a huge stone archway set into the thick, weathered walls of the city. Black iron bands reinforce the huge and heavy oak doors that stand wide open to allow the unhindered flow of constant traffic in and out. Above the gates are weathered carvings depicting merchant ships and laden wagons. The cobbled road leading through the gate is worn smooth by decades of heavy traffic, its ruts filled with the mud and straw of the working docks. Clad in polished breastplates and armed with halberds, City Watch stand at attention, their eyes sharp and watchful. Despite the crowd, they maintain a clear path through the gate. Only occasionally do they stop travellers for questioning or inspect wagons.
As the party approaches, they are greeted not with suspicion but with the practised indifference of those who have seen thousands of travellers come and go.
Thankful for not having to run off and practice his tracking skills once more. Leif follows the group as they approach the city gates. He wants to ask the guards for directions but the chattering of his teeth give him pause and he figures these big folk will have a better idea of where to go.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
The young knight is about to mount his steed and follow the girl with the lute as she reappears. "Nein, zere seems to be no taverns here on ze boardvalk fräulein." He answers the girl with a quick grin. "Please join us fräulein Lusia, ve vere just vondering vere you could have gone. And my deepest gratitude for saving my life by helping me out of ze cold vater." He continues with a sincere and graceful bow. "Now if you do not mind me asking, are you a travelling musician? Vill ve hear you play tonight?" He asks as they all start walking.
While trying to make pleasant conversation on the way up to the city gate, the young knight can't help but also take in the view of the bustling docks. He is also more and more distracted by the cold creeping into his bones and finds himself longing for a steaming hot bath to return to the living once more.
"Entschuldigung meine herren! Ve are all new to your fabulous gem of a city. Can ve humbly ask you for directions to a good inn zat can give us lodging for ze night." The young knight asks a city watchman with a polite smile, still leading his black steed and motioning to his new companions with his free hand.
(Persuasion if relevant: 19 )
"Ye take this road hence through the River Quarter." He states pointing you east into the gate. "When you come to the great thoroughfare, you shall find two taverns set opposite each other. The Silver Dragon and The Black Dragon. Know this: 'tis only the Black Dragon that shall offer lodging for your steed." he continues to watch the many folk entering and leaving through the gate as he speaks. "Farewell, travellers. Watch your purse and may trouble pass you by." And he waves you through.