'Wazzock turns and puts a finger over pursed lips,' "The children of Semuanya... meaning the crocodiles. Defiled, meaning murdered, butchered really... And yes... we seek your council to put a stop to the murders. You say you know of them, but is there any information that you can provide to aid our quest?"
Altani keeps one eye on the tent as she moves towards the fire, positioning herself so that she is facing the tent over the fire. As she does so she instinctively places a hand on the acorn carving that hangs from her neck, letting her will flow through the relic (using Divine Sense - I assume I’m within 60 feet of the tent?).
As she gets to the campfire, Altani turns to gaze at the shaman."My people, the Windspeaker Centaur of the Leavenwild Plans, follow the traditions of the shamans. They call to the Munkh Khukh Tengr or the Eternal Blue Sky, asking it to guide our people. I respect the ways of the shaman, and the lizardpeople" she says as she bows her head, then looks back up at the lizardwoman.
"Great shaman of the lizardpeoples, I am Altani of the Windspeaker. It is as Wazzock and Mazin say. We have been sent to you by your brother Thurk, wishing to aid your people and bring an end to the injustice that is happening in your lands and the killing of your people. I hope that you can help us, guide us in the right direction so that we may complete this quest. Do you know anything about the killings or even if anything has taken up residence in the ruins near here?"
[skill]Persuasion[/skill] 11
'The lizardwoman watches Altani's cautious circle and examination of her home with apparent mirth, but her face takes on an almost solemn cast as she responds to the centaur's traditional greeting and respectful inquiry,'
"Greetingss child of the Eternal Blue Sky. You are welcome here among the grasss, mud and waterss of the Marsh Father. Ever have your people been honourable free soulss of the Worldheart and no foess of the Southmarsh Peopless. A pleasure it iss to have you and your huntmatess at my fire, Altani of the Great Plainss. I am called Swampmother, Streamsister and Mudgazer, among other things, by my own people and, yess, I am called a shaman by those who visit us or do not know our wayss.
As you have given my your true name, so shall you have mine. I wass first named Meerkthistle many moonss ago by my brood mother, and yess, hatched I wass in the same warren ass that young bull Thurk, though hiss first scenting wass yearss after my own and he now toilss in a place that iss no true home to me and mine.
Foul killingss, yess. And my people these are... or were. A young murkwalker I wass when Exbrin and Thurk went on their first hunt together and these old handss helped sweet, timid Mirinah from the shell not twenty flood cycless ago. Barluk I once cured of deadly Redworm Fever and Koothu used to bring me fresh fish once every moonwash. Yess, I knew these folk. They once lived out here amidst Semuanya'ss bounty... but then later chose the wayss of the Kingdom, the wayss of wallss, of streetss, of coinss... of alien godss. And so the great Marsh Father turned hiss gaze from them. But still, they did not deserve such foul fatess.
What else do I know? I know that these killingss were not the work of Semuanya or hiss children. Nor the work of the other wild beastss of these landss. Ass I would have told my younger warren brother were he not too ashamed to come to me himself.
Ruinss... What do you know of ruinss, field runner? They are many and they are everywhere throughout these soft, wet landss. Some are ancient. Many are deadly. Most are hidden. All are occupied... by dark memoriess if nothing else. Were these townsfolk killed by ancient secretss or dark memoriess? No, thiss one thinkss not."
[OOC] Altani may read the spoiler below:
'Through the grace of Mielikki you detect no beings of an angelic or diabolical nature, nor the distinctive grave stench of the undead, within the immediate area around the hut or clearing. As you reach out with your divinely granted senses, however, you do catch a faint wafting of a dark pall emnating from the top of the hill - an emnation that somehow feels like cold bones and putrid flesh to you.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Alwin just shyly moves to the area the woman directed for them to sit and does so "It's a plea...sure to meet you."
He just begins to look around as Atlani talks and seems to not only survey how his companions interact with her, but her with them.
'Meerkthistle turns away from her discussion with the centaur, goliath and orc to study Alwin for a moment with a look of open curiosity, as if he were an oddity that the strange old lizardwoman was unfamiliar with. Cocking her head to one side as a large rainbow hued dragonfly *buzzes* by, the hide and necklace clad mystic replies,'
"Hmm... iss it, elf? Regardlesss, you are the first of your kind to say so, though it hass been many moonss since I have spoken with one of your brethren. Masterss of the Great Forest, hmm? Yess, loverss of treess, secretss and power.
Primitive, your people consider mine, hmm? Yess, it iss so. No use denying it, though you have an honest enough smell about you. And maybe we are and ass such should stay."
'Kestrell, still standing at the edge of the clearing, thinks to himself:' "Defiled meat by the children of Semuanya? What is she talking about?"
'The thin and much weathered lizardwoman's piercing brown eyes move from the half-elven swordsman to the silent Kestrell standing at the edge of the clearing, before the puzzling and cryptic elder mutters something quietly under her breath as she pulls another handful of old roots and dried leaves from her pouch to toss on the aromatic fire.'
[OOC] Everyone can make a perception check to hear what she says, with Kestrell having a DC of 20 and those PCs around the fire having a DC of 15:
'In pairss they came, in pairss they come. Hmm, never bringing pearss or other wholesome fruitss though, no. Alwayss they bring sharp tonguess and seeking eyess. Hmm, yess...'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
'Wazzock turns and puts a finger over pursed lips,' "The children of Semuanya... meaning the crocodiles. Defiled, meaning murdered, butchered really... And yes... we seek your council to put a stop to the murders. You say you know of them, but is there any information that you can provide to aid our quest?"
'Meerkthistle turns back to Wazzock with a long crooked smile and a lively glint in her eyes that is only accentuated by her deep scarring and gimpy stare. As the greeny-gold skinned woman suddenly begins to nod her head enthusiastically, she says excitedly,'
"Ohh, yess, yess, YESS. You are a wise one, daughter of the One Eye. Wise enough to turn away from eonss of bloodshed, ass your ancestorss were. Yess, I know of he whose mark you wear and of those from whom you are descended. Tuskss may rend, but tuskss may also reason. Hmm, yess. A curiouss line it iss, drawn in both blood and ink. Curiouss indeed.
Information? Of course, of course. Why else would young bloodss come to speak to old Meerkthistle, hmm. You have but to ask the right questionss... AND tell me a brief story.Yess, a story, one story each! A fair trade for a taste of my hard earned wisdom, yess? Yess! Hehehe..."
[OOC] As Meerkthistle glances around expectantly at each of you, it becomes clear that she will say no more until she has received her price.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Altani's eyes narrow as Meerkthistle whispers to Kestrell. "The Yuanti...", she comments but stops as Meerkthistle starts to talk to Wazzock.
As Meerkthistle finishes asking for everybody to tell her a story, Altani nodes and reaches around behind her, pulling a lyre out from a padded pouch under her shield. She strums the instrument, and clears her throat, her fingers working over the strings as she starts to tell her tale.
"I, Meerkthistle, will tell you a tale about the beginning of tales as my people know it.
Many years ago, a terrible plague sweep across the Leavenwild Plains and most of the North Vast, killing hundreds, no thousands of Centaur. The plague was so terrible in its curse, that bravery left my people and those who had the strength rode away to save their own lives, leaving behind their sick loved ones to let fate decide their futures.
Among those left behind there was a young buck called Blind Tarvaa, who had not even set forth on his first hunt under the Eternal Blue Sky. He was already sick and had been labelled blind by his tribe’s shaman even though he could see after she had a terrible vision. As the plague come to his tribe Blind Tarvaa lost consciousness and his soul left his body but because he had not been initiated under the Eternal Blue Sky he lost his path and came to the Khaan of the hells." Altani pauses, strumming her lyre forcefully. Then she stops strumming it and slaps her hand on her flank.
The Khaan of the hells was astonished upon seeing the soul and said: “Why have you come here? You’re body isn’t dead yet.”
Taking the lyre back up, Altani continues to play. “They left me behind because they thought my body was already dead,” answered the soul of Blind Tarvaa, “I looked for the path to the Eternal Blue Sky but it was dark, like water fouled by blood, so I didn’t wait any longer but came right here.”
The obedience and fortitude of the soul pleased the khaan and he said: “Your time hasn’t come yet. You have to return to the Eternal Blue Sky and ride once more. But before you go, I will reward you for your bravery and you shall make a wish.”
The khaan lead the soul through the hells and there were all the things that Centaur can wish for in life: wealth, contentment, happiness, pleasure, music, tales and heroism. The soul of Blind Tarvaa looked at everything and finally asked for the tales of his people. The khaan gave them to him and sent him back to plains."
Altani slows her strumming down, giving it a more mellow and sad tone. "As the soul went back to his body it was showing no signs of life and a crow had already picked out the Centaur’s eyes. The soul was very sad to see the body he had been born in like that but he did not dare disobeying the Khaan’s order so the soul returned to his body and it stirred with life once more.
After that Blind Tarvaa lead a very long life and knew all the stories and tales in the world. Although he was blind, he could see what would happen in the future and he knew everything that had happened in the past. So he traveled throughout the Leavenwild Plains and told his tales to all of the tribes and with them taught the Centaur of our past and our future.With her last words Altani slows her playing of the lyre until the music fades.
Performance11 (+2 from Performance, +2 from proficiency with lyre)
Altani's eyes narrow as Meerkthistle whispers to Kestrell. "The Yuanti...", she comments but stops as Meerkthistle starts to talk to Wazzock.
As Meerkthistle finishes asking for everybody to tell her a story, Altani nodes and reaches around behind her, pulling a lyre out from a padded pouch under her shield. She strums the instrument, and clears her throat, her fingers working over the strings as she starts to tell her tale.
"I, Meerkthistle, will tell you a tale about the beginning of tales as my people know it.
Many years ago, a terrible plague sweep across the Leavenwild Plains and most of the North Vast, killing hundreds, no thousands of Centaur. The plague was so terrible in its curse, that bravery left my people and those who had the strength rode away to save their own lives, leaving behind their sick loved ones to let fate decide their futures.
Among those left behind there was a young buck called Blind Tarvaa, who had not even set forth on his first hunt under the Eternal Blue Sky. He was already sick and had been labelled blind by his tribe’s shaman even though he could see after she had a terrible vision. As the plague come to his tribe Blind Tarvaa lost consciousness and his soul left his body but because he had not been initiated under the Eternal Blue Sky he lost his path and came to the Khaan of the hells." Altani pauses, strumming her lyre forcefully. Then she stops strumming it and slaps her hand on her flank.
The Khaan of the hells was astonished upon seeing the soul and said: “Why have you come here? You’re body isn’t dead yet.”
Taking the lyre back up, Altani continues to play. “They left me behind because they thought my body was already dead,” answered the soul of Blind Tarvaa, “I looked for the path to the Eternal Blue Sky but it was dark, like water fouled by blood, so I didn’t wait any longer but came right here.”
The obedience and fortitude of the soul pleased the khaan and he said: “Your time hasn’t come yet. You have to return to the Eternal Blue Sky and ride once more. But before you go, I will reward you for your bravery and you shall make a wish.”
The khaan lead the soul through the hells and there were all the things that Centaur can wish for in life: wealth, contentment, happiness, pleasure, music, tales and heroism. The soul of Blind Tarvaa looked at everything and finally asked for the tales of his people. The khaan gave them to him and sent him back to plains."
Altani slows her strumming down, giving it a more mellow and sad tone. "As the soul went back to his body it was showing no signs of life and a crow had already picked out the Centaur’s eyes. The soul was very sad to see the body he had been born in like that but he did not dare disobeying the Khaan’s order so the soul returned to his body and it stirred with life once more.
After that Blind Tarvaa lead a very long life and knew all the stories and tales in the world. Although he was blind, he could see what would happen in the future and he knew everything that had happened in the past. So he traveled throughout the Leavenwild Plains and told his tales to all of the tribes and with them taught the Centaur of our past and our future.With her last words Altani slows her playing of the lyre until the music fades.
Performance16 (+2 from Performance, +2 from proficiency with lyre)
'Meerkthistle stirs the *crackling* flames and burning embers as she adds yet more dried herbs to her small fire. The silent lizardwoman says nothing as Altani speaks, merely nodding her battered old head as the centaur speaks of her legendary ancestors return from the gates of hell. During the telling of a tale that she has told many times before, Altani finds herself growing especially emotional throughout, as well as experiencing almost tangible visions of Blind Tarvaa's fabled exploits, though the unflappable centaur blinks and shakes her head to clear it of the strangely vivid feelings and visualisations.
As the armoured warrior's music and words fade away at the conclusion of her tale, the Swampmother looks up and with a crooked smile says,'
"You tell a good story, Altani of the Plainss. Ass all good storiess should, yourss containss truth and fable, joy and sadnesss, triumph and dispair. You do your ancestorss proud, descendent of Blind Tarvaa.
Hmm, it iss almost noon. Ass I have invited you to sit at my fire and share storiess, so must I feed you ass welcome guestss."
'With that, the odd little woman gets up and moves into her hut for a few moments, presumably gathering whatever it is that she plans to feed you with. Scant minutes later, the old recluse returns with a basket full of long, curled strips of brown meat and a crude wooden platter bearing seven small stone bowls of a bright red paste. Handing a few lengths of brown meat and bowl of paste to each of you, Meerkthistle dips a piece of meat into her own bowl before taking a bite of the seemingly chewy flesh. Smiling even as she devours her meal, your apparently hungry host then asks,'
"Mmm. Yess, eat. It iss good, yess? Yess!
So... who iss next to share a story with thiss old hermit? Hmm?"
[OOC] Anyone who looks to the hut as Meerkthistle enters and leaves her humble home may make a perception check and read the spoiler with a score of 15 or more:
'As the heavy green blanket-come-curtain is shifted aside by the stooped and thin lizardwoman, you can almost swear that you see a dark, shadowy flash of motion within - like the silhouette of a sharply tipped wing unfurling.'
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D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Mazin listens to Altani as she tells her story. It was very well done, he enjoyed it. He accepts the food from Meerkthistle, copying how she eats the meat. As he eats, he stares into the fire. Mazin does not know any tales of long ago, or any tales from his people at all. Well, he has one story he knows. He speaks, softly and solemnly
"There was a boy. There was a family. They shared no blood, but they shared love. There was happiness. There was joy. There was life." He pauses and smiles sadly into the fire.
"The boy grew, and then grew more. The boy grew larger than all the others in his village. The boy was still just a boy. The boy rejected his instincts, his nature." He pauses again, now frowning while he stares deep into the flames.
Speaking louder now, Mazin continues. "There was fury! There was red. There was RAGE! Then... there was nothing."((Strength check to see if he accidentally crushes the stone bowl while speaking 17))
Mazin takes a deep breath, speaking softly again "There was fear. There was guilt. There was shame. There was.... cowardice. The boy ran, and then ran more."
"There was Rage. There were forests. There were animals.... There was a teacher. There was acceptance. There was peace. There was purpose. There was a man." Mazin ends, with a small smile on his face, still staring into the flames ahead of him.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Alwin just looks at her and nods nervously as he responds “I know wh…at my people th…ink about you. Th…ough I’m not one to judge being a ha…lf breed. You ha…ve your ways and the…re is nothing wrong with th…at and you aren’t hurting anyone.”
As she moves onto the others, he goes back to being quiet. His hands resting on his lap as he sits, the index finger at times moving at a rapid pace in a repeated pounding pattern. As he listened to Atlani recount the historic tell, trying to remember as much as he could.
'Kestrell walks over and joins Meerkthistle around the fire, dipping a piece of meat into the red sauce and eating it.'
"Thank you!"
OOC: Perception 19
"Say, Meerthistle? What else is in your hut? "
OOC: Insight for her response: 12
'Meerkthistle cocks her head sharply to the left as she turns the scarred right side of her face towards Kestrell before she stuffs another piece of the rather delicious smoked eel (or possibly snake) dipped in some kind of wildberry hotsauce into her mouth. Chewing noisely and with her toothy maw open for the most part, the aged Streamsister finally replies in an open, carefree manner,'
"Bowlss and blanketss. Hmm. Potss and poor paintingss. Yess. And an old woman'ss small clothess, hehehe. If you care to see them, elf, I may show them to you one day... but be careful what you wish for, hmm. Yess, indeed. Careful what you wish for, hehehe."
[OOC] Kestrell finds Meerkthistle VERY difficult to get a read on due to his unfamiliarity with her kind and the lizardwoman's eccentricity, though he believes that she is being honest in what she says.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Mazin listens to Altani as she tells her story. It was very well done, he enjoyed it. He accepts the food from Meerkthistle, copying how she eats the meat. As he eats, he stares into the fire. Mazin does not know any tales of long ago, or any tales from his people at all. Well, he has one story he knows. He speaks, softly and solemnly
"There was a boy. There was a family. They shared no blood, but they shared love. There was happiness. There was joy. There was life." He pauses and smiles sadly into the fire.
"The boy grew, and then grew more. The boy grew larger than all the others in his village. The boy was still just a boy. The boy rejected his instincts, his nature." He pauses again, now frowning while he stares deep into the flames.
Speaking louder now, Mazin continues. "There was fury! There was red. There was RAGE! Then... there was nothing."((Strength check to see if he accidentally crushes the stone bowl while speaking 17))
Mazin takes a deep breath, speaking softly again "There was fear. There was guilt. There was shame. There was.... cowardice. The boy ran, and then ran more."
"There was Rage. There were forests. There were animals.... There was a teacher. There was acceptance. There was peace. There was purpose. There was a man." Mazin ends, with a small smile on his face, still staring into the flames ahead of him.
'The food is good, the meat rich and smoky, the sauce hot and spicy. When Mazin finally speaks, the sounds of chewing, the *buzzing* of tiny insects and the continuing *crackling* of Meerkthistle's fire accompany the huge man's words. Half-way through his tale, the small but thick and rigid stone bowl snaps in half within the goliath's meaty paws with a *CRACK* that resounds through the clearing and beyond across the hillside.
For her part, Meerkthistle again listens attentively as she stares into the fire, finishing the last of her food before placing the bowl on the soft ground next to her. Allowing her lopsided gaze to follow the small white plume of smoke up into the now somewhat cloudy and partially overcast sky, the lizardwoman finally speaks in an almost distracted tone,'
"Mmm. Good company, good food and good storiess. Hmm, yess. Very good, indeed. Worth the price of a bowl, yess. There wass a boy. There iss a man. There will be... something more, yess? Yess!
Good, good. Who will share next? More storiess in trade for my wisdom, yess? Hehehe."
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D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Altani chimes in, “Kestrell, I can not sense anything of otherworldly evil near us, in this clearing but those ruins at the top of the hill”, she points toward them, “something evil resides in them. I can feel a dark miasma emitting from that place, one of cold bones and putrid flesh.”
Altani turns back to Meerkthistle. “Thank you for your offering of food and I mean no offence by not partaking with you however I have sworn not to indulge in meats of any kind.”
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Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Altani chimes in, “Kestrell, I can not sense anything of otherworldly evil near us, in this clearing but those ruins at the top of the hill”, she points toward them, “something evil resides in them. I can feel a dark miasma emitting from that place, one of cold bones and putrid flesh.”
Altani turns back to Meerkthistle. “Thank you for your offering of food and I mean no offence by not partaking with you however I have sworn not to indulge in meats of any kind.”
'Meerkthistle turns back towards Altani, before glancing up towards the ruins atop the hill. The still distant and hard to discern dilapidated buildings seem to almost attract the gathering bad weather, as the entire top of the hill is now circled by darkening grey clouds. Bringing her stare back to those within the clearing, the lizardwoman says in a low voice barely above a whisper,'
"Neither ancient nor secret those ruinss are... but dark, yess, so dark. A miasma cold and putrid you rightly name them and right you are, eater of grainss and fruitss. Best left alone some placess are, yess? Yess.
No offence will your wordss give me, Altani of the Plainss, but guestss at my humble home must eat OR drink when sharing storiess at my fire. Yess? Yess! So here... try thiss."
'The perculiar lizardfolk elder moves back to her hut and a moment later returns with a waterskin formed from some animals stitched bladder and a clay plate layered with a flat, dark brown bread of some kind. Meerkthistle holds both out to Altani as she says with a toothy smile,'
"Pure silt waterss from the Bidden Spring, young warrior, and Balkuri Bread made from nutss, berriess and willow bark. Good, yess? Yess. Eat, drink... such company thiss old woman doess not often get, hmm. Yess."
[OOC] If anyone would like to re-attempt a perception check when Meerkthistle re-enters and leaves her hut, they may and read the spoiler at the bottom of post 859 with a score of 15 or more.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Altani smiles and takes the offering of spring water and Bulkuri bread from the lizardwoman, saying her thanks. Taking a bite of the bread and washing it down with a swig of water, Altani nodes, “This is very nice”
"Bowlss and blanketss. Hmm. Potss and poor paintingss. Yess. And an old woman'ss small clothess, hehehe. If you care to see them, elf, I may show them to you one day... but be careful what you wish for, hmm. Yess, indeed. Careful what you wish for, hehehe."
...
'Kestrell takes another bite of the meat.'
"Is this a fish of some kind? I've never had anything quite like it."
"Yes, no need to see your small clothes. You don't have any pets in there, aye?"
Altani chimes in, “Kestrell, I can not sense anything of otherworldly evil near us, in this clearing but those ruins at the top of the hill”, she points toward them, “something evil resides in them. I can feel a dark miasma emitting from that place, one of cold bones and putrid flesh.”...
"Something evil you say? That doesn't sound good? Meerkat, it is so close to you! How do you live this close to those dark, evil ruins?"
"Is this a fish of some kind? I've never had anything quite like it."
"Yes, no need to see your small clothes. You don't have any pets in there, aye?"
"Something evil you say? That doesn't sound good? Meerkat, it is so close to you! How do you live this close to those dark, evil ruins?"
"It is smoked Tribixzi, or marsh eel, in your common tongue. It iss common enough among my people and even those who huddle within the paltry wallss of yonder town.
Petss? No, no petss, curiouss one. Domesticating free soulss iss anathema to Semuanya'ss edictss and the natural order that the Swamp Father defendss. I have many friendss about thiss place though. Yess, many friendss. Hehehe.
Ass I said, elf, you have nothing to fear here. Not now. And I have alwayss lived here. The dangerouss thingss of the marsh know thiss and leave me be. The fell thingss in those ruinss might not, but they do not leave the hilltop. Cursed they are, a danger only to the foolish and the greedy. A warning also, perhapss. Yess, a warning. Hmm."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
"Marsh eel? I had no idea I would enjoy it this much!"
"While I get my story straight in my mind, do you think it would be foolish of us to go to those ruins at the top of the hill? Perhaps there are clues up there? Or a band of marauding murderers of lizardfolk making it their hideout?"
"Marsh eel? I had no idea I would enjoy it this much!"
"While I get my story straight in my mind, do you think it would be foolish of us to go to those ruins at the top of the hill? Perhaps there are clues up there? Or a band of marauding murderers of lizardfolk making it their hideout?"
"You sit at my fire, and eat and ask questionss, answer seeker, but you give nothing of yourself. Share nothing. Thiss iss not the way of my people... though I know that it iss very much the way of yourss."
'Meerkthistle gives a toothy yawn as she stirs her little fire, lidded eyes gazing about the small gathering, apparently content to wait for the requested stories before sharing more of herself.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
"Very well, a story you ask for, aye? Then a story you will get!"
"It was a dark, and stormy night. The rain pounded and the wind howled against the windows of The Stable, a fancy tavern on the outskirts of the small, frontier town. The Stable was famous throughout the land for it's fine ale and it's even finer cookies. For they had a baker employed at The Stable that had been trained in the finest bakeries of the distant citadels. She made delicious cookies of peanut butter, chocolate morsels, frosted, and even ginger cookies!"
"On that dark and stormy night, the door burst open and in walked a gang of ruffians. Hooligans, Ne'er-do-wells, and Thugs all, they had their swords drawn and crossbows locked, looking for the baker. They drug her out of The Stable, claiming that she would only cook her delicacies for them now."
"The next day, a handsome, dashing fellow entered The Stable looking for his usual coffee and snickerdoodle only to hear the sad news about the baker, Sarah, being kidnapped to cook for the evil gang. The handsome, dashing fellow, who went by the name of Ash, immediately whirled about and left The Stable in search of Sarah."
"Ash picked up the evil gang's tracks, and followed them for several hours as they wound through the forest, over hills, and through creeks. The tracks eventually led him to the next nearest village, which had it's own tavern called simply 'Bill's Place'. Sure enough, the tracks led straight to the tavern."
"Ash, throwing caution to the wind, barged into Bill's Place and bellowed 'WHERE IS SARAH? I HAVE COME TO RESCUE HER!' Much to his surprise, the evil gang was passed out at their tables, half eaten cookies all around and crumbs littering their faces. Sarah, hearing Ash's call came out of the kitchen and told him that she had put a little sleeping mint in this batch of cookies and she was just getting ready to escape."
"Ash offered his arm to Sarah, and they rushed back to The Stable. It is said that to this day, if you catch the wind just right, you can still smell the enticing scent of chocolate chip cookies wafting out of the windows of The Stable, and hear Ash and Sarah giggling contentedly."
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'Kestrell, still standing at the edge of the clearing, thinks to himself:' "Defiled meat by the children of Semuanya? What is she talking about?"
'Wazzock turns and puts a finger over pursed lips,' "The children of Semuanya... meaning the crocodiles. Defiled, meaning murdered, butchered really... And yes... we seek your council to put a stop to the murders. You say you know of them, but is there any information that you can provide to aid our quest?"
~♡~
'The lizardwoman watches Altani's cautious circle and examination of her home with apparent mirth, but her face takes on an almost solemn cast as she responds to the centaur's traditional greeting and respectful inquiry,'
"Greetingss child of the Eternal Blue Sky. You are welcome here among the grasss, mud and waterss of the Marsh Father. Ever have your people been honourable free soulss of the Worldheart and no foess of the Southmarsh Peopless. A pleasure it iss to have you and your huntmatess at my fire, Altani of the Great Plainss. I am called Swampmother, Streamsister and Mudgazer, among other things, by my own people and, yess, I am called a shaman by those who visit us or do not know our wayss.
As you have given my your true name, so shall you have mine. I wass first named Meerkthistle many moonss ago by my brood mother, and yess, hatched I wass in the same warren ass that young bull Thurk, though hiss first scenting wass yearss after my own and he now toilss in a place that iss no true home to me and mine.
Foul killingss, yess. And my people these are... or were. A young murkwalker I wass when Exbrin and Thurk went on their first hunt together and these old handss helped sweet, timid Mirinah from the shell not twenty flood cycless ago. Barluk I once cured of deadly Redworm Fever and Koothu used to bring me fresh fish once every moonwash. Yess, I knew these folk. They once lived out here amidst Semuanya'ss bounty... but then later chose the wayss of the Kingdom, the wayss of wallss, of streetss, of coinss... of alien godss. And so the great Marsh Father turned hiss gaze from them. But still, they did not deserve such foul fatess.
What else do I know? I know that these killingss were not the work of Semuanya or hiss children. Nor the work of the other wild beastss of these landss. Ass I would have told my younger warren brother were he not too ashamed to come to me himself.
Ruinss... What do you know of ruinss, field runner? They are many and they are everywhere throughout these soft, wet landss. Some are ancient. Many are deadly. Most are hidden. All are occupied... by dark memoriess if nothing else. Were these townsfolk killed by ancient secretss or dark memoriess? No, thiss one thinkss not."
[OOC] Altani may read the spoiler below:
'Through the grace of Mielikki you detect no beings of an angelic or diabolical nature, nor the distinctive grave stench of the undead, within the immediate area around the hut or clearing. As you reach out with your divinely granted senses, however, you do catch a faint wafting of a dark pall emnating from the top of the hill - an emnation that somehow feels like cold bones and putrid flesh to you.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
'Meerkthistle turns away from her discussion with the centaur, goliath and orc to study Alwin for a moment with a look of open curiosity, as if he were an oddity that the strange old lizardwoman was unfamiliar with. Cocking her head to one side as a large rainbow hued dragonfly *buzzes* by, the hide and necklace clad mystic replies,'
"Hmm... iss it, elf? Regardlesss, you are the first of your kind to say so, though it hass been many moonss since I have spoken with one of your brethren. Masterss of the Great Forest, hmm? Yess, loverss of treess, secretss and power.
Primitive, your people consider mine, hmm? Yess, it iss so. No use denying it, though you have an honest enough smell about you. And maybe we are and ass such should stay."
'The thin and much weathered lizardwoman's piercing brown eyes move from the half-elven swordsman to the silent Kestrell standing at the edge of the clearing, before the puzzling and cryptic elder mutters something quietly under her breath as she pulls another handful of old roots and dried leaves from her pouch to toss on the aromatic fire.'
[OOC] Everyone can make a perception check to hear what she says, with Kestrell having a DC of 20 and those PCs around the fire having a DC of 15:
'In pairss they came, in pairss they come. Hmm, never bringing pearss or other wholesome fruitss though, no. Alwayss they bring sharp tonguess and seeking eyess. Hmm, yess...'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
'Meerkthistle turns back to Wazzock with a long crooked smile and a lively glint in her eyes that is only accentuated by her deep scarring and gimpy stare. As the greeny-gold skinned woman suddenly begins to nod her head enthusiastically, she says excitedly,'
"Ohh, yess, yess, YESS. You are a wise one, daughter of the One Eye. Wise enough to turn away from eonss of bloodshed, ass your ancestorss were. Yess, I know of he whose mark you wear and of those from whom you are descended. Tuskss may rend, but tuskss may also reason. Hmm, yess. A curiouss line it iss, drawn in both blood and ink. Curiouss indeed.
Information? Of course, of course. Why else would young bloodss come to speak to old Meerkthistle, hmm. You have but to ask the right questionss... AND tell me a brief story.Yess, a story, one story each! A fair trade for a taste of my hard earned wisdom, yess? Yess! Hehehe..."
[OOC] As Meerkthistle glances around expectantly at each of you, it becomes clear that she will say no more until she has received her price.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Altani's eyes narrow as Meerkthistle whispers to Kestrell. "The Yuanti...", she comments but stops as Meerkthistle starts to talk to Wazzock.
As Meerkthistle finishes asking for everybody to tell her a story, Altani nodes and reaches around behind her, pulling a lyre out from a padded pouch under her shield. She strums the instrument, and clears her throat, her fingers working over the strings as she starts to tell her tale.
"I, Meerkthistle, will tell you a tale about the beginning of tales as my people know it.
Many years ago, a terrible plague sweep across the Leavenwild Plains and most of the North Vast, killing hundreds, no thousands of Centaur. The plague was so terrible in its curse, that bravery left my people and those who had the strength rode away to save their own lives, leaving behind their sick loved ones to let fate decide their futures.
Among those left behind there was a young buck called Blind Tarvaa, who had not even set forth on his first hunt under the Eternal Blue Sky. He was already sick and had been labelled blind by his tribe’s shaman even though he could see after she had a terrible vision. As the plague come to his tribe Blind Tarvaa lost consciousness and his soul left his body but because he had not been initiated under the Eternal Blue Sky he lost his path and came to the Khaan of the hells." Altani pauses, strumming her lyre forcefully. Then she stops strumming it and slaps her hand on her flank.
The Khaan of the hells was astonished upon seeing the soul and said: “Why have you come here? You’re body isn’t dead yet.”
Taking the lyre back up, Altani continues to play. “They left me behind because they thought my body was already dead,” answered the soul of Blind Tarvaa, “I looked for the path to the Eternal Blue Sky but it was dark, like water fouled by blood, so I didn’t wait any longer but came right here.”
The obedience and fortitude of the soul pleased the khaan and he said: “Your time hasn’t come yet. You have to return to the Eternal Blue Sky and ride once more. But before you go, I will reward you for your bravery and you shall make a wish.”
The khaan lead the soul through the hells and there were all the things that Centaur can wish for in life: wealth, contentment, happiness, pleasure, music, tales and heroism. The soul of Blind Tarvaa looked at everything and finally asked for the tales of his people. The khaan gave them to him and sent him back to plains."
Altani slows her strumming down, giving it a more mellow and sad tone. "As the soul went back to his body it was showing no signs of life and a crow had already picked out the Centaur’s eyes. The soul was very sad to see the body he had been born in like that but he did not dare disobeying the Khaan’s order so the soul returned to his body and it stirred with life once more.
After that Blind Tarvaa lead a very long life and knew all the stories and tales in the world. Although he was blind, he could see what would happen in the future and he knew everything that had happened in the past. So he traveled throughout the Leavenwild Plains and told his tales to all of the tribes and with them taught the Centaur of our past and our future. With her last words Altani slows her playing of the lyre until the music fades.
Performance 11 (+2 from Performance, +2 from proficiency with lyre)
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
'Meerkthistle stirs the *crackling* flames and burning embers as she adds yet more dried herbs to her small fire. The silent lizardwoman says nothing as Altani speaks, merely nodding her battered old head as the centaur speaks of her legendary ancestors return from the gates of hell. During the telling of a tale that she has told many times before, Altani finds herself growing especially emotional throughout, as well as experiencing almost tangible visions of Blind Tarvaa's fabled exploits, though the unflappable centaur blinks and shakes her head to clear it of the strangely vivid feelings and visualisations.
As the armoured warrior's music and words fade away at the conclusion of her tale, the Swampmother looks up and with a crooked smile says,'
"You tell a good story, Altani of the Plainss. Ass all good storiess should, yourss containss truth and fable, joy and sadnesss, triumph and dispair. You do your ancestorss proud, descendent of Blind Tarvaa.
Hmm, it iss almost noon. Ass I have invited you to sit at my fire and share storiess, so must I feed you ass welcome guestss."
'With that, the odd little woman gets up and moves into her hut for a few moments, presumably gathering whatever it is that she plans to feed you with. Scant minutes later, the old recluse returns with a basket full of long, curled strips of brown meat and a crude wooden platter bearing seven small stone bowls of a bright red paste. Handing a few lengths of brown meat and bowl of paste to each of you, Meerkthistle dips a piece of meat into her own bowl before taking a bite of the seemingly chewy flesh. Smiling even as she devours her meal, your apparently hungry host then asks,'
"Mmm. Yess, eat. It iss good, yess? Yess!
So... who iss next to share a story with thiss old hermit? Hmm?"
[OOC] Anyone who looks to the hut as Meerkthistle enters and leaves her humble home may make a perception check and read the spoiler with a score of 15 or more:
'As the heavy green blanket-come-curtain is shifted aside by the stooped and thin lizardwoman, you can almost swear that you see a dark, shadowy flash of motion within - like the silhouette of a sharply tipped wing unfurling.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
"I'm not one to turn down food!"
'Kestrell walks over and joins Meerkthistle around the fire, dipping a piece of meat into the red sauce and eating it.'
"Thank you!"
OOC: Perception 19
"Say, Meerthistle? What else is in your hut? "
OOC: Insight for her response: 12
Mazin listens to Altani as she tells her story. It was very well done, he enjoyed it. He accepts the food from Meerkthistle, copying how she eats the meat. As he eats, he stares into the fire. Mazin does not know any tales of long ago, or any tales from his people at all. Well, he has one story he knows. He speaks, softly and solemnly
"There was a boy. There was a family. They shared no blood, but they shared love. There was happiness. There was joy. There was life." He pauses and smiles sadly into the fire.
"The boy grew, and then grew more. The boy grew larger than all the others in his village. The boy was still just a boy. The boy rejected his instincts, his nature." He pauses again, now frowning while he stares deep into the flames.
Speaking louder now, Mazin continues. "There was fury! There was red. There was RAGE! Then... there was nothing." ((Strength check to see if he accidentally crushes the stone bowl while speaking 17))
Mazin takes a deep breath, speaking softly again "There was fear. There was guilt. There was shame. There was.... cowardice. The boy ran, and then ran more."
"There was Rage. There were forests. There were animals.... There was a teacher. There was acceptance. There was peace. There was purpose. There was a man." Mazin ends, with a small smile on his face, still staring into the flames ahead of him.
Alwin just looks at her and nods nervously as he responds “I know wh…at my people th…ink about you. Th…ough I’m not one to judge being a ha…lf breed. You ha…ve your ways and the…re is nothing wrong with th…at and you aren’t hurting anyone.”
As she moves onto the others, he goes back to being quiet. His hands resting on his lap as he sits, the index finger at times moving at a rapid pace in a repeated pounding pattern. As he listened to Atlani recount the historic tell, trying to remember as much as he could.
[OOC]
perception check (856): 15
perception check (8590: 19
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Dangerous Designs - Kaelen Stoneshard - Minotaur Cleric (War Domain) Lv. 2 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
'Meerkthistle cocks her head sharply to the left as she turns the scarred right side of her face towards Kestrell before she stuffs another piece of the rather delicious smoked eel (or possibly snake) dipped in some kind of wildberry hotsauce into her mouth. Chewing noisely and with her toothy maw open for the most part, the aged Streamsister finally replies in an open, carefree manner,'
"Bowlss and blanketss. Hmm. Potss and poor paintingss. Yess. And an old woman'ss small clothess, hehehe. If you care to see them, elf, I may show them to you one day... but be careful what you wish for, hmm. Yess, indeed. Careful what you wish for, hehehe."
[OOC] Kestrell finds Meerkthistle VERY difficult to get a read on due to his unfamiliarity with her kind and the lizardwoman's eccentricity, though he believes that she is being honest in what she says.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
'The food is good, the meat rich and smoky, the sauce hot and spicy. When Mazin finally speaks, the sounds of chewing, the *buzzing* of tiny insects and the continuing *crackling* of Meerkthistle's fire accompany the huge man's words. Half-way through his tale, the small but thick and rigid stone bowl snaps in half within the goliath's meaty paws with a *CRACK* that resounds through the clearing and beyond across the hillside.
For her part, Meerkthistle again listens attentively as she stares into the fire, finishing the last of her food before placing the bowl on the soft ground next to her. Allowing her lopsided gaze to follow the small white plume of smoke up into the now somewhat cloudy and partially overcast sky, the lizardwoman finally speaks in an almost distracted tone,'
"Mmm. Good company, good food and good storiess. Hmm, yess. Very good, indeed. Worth the price of a bowl, yess. There wass a boy. There iss a man. There will be... something more, yess? Yess!
Good, good. Who will share next? More storiess in trade for my wisdom, yess? Hehehe."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Altani chimes in, “Kestrell, I can not sense anything of otherworldly evil near us, in this clearing but those ruins at the top of the hill”, she points toward them, “something evil resides in them. I can feel a dark miasma emitting from that place, one of cold bones and putrid flesh.”
Altani turns back to Meerkthistle. “Thank you for your offering of food and I mean no offence by not partaking with you however I have sworn not to indulge in meats of any kind.”
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
'Meerkthistle turns back towards Altani, before glancing up towards the ruins atop the hill. The still distant and hard to discern dilapidated buildings seem to almost attract the gathering bad weather, as the entire top of the hill is now circled by darkening grey clouds. Bringing her stare back to those within the clearing, the lizardwoman says in a low voice barely above a whisper,'
"Neither ancient nor secret those ruinss are... but dark, yess, so dark. A miasma cold and putrid you rightly name them and right you are, eater of grainss and fruitss. Best left alone some placess are, yess? Yess.
No offence will your wordss give me, Altani of the Plainss, but guestss at my humble home must eat OR drink when sharing storiess at my fire. Yess? Yess! So here... try thiss."
'The perculiar lizardfolk elder moves back to her hut and a moment later returns with a waterskin formed from some animals stitched bladder and a clay plate layered with a flat, dark brown bread of some kind. Meerkthistle holds both out to Altani as she says with a toothy smile,'
"Pure silt waterss from the Bidden Spring, young warrior, and Balkuri Bread made from nutss, berriess and willow bark. Good, yess? Yess. Eat, drink... such company thiss old woman doess not often get, hmm. Yess."
[OOC] If anyone would like to re-attempt a perception check when Meerkthistle re-enters and leaves her hut, they may and read the spoiler at the bottom of post 859 with a score of 15 or more.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Altani smiles and takes the offering of spring water and Bulkuri bread from the lizardwoman, saying her thanks. Taking a bite of the bread and washing it down with a swig of water, Altani nodes, “This is very nice”
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
'Kestrell takes another bite of the meat.'
"Is this a fish of some kind? I've never had anything quite like it."
"Yes, no need to see your small clothes. You don't have any pets in there, aye?"
"Something evil you say? That doesn't sound good? Meerkat, it is so close to you! How do you live this close to those dark, evil ruins?"
"It is smoked Tribixzi, or marsh eel, in your common tongue. It iss common enough among my people and even those who huddle within the paltry wallss of yonder town.
Petss? No, no petss, curiouss one. Domesticating free soulss iss anathema to Semuanya'ss edictss and the natural order that the Swamp Father defendss. I have many friendss about thiss place though. Yess, many friendss. Hehehe.
Ass I said, elf, you have nothing to fear here. Not now. And I have alwayss lived here. The dangerouss thingss of the marsh know thiss and leave me be. The fell thingss in those ruinss might not, but they do not leave the hilltop. Cursed they are, a danger only to the foolish and the greedy. A warning also, perhapss. Yess, a warning. Hmm."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
"Marsh eel? I had no idea I would enjoy it this much!"
"While I get my story straight in my mind, do you think it would be foolish of us to go to those ruins at the top of the hill? Perhaps there are clues up there? Or a band of marauding murderers of lizardfolk making it their hideout?"
"You sit at my fire, and eat and ask questionss, answer seeker, but you give nothing of yourself. Share nothing. Thiss iss not the way of my people... though I know that it iss very much the way of yourss."
'Meerkthistle gives a toothy yawn as she stirs her little fire, lidded eyes gazing about the small gathering, apparently content to wait for the requested stories before sharing more of herself.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
"Very well, a story you ask for, aye? Then a story you will get!"
"It was a dark, and stormy night. The rain pounded and the wind howled against the windows of The Stable, a fancy tavern on the outskirts of the small, frontier town. The Stable was famous throughout the land for it's fine ale and it's even finer cookies. For they had a baker employed at The Stable that had been trained in the finest bakeries of the distant citadels. She made delicious cookies of peanut butter, chocolate morsels, frosted, and even ginger cookies!"
"On that dark and stormy night, the door burst open and in walked a gang of ruffians. Hooligans, Ne'er-do-wells, and Thugs all, they had their swords drawn and crossbows locked, looking for the baker. They drug her out of The Stable, claiming that she would only cook her delicacies for them now."
"The next day, a handsome, dashing fellow entered The Stable looking for his usual coffee and snickerdoodle only to hear the sad news about the baker, Sarah, being kidnapped to cook for the evil gang. The handsome, dashing fellow, who went by the name of Ash, immediately whirled about and left The Stable in search of Sarah."
"Ash picked up the evil gang's tracks, and followed them for several hours as they wound through the forest, over hills, and through creeks. The tracks eventually led him to the next nearest village, which had it's own tavern called simply 'Bill's Place'. Sure enough, the tracks led straight to the tavern."
"Ash, throwing caution to the wind, barged into Bill's Place and bellowed 'WHERE IS SARAH? I HAVE COME TO RESCUE HER!' Much to his surprise, the evil gang was passed out at their tables, half eaten cookies all around and crumbs littering their faces. Sarah, hearing Ash's call came out of the kitchen and told him that she had put a little sleeping mint in this batch of cookies and she was just getting ready to escape."
"Ash offered his arm to Sarah, and they rushed back to The Stable. It is said that to this day, if you catch the wind just right, you can still smell the enticing scent of chocolate chip cookies wafting out of the windows of The Stable, and hear Ash and Sarah giggling contentedly."