It is noon on a breezy summer day in Yartar, a bustling trading town. In the Inn of the Glowing Gem, the ambience is upbeat. The Dessarin Valley has been in turmoil, beset by elemental chaos, kidnappings, banditry, and worse. Rumours of an adventuring group breaking up an alliance of cultists are rife, and life has mostly returned to normal. Trade is busy, and the need for capable questers is high now that the recent dangers have subsided.
On the stage, a Goliath Bard performs for the crowd. Amongst the patrons: Two wizards, one halfling, and one gnome, sit comparing notes. In the corner, a human bounty hunter quietly eyes the crowd. At the bar rests a what can only be a druid, loudly talking to anyone who'll listen about local wildlife
At the bar, Fil Sawyerson is adorned in his leathers, which images of thin dragons embroidered into the seems and sleeves. His black hair is short and in a high top while his beard of the same color is somewhat trimmed. He is excitedly talking about the maximum height and weight a bear can reach during their adult years, and comparing brown bears in Cormyr to animals from the Western Heartlands.
"Not to sound too arrogant, but bears in Cormyr are so strong that they can knock down the hardiest Purple Dragon recruit!" Fil says, looking around to the patrons around him.
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I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
The bounty hunter is pretty obviously a bounty hunter. He's kind of squat and muscled, with stringy blonde hair, and he looks pretty rough. He's minding his own business, with a big tankard in front of him and the remains of a meal. Anyone who makes eye contact with him gets a grimace and a stink eye. Maybe he's waiting for someone specific? Or just grumpy.
But he didn't take a seat in the corner, rather, he's in a spot with several ways out, maybe a table out in the main room, not too far from the door, with no walls to hem him in.
Near the stage, a raucous group of men cheer and nod their heads to the beat of the drums and the goliath's harsh and guttural singing. This is not music you'd hear at the Queen's court for midsummer dance. It has more in common with military war camps, with alleyway brawls, with sailors, scoundrels, and ruffians. Despite the plebian nature of the music, it is undeniably catchy, and even the more highbrow patrons of the inn are unconsciously tapping their feet or fingers to the rhythm.
One of the men drunkenly climbs on his stool to raise a fist. He stumbles and falls, his companions catching him with bawdy laughs.
Klong sings and bangs the drums, lost in the thrall of the performance. As he scans the room, he can't help but notice the two smallfolk huddled in conversation, the leather adorned man at the bar, and the mysterious figure clearly sitting at the table that affords the most mobility. They look like they have stories to tell.
"A purple dragon? Can't say I've seen one to get the comparison straight" says the bartender, who previously introduced himself as Dale. "Mostly greens around here. This is Ol' Gnawbones domain. What about elementals? Think those bears of yours can take down one of them? Seen more than our share of those lately"
Fil laughs. "Perhaps. I've seen bears withstand the mightiest of elements." He stops for a moment and asks," Elements you say? Do you know why you're seeing elemental activity?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
At a table, Kelvin shoves a vial of red liquid at Glim, "Look, I'm telling you this stuff's the real deal this time! I may have stretched the truth a bit thin last time, but this time it's actual dragon's blood. And what do people know about dragons?" Before the gnome can respond, his answer is given for him, "Breathing fire, of course! I just need a bit of glow, then that trick we pulled last year with the...you know..." Kelvin mimes a great heaving from his chest and spewing something forth, "Fire and all?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The bald, blue-gray-skinned gnome sitting at the table seems to have a permanently dour look on his face. He is clad in a burgundy robe with gold trim, which shows the firm breastplate beneath it. Glim snatches the vial from Kelvin with a glare and pulls the cork off without breaking eye contact with the halfling. In a single motion he swishes it under his nose and inhales deeply, as though evaluating a fine wine, minus the sense of enjoying himself. "Dragon's blood, pah! I don't know who gave this to you but you were swindled. I mean, it might technically be from a 'dragon', but it's a wyvern at best. Nothing that breathes fire."
At that moment the song reaches a climax of frenetic drumming as the goliath bard on stage lets loose. Glim grimaces. "What is this music? Why did you pick this place again?"
Fil laughs. "Perhaps. I've seen bears withstand the mightiest of elements." He stops for a moment and asks," Elements you say? Do you know why you're seeing elemental activity?"
Dale looks at you somewhat surprised, but then relaxes his face "I guess if you just rolled in to town that makes sense you wouldn't know. Feels like we've been living this hell forever. A bunch of nut job cultists were trying to raise some elemental Lord or something is what heard. No idea if that's true or not, but either way it's been chaos here for months. Crazy weather, earthquakes, cyclones, you name it. Some band of numpties tried to take care of it but apparently just pissed things off. Some giant bloody earth fiend stomped the Jesus out of Womford and Red Larch. Took a huge party of soldiers from Waterdeep to fell the thing. Things seem back to normal now but there's still bunches of elementals popping out of the Sumber Hills here and there."
Kelvin shrugs off the last question, "Good drinks and not a whole lot of questions. Glim, we've known each other long enough to know I never truly lose in the end." Kelvin's smile oozes pride of a professional salesman, "See I called this guy's bluff with one of my own and he bought it. Also, I said it was dragon's blood because we need to get the sound to sit right before we can sell it as such. So back to fire, remember that one you brewed up a while back? I tried to pass it off as a special spice blend for extra hot food? I'm thinking a dash of that and a bit of charm can win over a potential buyer."
He leans in close, "Lots of people know dragons mean fire-spitting, so someone with more coins than sense might believe that drinking the blood makes you spit fire? Unless you've got a better idea? What about treasure?! Dragons love the shinies, right? I could slip a locator for a sack of coins and play it off as a secret to finding fortune."
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"Well you have such a wonderful gift for altering minutiae to fit every conceivable scenario." Kelvin rests his head in his hands, giving a dreamy smile, "I mean, after all, I am only the eye which glimpses opportunity, and you are my blessing which shapes the ephemeral into reality!"
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Fil shakes his head. "I can't stand cultists, though it is good things seem back to normal. Nature is about balance, no elements should have dominion over the other. What was this cult?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Klong finishes his set with a triumphant roar, and steps down, shimmering with sweat. An uncertain and effete half-elf takes stage next, picking at a lute, and instantly losing the attention of the crowd. The goliath gives several fist bumps and high fives to the front row, unintentionally knocking some of the more inebriated fans back on their rear ends. He pushes past patrons in line at the bar. Murmurs of "hey, watch where you're going..." quickly turn into "... nevermind" when the utterant sees the eight foot tall, 300 plus pound man stride past them.
"DWARF ALE FOR KLONG!" shouts Klong to the bartender, slamming a fist the size of a small boulder onto the oak countertop. Dale winces visibly, and turns away from Fil. "I need to take care of him right away." He fills a quart stein full of ale, and slides it to the towering Goliath, who quaffs in two unceremonious gulps. Klong licks his lips, sighs, and belches in Fil's direction, blowing the druid's hair back. "ONE MORE!", he commands with a smile.
Klong sits down, the chair next to Fil having just been vacated by a patron who suddenly thought standing would be a much better idea. He turns to Fil. "You like Klong banging?" He smiles, his teeth a fistful of river pebbles in his mouth.
The blonde male human bounty hunter gets up after Klong's banging is done, with an appreciative nod, and makes his way to the door, leaving a coin for his meal. He ignores anyone who tries to talk to him, and exits quickly...
...and in walks a tall, dark haired beauty, eyes flashing as she takes in the crowd, spots the large bulk of Klong, and smiles a devastating smile. She stalks over there, letting her hands run along the shoulders of several patrons as she passes, a light smell of orchids follows her, as she demurely pushes her way up to the giant man and his druid friend. She pushes between them, calling for the bartender.
"Chief! A glass of Snobeedle, and if you haven't any, then whatever passes for fine wine in these parts." Then she raises an eyebrow at the two men., "Oh, excuse me, I hadn't noticed you. Make a little room, will ya? You guys new in town?"
Fil shakes his head. "I can't stand cultists, though it is good things seem back to normal. Nature is about balance, no elements should have dominion over the other. What was this cult?"
Wincing as Klong sits down, Dale begin to answer the Druid. "No idea to be honest. I tried not to get involved in the whole mess. Bunch of nutters running around in masks and crap. I'm just glad it seems to be do ....", Suddenly completely distracted by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen pushing herself into the conversation. "There's a poster over there about one of them that escaped if your interested. Hello ma heart, what can ol' Dale get for ye? Delightful Dale is what the ladies call me, afterwards anyways at least" he says, winking.
Soon after, Glim's attention is drawn toward the door, not so much by the woman entering as by the number of heads turning that way as she does. He sees her approaching the bar and notices a subtle lag as she moves her leg, as though it is catching up to itself. He squints, scowling, to assess her more closely.
"Illusionist?" he says, turning back to Kelvin.
Hearing her ask for wine he takes advantage of the distracted state of the other patrons to slide his hand into a little pouch on his belt, pulling out a bit of fleece and making a gesture under the table. A bottle appears on the table with an ornate label written in elven script. Looking at Kelvin he nods his head toward the woman to suggest that he approach. "Now this could be interesting."
At the bar, Fil Sawyerson is adorned in his leathers, which images of thin dragons embroidered into the seems and sleeves. His black hair is short and in a high top while his beard of the same color is somewhat trimmed. He is excitedly talking about the maximum height and weight a bear can reach during their adult years, and comparing brown bears in Cormyr to animals from the Western Heartlands.
"Not to sound too arrogant, but bears in Cormyr are so strong that they can knock down the hardiest Purple Dragon recruit!" Fil says, looking around to the patrons around him.
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Regor (Fionula)
The bounty hunter is pretty obviously a bounty hunter. He's kind of squat and muscled, with stringy blonde hair, and he looks pretty rough. He's minding his own business, with a big tankard in front of him and the remains of a meal. Anyone who makes eye contact with him gets a grimace and a stink eye. Maybe he's waiting for someone specific? Or just grumpy.
But he didn't take a seat in the corner, rather, he's in a spot with several ways out, maybe a table out in the main room, not too far from the door, with no walls to hem him in.
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
Near the stage, a raucous group of men cheer and nod their heads to the beat of the drums and the goliath's harsh and guttural singing. This is not music you'd hear at the Queen's court for midsummer dance. It has more in common with military war camps, with alleyway brawls, with sailors, scoundrels, and ruffians. Despite the plebian nature of the music, it is undeniably catchy, and even the more highbrow patrons of the inn are unconsciously tapping their feet or fingers to the rhythm.
One of the men drunkenly climbs on his stool to raise a fist. He stumbles and falls, his companions catching him with bawdy laughs.
Klong sings and bangs the drums, lost in the thrall of the performance. As he scans the room, he can't help but notice the two smallfolk huddled in conversation, the leather adorned man at the bar, and the mysterious figure clearly sitting at the table that affords the most mobility. They look like they have stories to tell.
Brunella Wildheart, Dwarf Barbarian,Tomb of Annihilation
Nyx, Fairy Cleric, Descent Into Avernus
"A purple dragon? Can't say I've seen one to get the comparison straight" says the bartender, who previously introduced himself as Dale. "Mostly greens around here. This is Ol' Gnawbones domain. What about elementals? Think those bears of yours can take down one of them? Seen more than our share of those lately"
Fil laughs. "Perhaps. I've seen bears withstand the mightiest of elements." He stops for a moment and asks," Elements you say? Do you know why you're seeing elemental activity?"
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
At a table, Kelvin shoves a vial of red liquid at Glim, "Look, I'm telling you this stuff's the real deal this time! I may have stretched the truth a bit thin last time, but this time it's actual dragon's blood. And what do people know about dragons?" Before the gnome can respond, his answer is given for him, "Breathing fire, of course! I just need a bit of glow, then that trick we pulled last year with the...you know..." Kelvin mimes a great heaving from his chest and spewing something forth, "Fire and all?"
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The bald, blue-gray-skinned gnome sitting at the table seems to have a permanently dour look on his face. He is clad in a burgundy robe with gold trim, which shows the firm breastplate beneath it. Glim snatches the vial from Kelvin with a glare and pulls the cork off without breaking eye contact with the halfling. In a single motion he swishes it under his nose and inhales deeply, as though evaluating a fine wine, minus the sense of enjoying himself. "Dragon's blood, pah! I don't know who gave this to you but you were swindled. I mean, it might technically be from a 'dragon', but it's a wyvern at best. Nothing that breathes fire."
At that moment the song reaches a climax of frenetic drumming as the goliath bard on stage lets loose. Glim grimaces. "What is this music? Why did you pick this place again?"
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Dale looks at you somewhat surprised, but then relaxes his face "I guess if you just rolled in to town that makes sense you wouldn't know. Feels like we've been living this hell forever. A bunch of nut job cultists were trying to raise some elemental Lord or something is what heard. No idea if that's true or not, but either way it's been chaos here for months. Crazy weather, earthquakes, cyclones, you name it. Some band of numpties tried to take care of it but apparently just pissed things off. Some giant bloody earth fiend stomped the Jesus out of Womford and Red Larch. Took a huge party of soldiers from Waterdeep to fell the thing. Things seem back to normal now but there's still bunches of elementals popping out of the Sumber Hills here and there."
Kelvin shrugs off the last question, "Good drinks and not a whole lot of questions. Glim, we've known each other long enough to know I never truly lose in the end." Kelvin's smile oozes pride of a professional salesman, "See I called this guy's bluff with one of my own and he bought it. Also, I said it was dragon's blood because we need to get the sound to sit right before we can sell it as such. So back to fire, remember that one you brewed up a while back? I tried to pass it off as a special spice blend for extra hot food? I'm thinking a dash of that and a bit of charm can win over a potential buyer."
He leans in close, "Lots of people know dragons mean fire-spitting, so someone with more coins than sense might believe that drinking the blood makes you spit fire? Unless you've got a better idea? What about treasure?! Dragons love the shinies, right? I could slip a locator for a sack of coins and play it off as a secret to finding fortune."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Glim harumphs. "I assume you want me to supply the charm in this equation," he deadpans, scowling.
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
"Well you have such a wonderful gift for altering minutiae to fit every conceivable scenario." Kelvin rests his head in his hands, giving a dreamy smile, "I mean, after all, I am only the eye which glimpses opportunity, and you are my blessing which shapes the ephemeral into reality!"
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Fil shakes his head. "I can't stand cultists, though it is good things seem back to normal. Nature is about balance, no elements should have dominion over the other. What was this cult?"
I have an intelligence of six, I know what I'm doing.
Klong finishes his set with a triumphant roar, and steps down, shimmering with sweat. An uncertain and effete half-elf takes stage next, picking at a lute, and instantly losing the attention of the crowd. The goliath gives several fist bumps and high fives to the front row, unintentionally knocking some of the more inebriated fans back on their rear ends. He pushes past patrons in line at the bar. Murmurs of "hey, watch where you're going..." quickly turn into "... nevermind" when the utterant sees the eight foot tall, 300 plus pound man stride past them.
"DWARF ALE FOR KLONG!" shouts Klong to the bartender, slamming a fist the size of a small boulder onto the oak countertop. Dale winces visibly, and turns away from Fil. "I need to take care of him right away." He fills a quart stein full of ale, and slides it to the towering Goliath, who quaffs in two unceremonious gulps. Klong licks his lips, sighs, and belches in Fil's direction, blowing the druid's hair back. "ONE MORE!", he commands with a smile.
Klong sits down, the chair next to Fil having just been vacated by a patron who suddenly thought standing would be a much better idea. He turns to Fil. "You like Klong banging?" He smiles, his teeth a fistful of river pebbles in his mouth.
Brunella Wildheart, Dwarf Barbarian,Tomb of Annihilation
Nyx, Fairy Cleric, Descent Into Avernus
Regor (Fionula)
The blonde male human bounty hunter gets up after Klong's banging is done, with an appreciative nod, and makes his way to the door, leaving a coin for his meal. He ignores anyone who tries to talk to him, and exits quickly...
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
Serena (Fionula)
...and in walks a tall, dark haired beauty, eyes flashing as she takes in the crowd, spots the large bulk of Klong, and smiles a devastating smile. She stalks over there, letting her hands run along the shoulders of several patrons as she passes, a light smell of orchids follows her, as she demurely pushes her way up to the giant man and his druid friend. She pushes between them, calling for the bartender.
"Chief! A glass of Snobeedle, and if you haven't any, then whatever passes for fine wine in these parts." Then she raises an eyebrow at the two men., "Oh, excuse me, I hadn't noticed you. Make a little room, will ya? You guys new in town?"
ey/em/eirs, or they/them works, too (just not he).
Role-playing since that keep on those borderlands. Here's my D&D stuff. I love it so.
Campaign links for Game Log access because DDB has abandoned the forum dice roller, apparently.
Radiant Citadel by cbaer8 ~•~ Stormwreck Isle by Rforrest14 ~•~ Wildspace by Rhanloi ~•~ Rise of Tiamat by SteveThaiBinh ~•~ The Long Road currently by me
Wincing as Klong sits down, Dale begin to answer the Druid. "No idea to be honest. I tried not to get involved in the whole mess. Bunch of nutters running around in masks and crap. I'm just glad it seems to be do ....", Suddenly completely distracted by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen pushing herself into the conversation. "There's a poster over there about one of them that escaped if your interested. Hello ma heart, what can ol' Dale get for ye? Delightful Dale is what the ladies call me, afterwards anyways at least" he says, winking.
"Don't patronize me," Glim grumbles at Kelvin.
Soon after, Glim's attention is drawn toward the door, not so much by the woman entering as by the number of heads turning that way as she does. He sees her approaching the bar and notices a subtle lag as she moves her leg, as though it is catching up to itself. He squints, scowling, to assess her more closely.
"Illusionist?" he says, turning back to Kelvin.
Hearing her ask for wine he takes advantage of the distracted state of the other patrons to slide his hand into a little pouch on his belt, pulling out a bit of fleece and making a gesture under the table. A bottle appears on the table with an ornate label written in elven script. Looking at Kelvin he nods his head toward the woman to suggest that he approach. "Now this could be interesting."
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)