It had been two days down the the incident. Six travellers travel back towards the large city of Baldur's Gate, located on the western coast of the continent of Faerûn. Alongside them they have a single draft horse, atop it is a bundled and tied seventh figure, one that some of them knew well, whereas others did not. The death of Caldwell "Nine Lives" Jackson, bounty hunter extraordinaire was something that left an impact on all travelling in this group. Their steps leading along the coast way, a long path that leads to their destination where they plan to either find one to restore Nine Lives to life, or to bury him. Ironic as his name may seem, he was quite an upstanding and good man, ready to capture those whom slipped through the grasp of the law.
The second night came and went, the scent of Caldwell's body beginning to be noticeable by the travellers by the third. It seemed the herbs given to them by the barkeep at the way station were not as potent as previously advertised. However, the sights of the great city come into view an hour before noon. However, so does the sight of something else of interest. A large amount of pitched tents and a proverbial shanty town seems to have grown around The Basilisk Gate, hundreds, maybe more, folk seemingly camped outside the enormous gate that is usually open for all trade and needs. Today these gates are firmly shut, with a lot of uproar from the outside.
Upon getting closer, the party discovers these folk are all refugees, travellers from the city of Elturgard, the shining beacon upon the Chondathan River and rival sister city to Baldur's Gate, claiming the city had fallen. It does not take long to find many of these folk are hungry, scared, and panicked about what has just happened to them. The party, on the other hand, have other problems at hand, that being whether or not they can enter into Baldur's Gate itself.
Marching down the lines are a squadron of twelve armed and intimidating looking folk, all in formation. To the uninitiated, The Flaming Fist mercenary group may look like soldiers or a guard. For those whom have previously ventured into Baldur's Gate know that The Flaming Fist are cold hearted sellswords, paid by the higher ups within the city to attempt to keep some modicum of peace in these trying times. They have power to conscript, arrest, and kill within the city's parameters.
"Hey, you!" One of the guards points out the group, the other eleven guards take this one's lead. "We know you, bounty hunters, right?" He addresses a couple of the group. "Well your luck's rising, you and your friends here are gonna get a pass into the city." There are several voices of complaint and concernt from the civilians around the Outer City and the shanty town. "Shut your holes before we carve you some new ones!" The man calls at them, quietening them down. "You lot, come with me. Oh, and bring the horse. We could do with a bonus on Livestock restriction."
The party begin their story within the holding hall at the entrance of The Basilisk Gate. Their horse and Nine Lives taken off to an unknown location. The rest of their equipment has been left with themselves, allowing for them, no attempts to remove arms or armaments was made, they were just told to wait in this hall. Ahead of them they find a large wooden table, with eight chairs made of the same material placed with two on either side.
"The captain will be here in a moment." The guard who spotted the group beforehand tells them before leaving the room. "He's on a short fuse after this tenday, so keep it civil." With that the group are left to their own devices in this room.
(Feel free to introduce your characters. Perhaps a brief description of what they look like and something the party will already know about them.)
Alea sat there with a calm demeanor planted on her face, her jet short jet black military style hair swayed a bit as she let out a small sigh. The fighters face has a few small scars from some scuffles but nothing to noticeable, her eyes where naturally a bit more narrow as her blue iris looked forward with a calm and focused gaze, hiding the nervousness she felt in this moment. Her body was covered with a set of metallic plate armor covering most of her body, the armor was covered in minor scratches but was still in good condition, an insignia of a golden eagle with outstretched wings laid on its center. Within Alea’s small bag under her Tasset holding both her coins and an insignia showing that she was a member of the watch.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Marvarax andSora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
The moment the group had been lead into the hall, Axandros rushed towards one of the chairs placed around the wooden table. He was tired of standing, running and everything in between ween. The last few days had proved rather tiresome for someone not used to travel such distances on foot and the human wizard now slouching atop his new favorite chair definitely wasn't used to this. The greying and combed back hair made him look older than his thirty-five years he had on his back. His icy grey eyes normally always sharp and observant were as weary as the rest of the body. He wore a pristine black robe that, admittedly, had seen better days and which beared the family's crest in gold lines across the right chest. A diving falcon, which also adorned the tome that hung around his shoulder. "Who in the Nine Hells do I have to talk to in order to get something to drink?", he exclaimed as if he talked to the Flaming Fist beyond the door and one could tell that the wizard assumed that his wishes were heeded.
Despite his nervousness Pogo gave the guard a smile and sits down at the table "Thank you so much kind sir, I greatly appreciate the advi..." Trailing off as he looks to see the guard has already exited the room. "Ah, Lliira bless him, he must be very busy and in need of a little joy" He adds to really to himself as he softly rubs his symbol of his goddess with his calloused fingers. At first glance most wouldn't assume he was a priest of the goddess of joy, he wore damaged slightly rusty chain mail. Equipped with a mace that has seen better days and a dingy shield. He would forgive most for thinking he was some third rate mercenary but despite his outward appearance once he opened his mouth it was obvious he was a devout follower of Lliira. He let his symbol fall back to it's place around his neck before looking around taking the others in. His ever present smile fades as he looks over Arrow and Khaffosi, feeling guilty over his part in their friends death. He feels like he should say something but he is not sure what so instead he leans back and looks to the ceiling and whispers to himself "Lliira bless me as well"
Khaffosi is a thick and squat clean shaven human mix with auburn hair cut in a military style. His ashen grey skin often turns a shade of red as his temper rises, making him look flustered and winded, like a sedentary acolyte forced to march up several flights of stairs. However, when really angry, the color is often accompanied by wisps of smoke.
Khaffosi doesn't wear armor and his clothes look stylish and fit properly on his squat frame, albeit currently they are dirty from a couple days on the road. If he wasn't armed with well worn, well cared for and well used axes, including a giant greataxe, no one would think him willing to submit such nice clothing to a brawl.
After a day of travelling on the road, the party has become well aware of Khaffosi's temper. Any mention of the tragedy of Nine Lives immediately gets Khaffosi's color to rise, and ignoring Khaffosi's suggestion to "Shut the F' up!" causes the smoke to appear. Any provocation at that point causes Khaffosi to lose his shit. There are several trees between Baldur's Gate and the way station they were returning from that were chopped down for no better reason than to give Khaffosi a target to vent his rage.
Being separated from Nine Lives and the valuable horse, and thrust into this room to sit and wait on someone else's whim already has smoke rising around Khaffosi. If the guard had it true that the captain has a short fuse, everyone knows to quickly defuse the situation or stand out of the way.
Khaffosi sits in a chair that is slowly smoldering from the heat of his body. He is wringing his hands around the haft of the greataxe, looking like he needs to swing it to calm down some. "If any of you say anything about what happened..."
Alea let out a small groan as she looked over at Khaffosi before shaking her head looking at the rage filled man "I don't plan on telling anyone, this is important, and you need to learn to control your emotions better, they'll cloud your judgement in a fight or get you into one" she said before tapping the sword that rested at her hips "if you'd really like maybe I could help you train" she offered while giving him a serious almost blank look
Axandros gave the gensai an especially annoyed look, given that he was the one who started talking about it. "Listen to her. If you can't control yourself, you are the liability here.", he told Khaffosi. He hated that he now somehow depended on this motley group he barely knew, let alone trusted, to keep their mouths shut about the events that transpired a few days. "I can't believe that I am still waiting for my water.", he grunted frustrated.
After another couple of agonisingly quiet minutes, there is the sound of footfalls outside the door, followed by the door opening. Stepping into the room is a human man in splint mail armour, a captain's badge of The Flaming Fist. He takes a chair and plants himself onto it, staring at the group. "Well then..." The captain says. "This is the group my men conscript? Guess it could be worse." He sighs. "Well then, let's get to it; you want back into the city. I need extra hands to deal with a problem. You work for me for a bit, you've got your passage in, bypassing that whole crises outside. Understand? You don't help, I either chuck you out into the cold. You try anything funny, I exact my right to kick your asses."
(Spoiler shows the Flaming Fist Coat of Arms for those interested)
Alea let out a small sigh as she looked over at the flaming fist member, she didn’t show it but she did not enjoy working for this mercenary, but for the time being she would have to. Alea then got up and put a hand on Khaffosi’s shoulder, holding it as she turned to the captain “what sort of job did you have in mind” she said trying to hold in her distaste
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Marvarax andSora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
As angry as Khaffosi is, a thought causes him to grin, "Does that make me a flaming fist?" he asks, as he squeezes his hand into a fist and casts produce flame while holding it out towards the Captain.
Alea squeezes Khaddosi’s shoulder a bit tighter and shakes her head, she wasn’t going to let him die making a fool of himself in front of the cities more powerful faction
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Marvarax andSora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
"No, but it will make you deputies." The captain says, his tone still with a hint of strained frustration, but less angered. "And put that out." He nods to the produced flame.
"It's no secret everything's gone to the pits." The captain explains. "That, out there." He nods to the direction the group assumes the outer city lies. "Those refugees. It's stoking fear into the citizens here. They're thinking Baldur's Gate is gonna suffer the same fate as their holier-than-thou city." He says that last part with a bit of disdain. As most people know, there is a somewhat unfriendly rivalry between Baldur's Gate and the Holy City up the river. "Elturguard... Apparently all that's left is a large hole in the ground. The Grand Duke, Ulder Ravenguard, was present. Some sort of diplomatic mission to their city. Soon as he's comfy in there to shake hands it all disappears. Coincidence?" He looks around the group to view their reactions to the news.
"So the Grand Duke is missing, some knights of Elturgard, Hellriders they're calling themselves, managed to escape its destruction and are blaming us for this!" He mutters some explicit comments under his breath. "Saying we're responsible for Elturel's downfall, nothing but rabble-rousing and warmongering. They're being arrested on sight, there's managing the refugees, smugglers trying to get good down the river in the confusion, we're run thin. That's where you come in." He leans back in his chair. "As a captain of the Flaming Fist it is within my powers to conscript any and all adventurers that are within the city confines, and it looks like we've got a mutual reason to get in. You wanna get back to your homes and business, and I need some spare hands to look into another problem. Any of you know about the Dead Three?"
(For ease, I'm going to apply spoilers and a knowledge check for such things.)
(DC 10 History check or local of Baldur's Gate to know about Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard)
Ulder Ravengard is the fearless leader of The Flaming Fist mercenary company, and Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate. As the Grand Duke, he is the leader of the ruling council of the city, and responsible for the greater matters of the city's state and concerns. When he was elevated to Grand Duke, he refused to relinquish the role of head of The Flaming Fist, making him politically powerful, to some disdain of the locals. Despite that, he is a level head upon the city's council and has managed to keep the city under control during his rule.
(DC 10 Religion check, advantage if from Baldur's Gate to know about The Dead Three)
The Dead Three is a cult that consist of worship of three gods:
Bane, lord of tyranny
Myrkul, lord of bones
Bhaal, lord of murder
These three deities have had a hold within Baldur's Gate for many generations, including incidents involving offspring of the Bhaal's murdering one another in the street in broad daylight. While their worship within the walls is not illegal, their actions outside of law are not. One can worship a god of murder, but the act of murder is still going to get the Flaming Fist coming after you.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Quietly from the shadows in the corner comes a soft sigh as Khaffosi and the Captain start to proverbially measure their manhoods. Moving in to the light cast by his companions flaming fist and the torches around the room is the last member of the group. The Tabaxi monk is covered in short black fur and only wears a pair of dusty worn breeches, and a belt adorned with a few pouches and his ornate 'cheese knife' which is just a wickedly curved dagger. His emerald green eyes sparkle in the light as he approaches the Captain.
"People go missing all the time, in fact my friend and I here are quite good at finding them....for a fee. Perhaps however in this case we can waive our fee in exchange for passage in to the city where we can help escort our fallen comrade to Lord Kelemvor sooner than later."
[Religion: 2]
"I am unfamiliar with these Dead Three you speak of however."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Axandros grew even more annoyed as he heard the conditions on which he was allowed into the city. In an earlier life back in Waterdeep only a select few would have dared to talk to him like that. He couldn't stand the fact of having so little influence in this wretched city.
He silently watched as the scenes unfolded before his incredulous eyes. What ever the Gensai was trying to achieve, it most probably would get him hurt and the wizard decided that it was certainly for the best. Maybe a good beating would get some sense into his head.
Altgough he hated the fact that the Flaming Fist practically owned him now for all intents and purposes, this Organisation had considerable influence in Baldur's Gate and Axandros would play his cards to the best of his abilities to carve out some power and influence for himself.
"Good Sir, I most definitely don't speak for these... people! But I want to assure you that I appreciate the chance to assist the Flaming Fist in their task to protect the city of Baldur's Gate!", the wizard announced to the captain.
Listening to the officer explaining the situation in the city made him all the more certain that to assist Flaming Fist was the right decision. Chaos is a ladder after all as an acquaintance once pointed out to him.
Welcome to the Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus module campaign as run by Pokepaladdy!
The following players as part of this campaign:
Below Spoiler will hold info about rules clarifications etc. when needed for later reference.
Coming soon...
<Reserved>
Prelude
It had been two days down the the incident. Six travellers travel back towards the large city of Baldur's Gate, located on the western coast of the continent of Faerûn. Alongside them they have a single draft horse, atop it is a bundled and tied seventh figure, one that some of them knew well, whereas others did not. The death of Caldwell "Nine Lives" Jackson, bounty hunter extraordinaire was something that left an impact on all travelling in this group. Their steps leading along the coast way, a long path that leads to their destination where they plan to either find one to restore Nine Lives to life, or to bury him. Ironic as his name may seem, he was quite an upstanding and good man, ready to capture those whom slipped through the grasp of the law.
The second night came and went, the scent of Caldwell's body beginning to be noticeable by the travellers by the third. It seemed the herbs given to them by the barkeep at the way station were not as potent as previously advertised. However, the sights of the great city come into view an hour before noon. However, so does the sight of something else of interest. A large amount of pitched tents and a proverbial shanty town seems to have grown around The Basilisk Gate, hundreds, maybe more, folk seemingly camped outside the enormous gate that is usually open for all trade and needs. Today these gates are firmly shut, with a lot of uproar from the outside.
Upon getting closer, the party discovers these folk are all refugees, travellers from the city of Elturgard, the shining beacon upon the Chondathan River and rival sister city to Baldur's Gate, claiming the city had fallen. It does not take long to find many of these folk are hungry, scared, and panicked about what has just happened to them. The party, on the other hand, have other problems at hand, that being whether or not they can enter into Baldur's Gate itself.
Marching down the lines are a squadron of twelve armed and intimidating looking folk, all in formation. To the uninitiated, The Flaming Fist mercenary group may look like soldiers or a guard. For those whom have previously ventured into Baldur's Gate know that The Flaming Fist are cold hearted sellswords, paid by the higher ups within the city to attempt to keep some modicum of peace in these trying times. They have power to conscript, arrest, and kill within the city's parameters.
"Hey, you!" One of the guards points out the group, the other eleven guards take this one's lead. "We know you, bounty hunters, right?" He addresses a couple of the group. "Well your luck's rising, you and your friends here are gonna get a pass into the city." There are several voices of complaint and concernt from the civilians around the Outer City and the shanty town. "Shut your holes before we carve you some new ones!" The man calls at them, quietening them down. "You lot, come with me. Oh, and bring the horse. We could do with a bonus on Livestock restriction."
Chapter 1: A Tale of Two Cities
The party begin their story within the holding hall at the entrance of The Basilisk Gate. Their horse and Nine Lives taken off to an unknown location. The rest of their equipment has been left with themselves, allowing for them, no attempts to remove arms or armaments was made, they were just told to wait in this hall. Ahead of them they find a large wooden table, with eight chairs made of the same material placed with two on either side.
"The captain will be here in a moment." The guard who spotted the group beforehand tells them before leaving the room. "He's on a short fuse after this tenday, so keep it civil." With that the group are left to their own devices in this room.
(Feel free to introduce your characters. Perhaps a brief description of what they look like and something the party will already know about them.)
Alea sat there with a calm demeanor planted on her face, her jet short jet black military style hair swayed a bit as she let out a small sigh. The fighters face has a few small scars from some scuffles but nothing to noticeable, her eyes where naturally a bit more narrow as her blue iris looked forward with a calm and focused gaze, hiding the nervousness she felt in this moment. Her body was covered with a set of metallic plate armor covering most of her body, the armor was covered in minor scratches but was still in good condition, an insignia of a golden eagle with outstretched wings laid on its center. Within Alea’s small bag under her Tasset holding both her coins and an insignia showing that she was a member of the watch.
Marvarax and Sora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
The moment the group had been lead into the hall, Axandros rushed towards one of the chairs placed around the wooden table. He was tired of standing, running and everything in between ween. The last few days had proved rather tiresome for someone not used to travel such distances on foot and the human wizard now slouching atop his new favorite chair definitely wasn't used to this. The greying and combed back hair made him look older than his thirty-five years he had on his back. His icy grey eyes normally always sharp and observant were as weary as the rest of the body. He wore a pristine black robe that, admittedly, had seen better days and which beared the family's crest in gold lines across the right chest. A diving falcon, which also adorned the tome that hung around his shoulder. "Who in the Nine Hells do I have to talk to in order to get something to drink?", he exclaimed as if he talked to the Flaming Fist beyond the door and one could tell that the wizard assumed that his wishes were heeded.
Despite his nervousness Pogo gave the guard a smile and sits down at the table "Thank you so much kind sir, I greatly appreciate the advi..." Trailing off as he looks to see the guard has already exited the room. "Ah, Lliira bless him, he must be very busy and in need of a little joy" He adds to really to himself as he softly rubs his symbol of his goddess with his calloused fingers. At first glance most wouldn't assume he was a priest of the goddess of joy, he wore damaged slightly rusty chain mail. Equipped with a mace that has seen better days and a dingy shield. He would forgive most for thinking he was some third rate mercenary but despite his outward appearance once he opened his mouth it was obvious he was a devout follower of Lliira. He let his symbol fall back to it's place around his neck before looking around taking the others in. His ever present smile fades as he looks over Arrow and Khaffosi, feeling guilty over his part in their friends death. He feels like he should say something but he is not sure what so instead he leans back and looks to the ceiling and whispers to himself "Lliira bless me as well"
Khaffosi is a thick and squat clean shaven human mix with auburn hair cut in a military style. His ashen grey skin often turns a shade of red as his temper rises, making him look flustered and winded, like a sedentary acolyte forced to march up several flights of stairs. However, when really angry, the color is often accompanied by wisps of smoke.
Khaffosi doesn't wear armor and his clothes look stylish and fit properly on his squat frame, albeit currently they are dirty from a couple days on the road. If he wasn't armed with well worn, well cared for and well used axes, including a giant greataxe, no one would think him willing to submit such nice clothing to a brawl.
After a day of travelling on the road, the party has become well aware of Khaffosi's temper. Any mention of the tragedy of Nine Lives immediately gets Khaffosi's color to rise, and ignoring Khaffosi's suggestion to "Shut the F' up!" causes the smoke to appear. Any provocation at that point causes Khaffosi to lose his shit. There are several trees between Baldur's Gate and the way station they were returning from that were chopped down for no better reason than to give Khaffosi a target to vent his rage.
Being separated from Nine Lives and the valuable horse, and thrust into this room to sit and wait on someone else's whim already has smoke rising around Khaffosi. If the guard had it true that the captain has a short fuse, everyone knows to quickly defuse the situation or stand out of the way.
Khaffosi sits in a chair that is slowly smoldering from the heat of his body. He is wringing his hands around the haft of the greataxe, looking like he needs to swing it to calm down some. "If any of you say anything about what happened..."
Alea let out a small groan as she looked over at Khaffosi before shaking her head looking at the rage filled man "I don't plan on telling anyone, this is important, and you need to learn to control your emotions better, they'll cloud your judgement in a fight or get you into one" she said before tapping the sword that rested at her hips "if you'd really like maybe I could help you train" she offered while giving him a serious almost blank look
Marvarax and Sora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
Axandros gave the gensai an especially annoyed look, given that he was the one who started talking about it. "Listen to her. If you can't control yourself, you are the liability here.", he told Khaffosi. He hated that he now somehow depended on this motley group he barely knew, let alone trusted, to keep their mouths shut about the events that transpired a few days. "I can't believe that I am still waiting for my water.", he grunted frustrated.
After another couple of agonisingly quiet minutes, there is the sound of footfalls outside the door, followed by the door opening. Stepping into the room is a human man in splint mail armour, a captain's badge of The Flaming Fist. He takes a chair and plants himself onto it, staring at the group. "Well then..." The captain says. "This is the group my men conscript? Guess it could be worse." He sighs. "Well then, let's get to it; you want back into the city. I need extra hands to deal with a problem. You work for me for a bit, you've got your passage in, bypassing that whole crises outside. Understand? You don't help, I either chuck you out into the cold. You try anything funny, I exact my right to kick your asses."
(Spoiler shows the Flaming Fist Coat of Arms for those interested)
Khaffosi immediately stands up, kocking the chair he was sitting in back and over. "I am a citizen of Baldur's Gate, not a beggar or a refugee!"
"And Baldur's Gate is under MARTIAL LAW." The captain speaks over Khaffosi. "So you work for me now, understand?"
Alea let out a small sigh as she looked over at the flaming fist member, she didn’t show it but she did not enjoy working for this mercenary, but for the time being she would have to. Alea then got up and put a hand on Khaffosi’s shoulder, holding it as she turned to the captain “what sort of job did you have in mind” she said trying to hold in her distaste
Marvarax and Sora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
As angry as Khaffosi is, a thought causes him to grin, "Does that make me a flaming fist?" he asks, as he squeezes his hand into a fist and casts produce flame while holding it out towards the Captain.
Alea squeezes Khaddosi’s shoulder a bit tighter and shakes her head, she wasn’t going to let him die making a fool of himself in front of the cities more powerful faction
Marvarax and Sora (Dragonborn) The retired fighter and WIP scholar - Glory
Brythel(Dwarf), The dwarf with a gun - survival at sea
Jaylin(Human), Paladin of Lathander's Ancient ways - The Seven Saints (Azura Claw)
Urselles(Goblin), Cleric of Eldath- The Wizard's challenge
Viclas Tyrin(Half Elf), Student of the Elven arts- Indrafatmoko's Defiance in Phlan
"No, but it will make you deputies." The captain says, his tone still with a hint of strained frustration, but less angered. "And put that out." He nods to the produced flame.
"It's no secret everything's gone to the pits." The captain explains. "That, out there." He nods to the direction the group assumes the outer city lies. "Those refugees. It's stoking fear into the citizens here. They're thinking Baldur's Gate is gonna suffer the same fate as their holier-than-thou city." He says that last part with a bit of disdain. As most people know, there is a somewhat unfriendly rivalry between Baldur's Gate and the Holy City up the river. "Elturguard... Apparently all that's left is a large hole in the ground. The Grand Duke, Ulder Ravenguard, was present. Some sort of diplomatic mission to their city. Soon as he's comfy in there to shake hands it all disappears. Coincidence?" He looks around the group to view their reactions to the news.
"So the Grand Duke is missing, some knights of Elturgard, Hellriders they're calling themselves, managed to escape its destruction and are blaming us for this!" He mutters some explicit comments under his breath. "Saying we're responsible for Elturel's downfall, nothing but rabble-rousing and warmongering. They're being arrested on sight, there's managing the refugees, smugglers trying to get good down the river in the confusion, we're run thin. That's where you come in." He leans back in his chair. "As a captain of the Flaming Fist it is within my powers to conscript any and all adventurers that are within the city confines, and it looks like we've got a mutual reason to get in. You wanna get back to your homes and business, and I need some spare hands to look into another problem. Any of you know about the Dead Three?"
(For ease, I'm going to apply spoilers and a knowledge check for such things.)
(DC 10 History check or local of Baldur's Gate to know about Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard)
Ulder Ravengard is the fearless leader of The Flaming Fist mercenary company, and Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate. As the Grand Duke, he is the leader of the ruling council of the city, and responsible for the greater matters of the city's state and concerns. When he was elevated to Grand Duke, he refused to relinquish the role of head of The Flaming Fist, making him politically powerful, to some disdain of the locals. Despite that, he is a level head upon the city's council and has managed to keep the city under control during his rule.
(DC 10 Religion check, advantage if from Baldur's Gate to know about The Dead Three)
The Dead Three is a cult that consist of worship of three gods:
These three deities have had a hold within Baldur's Gate for many generations, including incidents involving offspring of the Bhaal's murdering one another in the street in broad daylight. While their worship within the walls is not illegal, their actions outside of law are not. One can worship a god of murder, but the act of murder is still going to get the Flaming Fist coming after you.
Quietly from the shadows in the corner comes a soft sigh as Khaffosi and the Captain start to proverbially measure their manhoods. Moving in to the light cast by his companions flaming fist and the torches around the room is the last member of the group. The Tabaxi monk is covered in short black fur and only wears a pair of dusty worn breeches, and a belt adorned with a few pouches and his ornate 'cheese knife' which is just a wickedly curved dagger. His emerald green eyes sparkle in the light as he approaches the Captain.
"People go missing all the time, in fact my friend and I here are quite good at finding them....for a fee. Perhaps however in this case we can waive our fee in exchange for passage in to the city where we can help escort our fallen comrade to Lord Kelemvor sooner than later."
[Religion: 2]
"I am unfamiliar with these Dead Three you speak of however."
Skameros - Bugbear Barbarian - Out of the Abyss - By Kerrec
Follow your Arrow where it Points - Tabaxi Monk - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
Citron Pumpkinfoam - Fairy Monk - Project Point: Team Longsword
History check: 7
Religion check: 19
Axandros grew even more annoyed as he heard the conditions on which he was allowed into the city. In an earlier life back in Waterdeep only a select few would have dared to talk to him like that. He couldn't stand the fact of having so little influence in this wretched city.
He silently watched as the scenes unfolded before his incredulous eyes. What ever the Gensai was trying to achieve, it most probably would get him hurt and the wizard decided that it was certainly for the best. Maybe a good beating would get some sense into his head.
Altgough he hated the fact that the Flaming Fist practically owned him now for all intents and purposes, this Organisation had considerable influence in Baldur's Gate and Axandros would play his cards to the best of his abilities to carve out some power and influence for himself.
"Good Sir, I most definitely don't speak for these... people! But I want to assure you that I appreciate the chance to assist the Flaming Fist in their task to protect the city of Baldur's Gate!", the wizard announced to the captain.
History: 18
Religion: 25
Listening to the officer explaining the situation in the city made him all the more certain that to assist Flaming Fist was the right decision. Chaos is a ladder after all as an acquaintance once pointed out to him.