Hardouin is from the Frost Barbarian lands and has volunteered for Border Wardens of his peoples' close ally, Ratik. He was a skilled sailor, always having the knack of turning wind and tide to his advantage, and a fierce warrior. As a youth he faced down a bear and proudly wears the horrific scar upon his chest as proof of his courage. He is a giant amongst men, standing a good head and a half above most. His thick black beard contrasts with his pale skin and bald head. He is of the Old Faith, and should one care to ask, follows Obad-Hai.
The Frost Barbarians are a strong-willed people, stubborn and chaotic, but honorable and people of their word. They are fine seamen: their longboats are masterpieces of both construction and decoration. They are fearless fighters and suffer privations and hardship without complaint They feast and drink to excess, and have no time for tact or manners. They do not respect book learning or wizards, but they hold their bards (skalds) in very high esteem indeed.
Like his cousin Voria, Hardouin grew up in the vicinity of Djekul. His uncle commanded a longboat and, as soon as he was big enough, he would join the crew on their frequent voyages - providing safe passage for emissaries, escorting trade ships or - the most exciting - conducting raids. On board ship Hardouin felt the full, raw power of nature, waiting to be tapped.
Hardouin's ship had provided transport for an emissary of Ratik traveling to Djekul, recruiting for the Border Wardens from among the ranks of their allies, the fearsome Frost Barbarians. Impressed with Hardouin's obvious strength and skill, he had immediately tried to persuade the young barbarian to join up.
The party, Border Wardens all, are returning from escorting a trade delegation to the Gnomish settlement over the mountains. As they are preparing their evening camp, two of their number fall violently ill. They retrace their steps towards a small town they passed a few miles before, but find that the town itself is suffering a plague. Suspicion points to the water, which flows from a river that passes through the Saber Mines. The remaining wardens set out to the mine to try to discover the source of the taint. On reaching the mine head, they find the encampment is the site of a massacre, apparently perpetrated by goblins. Torn between seeking out the goblins and continuing their mission, they reluctantly agree that they must continue their mission if the townsfolk are to have any chance of survival.
As you look over the abandoned mining buildings the sound of the river emerging from the hillside draws your vision. Hardouin feels the peace he often feels when listening to a river flow, but Voria's sense of peace is shaterred when she notices the motes of purple sparkling above the moving water - the same color as the plague victims, she recalls.
Voria points the motes out to the others "Look over there".
Hardouin pales and his forehead knits, "We have to get to the bottom of this before the whole town perishes. Damn the goblins."
He searches for the mine entrance.
Voria follows, her eyes watching for any potential enemies.
Ilyaas follows behind.
As Ilyaas and the others go down to the camp his detect magic goes off wildly in the direction of the river. Necromancy and Transmutation are weaved together in the water it seems. Definitely not natural.
Ilyaas: "Something has infected the water. It feels like necromany, and I think transmutation".
"Death itself corrupts the water", broods Hardouin.
As your group heads for the mine entrance you all begin to smell the overpowering odor of death emanating from the darkness.
Voria: "Could this get more vile?"
She lights a torch as they walk.
Ilyaas shudders "Don't tempt fate".
Flame emanates from Hardouin's upstretched hand illuminating his path, though it does not appear to scorch his flesh (produce flame).
Where the smells are coming from becomes very apparent as bodies begin to litter the passageway, all with goblin arrows and other wounds. To their credit they did put up a fight. You all can see signs of that, puddles of dried goblin blood, broken goblin weapons etc.
Hardouin presses on grimly, trying to ignore the stench.
His senses seem sublimely connected to his surroundings (natural 20 on perception roll).
Hardouin, you hear smattering of a conversation that you believe is Goblin but you are not quite sure since you don't speak it. It sounds angry and there is laughter.
Hardouin immediately holds his shield arm up to stay the others. Quietly he whispers "Goblin scum ahead - we either have to risk our torches being seen and rush them, or creep up blind"
Voria: "We don't know this mine. We will probably be more likely to fall and break our necks in the darkness".
The team approaches a crossroads in the Mine. a jumble of mining cars block most of the way. the laughter and goblin voices can be head more clearly. apparently around the bend...
Welcome Wardens.
Voria Wildweaver here, goliath druid!
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Ilyaas Pallar, Human Wizard.
“I will take responsibility for what I have done. [...] If must fall, I will rise each time a better man.” ― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer.
Hardouin Bearscar, also a Goliath Druid of the Frost Barbarians.
Hardouin is from the Frost Barbarian lands and has volunteered for Border Wardens of his peoples' close ally, Ratik. He was a skilled sailor, always having the knack of turning wind and tide to his advantage, and a fierce warrior. As a youth he faced down a bear and proudly wears the horrific scar upon his chest as proof of his courage. He is a giant amongst men, standing a good head and a half above most. His thick black beard contrasts with his pale skin and bald head. He is of the Old Faith, and should one care to ask, follows Obad-Hai.
The Frost Barbarians are a strong-willed people, stubborn and chaotic, but honorable and people of their word. They are fine seamen: their longboats are masterpieces of both construction and decoration. They are fearless fighters and suffer privations and hardship without complaint They feast and drink to excess, and have no time for tact or manners. They do not respect book learning or wizards, but they hold their bards (skalds) in very high esteem indeed.
Like his cousin Voria, Hardouin grew up in the vicinity of Djekul. His uncle commanded a longboat and, as soon as he was big enough, he would join the crew on their frequent voyages - providing safe passage for emissaries, escorting trade ships or - the most exciting - conducting raids. On board ship Hardouin felt the full, raw power of nature, waiting to be tapped.
Hardouin's ship had provided transport for an emissary of Ratik traveling to Djekul, recruiting for the Border Wardens from among the ranks of their allies, the fearsome Frost Barbarians. Impressed with Hardouin's obvious strength and skill, he had immediately tried to persuade the young barbarian to join up.
"no use being blind" Ilyaas says, casting light on his staff.
“I will take responsibility for what I have done. [...] If must fall, I will rise each time a better man.” ― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer.
The team approaches a crossroads in the Mine. a jumble of mining cars block most of the way. the laughter and goblin voices can be head more clearly. apparently around the bend...
Ilyaas casts mage armour, then prepares sleep
(Ilyaas and mama chan are cut from the same cloth)
“I will take responsibility for what I have done. [...] If must fall, I will rise each time a better man.” ― Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer.
Voria will try to approach carefully to be able to see how many goblins there are
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
stealth roll please Voria.
Stealth: 15
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means