The world of the Forgotten Realms is one of high fantasy, populated by elves, dwarves, halflings, humans, and other folk. In the Realms, knights dare the crypts of the fallen dwarf kings of Delzoun, seeking glory and treasure. Rogues prowl the dark alleyways of teeming cities such as Neverwinter and Baldur’s Gate. Clerics in the service of gods wield mace and spell, questing against the terrifying powers that threaten the land. Wizards plunder the ruins of the fallen Netherese empire, delving into secrets too dark for the light of day. Bards sing of kings, queens, heroes, and tyrants who died long ago.
On the roads and rivers of the Realms travel minstrels and peddlers, merchants and guards, soldiers and sailors. Steel-hearted adventurers from backcountry farmsteads and sleepy villages follow tales of strange, glorious, faraway places. Good maps and clear trails can take even an inexperienced youth with dreams of glory far across the world, but these paths are never safe. Fell magic and deadly monsters are the perils one faces when traveling in the Realms. Even farms and freeholds within a day’s walk of a city can fall prey to monsters, and no place is safe from the sudden wrath of a dragon.
Map of the Sword Coast
The map below shows a region of the Forgotten Realms called the Sword Coast. This is a place of adventure, where daring souls delve into ancient strongholds and explore the ruins of long-lost kingdoms. Amid a lawless wilderness of jagged, snow-capped peaks, alpine forests, bitter winds, and roaming monsters, the coast holds such great bastions of civilization as the city of Neverwinter, in the shadow of the fuming volcano known as Mount Hotenow.
Neverwinter
This city was badly damaged when Mount Hotenow erupted some fifty years ago. Now, the City of Skilled Hands works to rebuild under the watchful eye of its Lord Protector, Dagult Neverember, who rules in the absence of an heir to Neverwinter’s crown. At present, no legitimate heirs to the old Alagondar royal line are known to exist, and many believe that the line is ended. Lord Neverember, taking no chances, quietly pays off or disposes of anyone claiming a connection to the rulers of old.
High Road
This highway hugs the coast, connecting Neverwinter to the coastal cities of Luskan to the north and Waterdeep to the south. For years, the stretch of road south of Neverwinter fell into disuse because of frequent monster attacks. Of late, efforts have been made to keep the road safe, with light patrols of guards on horseback moving between Neverwinter and Leilon.
Triboar Trail
This path south of Neverwinter Wood is the safest route between Neverwinter and the town of Triboar, located in the Dessarin Valley to the east (off the map). The trail is not patrolled, and monster attacks are commonplace.
Sword Mountains
These steep, craggy, snow-capped mountains are home to scattered tribes of orcs as well as other monsters. Icespire Peak is the tallest among them. Their foothills are strewn with the ruins of bygone kingdoms, and more than a few half-forgotten dungeons and tombs.
Kryptgarden Forest
This ancient forest tucked behind the Sword Mountains contains the ruins of bygone dwarven civilizations.
Mere of Dead Men
Travelers on the High Road, which skirts the mere to the east, must resist being lured into this cold and desolate swamp by bobbing will-o’-wisps. Countless adventurers have perished in the mere, drawn by tales of ruined castles half-sunk in the mire.
Welcome to Phandalin
The frontier town of Phandalin is built on the ruins of a much older settlement. Hundreds of years ago, the old Phandalin was a thriving human town whose people were firmly allied with neighboring dwarves and gnomes. Then an orc horde swept through the area and laid waste to the settlement, and Phandalin was abandoned for centuries.
In the last three or four years, settlers from the cities of Neverwinter and Waterdeep have begun the hard work of reclaiming the ruins of Phandalin. The new settlement is home now to farmers, woodcutters, fur traders, and prospectors drawn by stories of gold and platinum in the foothills of the Sword Mountains. The arrival of a white dragon threatens to destroy all that they’ve worked to rebuild.
Map of Phandalin
Stonehill Inn
This modest, two-story roadhouse has six rooms for rent on the upper floor. A bed for the night costs 5 sp, while a meal costs 1 sp. The proprietor is a short, friendly male human named Toblen Stonehill. Toblen is a native of the town of Triboar to the east. He came to Phandalin to prospect, but soon realized that he knew a lot more about running an inn than he did about mining.
Barthen’s Provisions
The shelves of this general store stock most ordinary goods and supplies, including backpacks, bedrolls, rope, and rations. Barthen’s doesn’t stock weapons or armor, but characters can purchase other adventuring gear here, with the exception of items that cost more than 25 gp. The proprietor, Elmar Barthen, is a lean and balding human man of fifty years. He employs a couple of young clerks (Ander and Thistle) who help load and unload wagons.
Lionshield Coster
This building is owned by the Lionshields, a merchant company based in the city of Yartar over a hundred miles to the east. The company ships finished goods to Phandalin and other small settlements throughout the region.
The master of the Phandalin post is a sharp-tongued human woman of thirty-five named Linene Graywind. Linene keeps a supply of armor and weapons, all of which are for sale to interested buyers.
Phandalin Miner’s Exchange
Miners come here to have their valuable finds weighed, measured, and paid out. The exchange also serves as an unofficial records office, registering claims to various streams and excavations around the area. Enough wealth is hidden in the nearby streams and valleys to support a good number of independent prospectors.
The exchange is a great place to meet people who spend a lot of time out and about in the countryside surrounding Phandalin. The guildmaster is a calculating human woman named Halia Thornton.
Shrine of Luck
Phandalin’s only temple is a shrine made of stones taken from the nearby ruins. It is dedicated to Tymora (goddess of luck and good fortune) and is normally in the care of a zealous elf acolyte named Sister Garaele.
Townmaster’s Hall
The townmaster’s hall has sturdy stone walls, a pitched wooden roof, and a bell tower at the back. The job board next to the front door features a sparse number of notices, all written in Common and in the same hand. All the notices on the job board are written by Harbin Wester, Phandalin’s duly appointed townmaster. Harbin is a pompous, middle-aged banker who lives in a house east of the Townmaster’s Hall.
Dragon of Icespire Peak - Campaign 1
The adventure begins...
Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the Townmaster’s Hall, is a job board for adventurers.
Sitting at a center table at Stonehill Inn is a middle aged man with a tankard at one hand and a book at the other. He sits at what's become his table most of the day, every day, slowly drinking and reading his book. Meals come at appropriate times and once the hour draws late he retires up to his room. He's waiting, and has been for some time.
Toblen Stonehill, the proprietor of the inn, has been kindly asked (and tipped well) to direct any who have been inquiring after, or reading the Jobs Board to his table. "His name is Kaemgen McScáth," Toblen would tell any who seemed to fit the bill. "He seems to be looking for others with which to go risk his neck with..."
For his sake, Kaemgen McScáth does his best to keep an eye out the front door of the inn and towards the Jobs Board to try to catch sight of the sort he is looking for himself. The man has the bearing of a noble, straight spine and proper manners at least, and appears to be a few years past his prime, but despite that he is broad shouldered and fit enough to be an imposing figure. Grey streaks his jet black hair which was once artfully cut but is now becoming shaggy, His clothing is sturdy but tailored and he wears a rapier on each of his hips.
Carefully turning a page in his book, Kaemgen looks up and takes in his surroundings. He nods to a local he's come to recognize though they've not conversed, and then he takes another long look out the front door towards the Jobs Board. Someone will come along, he reminds himself. Would be foolish to go it alone and get yourself killed. No coin in that... And with that he bends his head once more to his book and continues reading.
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We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Mr.Dark crouches by the shrine to Tymora, god of luck, tossing a silver coin into the donations box and makes a sign of favor before standing up and looking around the town. Never pass by lady luck and not offer your respects. Something every good soldier knows. He struck a lanky figure in his black leathers as he stood up tall. His black leather pants and jacket were well worn, clinging to his wiry body like a 2nd skin. A rapier was strapped across his back, the handle looked cheap, dented, and scratched. A bandolier hung down across his chest filled with small crossbow bolts and a hand crossbow was hooked on his belt. It looked well used. A whip hung on his other hip. On his back, the rucksack of a soldier was loosely packed. Glancing about the modest town, he spotted a tavern. He strolled across the street, nodding cordially to a woman pulling her young daughter along and tipping his head, offering her a smile that came off as dangerous and creepy. She hurried on, averting her eyes from the man of violence. He shrugged, not much caring. His light steps carried him to the door of Stonehill Inn, which he pushed open and walked through quietly. As his eyes adjusted to the light he took in the room. His eyes scanned the people. No soldiers. That was good.
He walked over to the bar and looked up at the Inn Keeper. His voice had a husky tone to it as he nodded to the keeper, "Afternoon. Room, and some dinner and a drink if you don't mind. And a shave, and a haircut, and a bottle of booze, and a bath, and a wash for my laundry, and maybe point me to the best table to get a game of cards going at." He nodded again, his request made....and plunked down a platinum coin on the bar top with a thud.
He leaned back agains the bar to scan the room, assuming everything would be taken care of, and sighed a pleased smile to himself. Life was good.
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What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
The sound of a carriage pulling up outside the tavern is almost drowned out by the loud and slightly high-pitched voice of one of its passengers. The voice seems to be speaking excitedly about the details of a recent conversation they had with some lord or lady of some city or another, but there is no answering reply from the listener. After requesting a hand to alight from the carriage, the voice asks if this is where they will be stopping for the night, and is given an affirmative grunt. After some bustling a short, dirty and rather flustered-looking commoner enters the tavern, lugging several wooden cases, which are placed roughly on the floor. He no sooner exits than he is replaced by another figure - the contrast between the two like night and day.
A tall, young male stands in the doorway, a full suit of chainmail peeking out underneath a rich tunic of scarlet trimmed with gold, and finished with satin gloves and leggings. It is a finery that is starkly out-of-place in this backwater mining town. The figure grips a long staff wrapped with red leather, which touches the ground with a metallic clink. On his back is a small, round, steel shield, largely unadorned (save for a woman's face at the top and with red trim like thick lustrous red hair emanating from the head and framing the circumference) but impeccably polished to an almost glassy finish, so much that any observer can see their own visage clearly reflected back to them.
But most noticeable of all are his perfectly-sculpted slightly elven facial features. The delicate cheek-bones, the angle of the chin, the flawless nose, the smooth pale skin - it is a face that would turn heads even in the finest company, and is framed with golden shoulder-length hair, which shimmers and waves like a gilded waterfall with every turn of his head as he surveys the room and its occupants. A look of some disappointment crosses his countenance (lessened only a little as his gaze passes over Kaemgen) but it is soon replaced with a resolute expression as he glides into the room with practiced grace... until the edge of his robe snags on a loose floorboard and he stumbles forwards. But regaining his footing and his composure as quickly as he can, he approaches the proprietor. Hansel Moonflower, from Waterdeep. Your best room, if you will, he says confidently, with a slightly effeminate voice. But please allow me to inspect it before I deposit my accoutrements, that I may ensure it is up to my standard.
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How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Mr.Dark smiled broadly at the newcomer before him and looked up, whispering a silent thank you to Tymora for his luck at finding his next source of income. He leaned over to the dandy and said in his most pleasant voice, "Howdy there. It's a small town, it'll likely take 'em some time to find somethin....inspection worthy here." He smiles and winks at the man behind the counter as if he'd just complimented him rather than insulted him, then resumed talking, "Hows bout we find a seat at that empty table over there and kill the time with a bit o light entertainment." He holds up a deck of cards, which he splits and reshuffles with one hand. He raises an eyebrow with a double bob to finish off his offer.
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What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Kaemgen McScáth eyed the lanky, black leather clad figure off and on for a long little while, assessing the figure.He looked like he could be the sort he was after - capable, skilled, deadly.Still, he also had the demeanor of a rattlesnake.Oh, it was nothing he could pick out about the man, precisely… just the air of coiled danger that could strike at anything at any time.Before Kaemgen could decide whether to approach him or not, a much more appropriately clad figure entered the inn.
At first glance, anyway.
This new figure looked more ready for a fight and carried themselves as if more than capable.If one overlooked the fact that practically tripped over their own accoutrements.If nothing else, they seemed the more trustworthy of the two.
Kaemgen watched the human and the elf come together and begin a discourse.It was now or never, he figured.Best to make their acquaintance before they made a pact between themselves and decided they needed no extras.
Placing a bookmark and closing the book he had been reading, Kaemgen stood and approached the pair, clearing his throat as he neared so as to get their attention.
“Pardon the intrusion, but I am Kaemgen McScáth,” he said with an air of the name meaning something.“The pair of you do not appear to be locals.As such I am curious as to your intentions.It’s not my intent to pry into your business but rather…”
Kaemgen found himself at a loss for a moment.He wasn’t quite sure how to say it.Or perhaps just not comfortable doing so.“Well if there was an intention to slay this dragon that has been rumored… I would be up for assistance by that endeavor.”
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We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
The man in black leather let out a "pfffff" from between his lips, and a half laugh. "What?! Only if by slay the dragon you are referring to the the Red Dragon in a game of Dragon Ante." He holds up the cards, glancing at Kaemgen...assessing his approach and initial words, and concludes the man couldn't bluff his way out a wet paper bag.....and says, "Why don't we discuss this....very heroic....mission you have while we play? I find discussing such heavy topics over cards makes everything better."
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What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Hansel looks at the darkly-dressed man that just greeted him with barely-disguised derision, taking in his scruffy outfit with a slow top-to-bottom glance, and then turns his face away as he replies to the first statement: Well, gods willing, it will only be for one night, then on to Neverwinter. Then as the man persists with his efforts to be friendly, Hansel sighs, turns back with another appraising glance, and says: Hmm. Rustic customs and rural pastimes - I confess I am unacquainted. Perhaps it would make a satisfactory diversion to pass the hours, if you have the patience to teach me.
It is about here that the well-dressed gentleman from the corner approaches and introduces himself as Kaemgen. Following the black-clad man's reply, Hansel says to Kaemgen: My intentions, if it please you, sir, are to make haste to Neverwinter and promulgate the ideas of the goddess Sune, but I confess her influence is sorely lacking in these parts also. I can assure you that the slaying of dragons is rather remote on my itinerary. You sir, if I may, appear to be a man of some taste, however. Perhaps you might regale us with the particulars of your dragon-slaying objectives while we indulge this good fellow's invitation for some light amusement.
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How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
As soon as Kaemgen finishes speaking the door bursts open with a BANG! In strides a perfectly average looking human male wearing finely made clothes that seem to be a little largely than they need to be.
He stands at the entranceway for a moment and surveys the room. Seeming looking for someone. After a moment or two walks towards the trio of people gathered at the bar/counter. “Pardon me, I’m looking for a Mr. McScáth. Does anyone know where I might find him?”
The man wearing worn black leather puts up his hand, "Oh good. We really do need four to play. Good sir, I can certainly direct you to Mr.McScath, but if you will, first you must join us for a game of cards, this way. I insist!"
Expecting everyone to follow, the slim warrior walks over to the nearest table. He pulls out a chair for himself, then motions to the other three chairs and smiles at the men at the bar. He pulls out his chair and sits down, one leg swinging up to rest across the other knee. He begins shuffling the cards...and as the others presumably move over to him he says, "Alright, so, for my friend here, whom it is his first time gentlemen....so, you both know what that means. Prepare to lose all our money to his beginners luck. Anyway, three-dragon ante is the game. Lets set buy-in at a humble 1 silver, just till he gets the hang of things, shall we?" He begins laying out cards on the table and explaining the rules to Hansel. As he does so he nods to the newcomer, "So, you can call me Mr.Dark. Apologies, it was a nickname from my army days and it sorta stuck. This here fella with the chiseled chin bones is Hansel, and over here we got Kam. Sorry, what was your name there fella? Oh, and before we talk bout this McScath fella yer lookin fer, Kam here is gunna tell us a story bout dragon huntin!"
The cards are laid out on the table and Mr.Dark tosses a silver coin into the middle of the table.
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What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
"Ah yes, well... My apologies. I'm afraid my days of playing games of chance are behind me for a while," Kaemgen says after being hustled over to the table but before taking a seat.
"And yes, I am Kaemgen McScáth," he says distractedly, looking over to the new comer. "How can I help you?"
Still feeling the lure of Mr. Dark's quick words and fait accompli attitude, Kaemgen holds his hands up in an apologetic manner and steps back away from the table. "Really, sorry guys. My coin purse is too empty for even a friendly game. It's why I was waiting to hopefully join some others looking to take some risks to earn some coin, win some fortunes and all that. Thought perhaps you looked the type and that was why you were here... Apologies."
Doing his best not to slink back to the table he had been occupying, Kaemgen nods in it's direction to the gentleman who had recently burst in. "Was there something you needed with me?"
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We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Mr.Dark holds up his hands in mock betrayal, with a look on his face that says, "come on, what's a guy gotta do?!" ...and then says out loud, "Come on, what's a guy gotta do!?" He sighs. "You know, I heard the dragon was actually just an overgrown kobold who painted himself white. But that he's got a lot of treasure still. Just keeps the stories goin to keep people away. Course you seen a pack of kobolds fight? It's a wonder they ain't taken over the world. Gotta keep 'em at range and take 'em down. They swarm ya and yer done for. Anyway....sir...new sir...sit here, play some cards with us, while you talk to this Kam fella. We can make due with three and chattin while playin is really the only way to chat properly."
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What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
A mysterious figure in a dark, hooded cloak strides up wearily to the job board Kaemgen McScáth had been watching like a hawk a scant few minutes earlier. The faint bulk of sturdy traveling clothes and light armor of some kind modified his silhouette, but no weapons were visible on the outside of his cloak, unless you considered the sturdy pack to be a potential bludgeoning device.
The figure focuses on flyers describing the available jobs, then his head tilts slightly to one side as he picks up noises coming from the Stonehill Inn a few doors away. A glint of golden scales on the side of his face reflects the late afternoon sun, and he turns fully that way. Having read what jobs there were available, the hooded figure turns and moves towards the inn, his scaled face once again hidden in shadow. Listening to the rising hubbub as patrons came in for their evening ale, Auric wondered what reception he might receive here, pausing just outside the threshold of the establishment.
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Gerrard Feldren - Human Noble in Ghosts of Saltmarsh
Kerric Brightblade - Elven Warrior in "Apocalypse"
“I’m happy enough to watch and talk,” Kaemgen replies, grabbing his drink and book from his table then returning to stand behind a chair at the proposed game table. “A Kobold, you say,” Kaemgen muses. “That would be funny as all. They can be quite tricky but it’d take more than some white paint to convince anyone they were a dragon.”
“Maybe if three climbed into a dragon suit?”
“A wild Warren of Kobolds can indeed be tricky. Still, better than goblins. At least you can negotiate with kobolds and expect them to keep their word…”
Kaemgen would be kicking himself for missing the new stranger who seemed interested in the jobs board, but this Mr.Dark did seem to keep his attention. He’d even forgotten about the man who came asking for him by name…
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We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Oh, well that's four then. You said we can play with four, no?Hansel asks hopefully, eager to learn the rules of the game, and waiting for Kaemgen and Scott to take a seat. He then takes a long appraising look at the newcomer, examining his outfit with an expression of tacit approval, before saying: Well, it would seem you have quite the responsibility, sir. Your charge seems intent on slaying a dragon.
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How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Scott adjusts his collar, visibly uncomfortable at the notion of dragons. Looking directly at Kaemgen, “Perhaps it would be better sir if you started with something a bit easier to manage. Surely there’s a post on the job board I passed on our way in that the four of us could handle together...”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Auric:
Almost imperceptibly, the figure's head twitches to the left at the mention of dragons. Still shrouded in his long cloak, he decides to move into the bustling inn. Not wanting to draw any undue attention, Auric glides unobtrusively to an out-of-the-way table and sits down, trying to assess the situation with these folk before inserting himself into the equation..."Are they braggarts, or true adventurers? Perhaps that is not mutually exclusive..." he thinks with a hint of smoke escaping his left nostril. Sitting quietly, he observes and considers.
Perception: 19
Insight: 14
No real game effect for the rolls, just to give me some RP ammunition. Feel free to let me know something about your character if you like if you feel the roll was high enough that Auric would notice it about you.
Also, since he already went by the job board, Auric will have some information that might be useful to the others, once our illustrious DM actually reveals it...No hurry, Ixi!
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Gerrard Feldren - Human Noble in Ghosts of Saltmarsh
Kerric Brightblade - Elven Warrior in "Apocalypse"
Kaemgen turns to this... messenger? giving him advise and scowls. "Who are you? And why are you talking to me??"
Kaemgen McScáth wasn't intending to come off sounding haughty or better than, but having no clue who this newcomer telling him what to do was put him a bit on edge. "Perhaps you should explain yourself or I may take your advise and start with something a bit... mouthier."
Confounded by this impertinent advice giver, distracted by the insistence that he play a game of cards even if with another person's money, Kaemgen never caught a hint of the newest entrant to the inn...
Spolier for Auric...
High perception so you would see Kaemgen McScáth is dressed in fine, if a bit old, clothing and carries a rapier on each hip. He carries himself with a straight spine, a slightly uplifted chin and a general sense of superiority only nobility ever possess, even if they don't particularly want it. He seems a bit old for an adventurer. Fit enough and built for it, perhaps, but no scars or such which would indicate he's really been in the mess before.
Insight not so good but he's not that hard to read - Dude comes from money but likely doesn't have much now... Perhaps looking to find a fortune? *shrug*
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We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Scott brandishes the letter listing the terms of his employment with the McScáth seal on it and hands it to Kaemgen. “I believe this will answer all of your questions...” stated very matter of factly. As if the letter really would explain everything.
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Campaign start: Unknown
The Forgotten Realms
The world of the Forgotten Realms is one of high fantasy, populated by elves, dwarves, halflings, humans, and other folk. In the Realms, knights dare the crypts of the fallen dwarf kings of Delzoun, seeking glory and treasure. Rogues prowl the dark alleyways of teeming cities such as Neverwinter and Baldur’s Gate. Clerics in the service of gods wield mace and spell, questing against the terrifying powers that threaten the land. Wizards plunder the ruins of the fallen Netherese empire, delving into secrets too dark for the light of day. Bards sing of kings, queens, heroes, and tyrants who died long ago.
On the roads and rivers of the Realms travel minstrels and peddlers, merchants and guards, soldiers and sailors. Steel-hearted adventurers from backcountry farmsteads and sleepy villages follow tales of strange, glorious, faraway places. Good maps and clear trails can take even an inexperienced youth with dreams of glory far across the world, but these paths are never safe. Fell magic and deadly monsters are the perils one faces when traveling in the Realms. Even farms and freeholds within a day’s walk of a city can fall prey to monsters, and no place is safe from the sudden wrath of a dragon.
Map of the Sword Coast
The map below shows a region of the Forgotten Realms called the Sword Coast. This is a place of adventure, where daring souls delve into ancient strongholds and explore the ruins of long-lost kingdoms. Amid a lawless wilderness of jagged, snow-capped peaks, alpine forests, bitter winds, and roaming monsters, the coast holds such great bastions of civilization as the city of Neverwinter, in the shadow of the fuming volcano known as Mount Hotenow.
Neverwinter
This city was badly damaged when Mount Hotenow erupted some fifty years ago. Now, the City of Skilled Hands works to rebuild under the watchful eye of its Lord Protector, Dagult Neverember, who rules in the absence of an heir to Neverwinter’s crown. At present, no legitimate heirs to the old Alagondar royal line are known to exist, and many believe that the line is ended. Lord Neverember, taking no chances, quietly pays off or disposes of anyone claiming a connection to the rulers of old.
High Road
This highway hugs the coast, connecting Neverwinter to the coastal cities of Luskan to the north and Waterdeep to the south. For years, the stretch of road south of Neverwinter fell into disuse because of frequent monster attacks. Of late, efforts have been made to keep the road safe, with light patrols of guards on horseback moving between Neverwinter and Leilon.
Triboar Trail
This path south of Neverwinter Wood is the safest route between Neverwinter and the town of Triboar, located in the Dessarin Valley to the east (off the map). The trail is not patrolled, and monster attacks are commonplace.
Sword Mountains
These steep, craggy, snow-capped mountains are home to scattered tribes of orcs as well as other monsters. Icespire Peak is the tallest among them. Their foothills are strewn with the ruins of bygone kingdoms, and more than a few half-forgotten dungeons and tombs.
Kryptgarden Forest
This ancient forest tucked behind the Sword Mountains contains the ruins of bygone dwarven civilizations.
Mere of Dead Men
Travelers on the High Road, which skirts the mere to the east, must resist being lured into this cold and desolate swamp by bobbing will-o’-wisps. Countless adventurers have perished in the mere, drawn by tales of ruined castles half-sunk in the mire.
Welcome to Phandalin
The frontier town of Phandalin is built on the ruins of a much older settlement. Hundreds of years ago, the old Phandalin was a thriving human town whose people were firmly allied with neighboring dwarves and gnomes. Then an orc horde swept through the area and laid waste to the settlement, and Phandalin was abandoned for centuries.
In the last three or four years, settlers from the cities of Neverwinter and Waterdeep have begun the hard work of reclaiming the ruins of Phandalin. The new settlement is home now to farmers, woodcutters, fur traders, and prospectors drawn by stories of gold and platinum in the foothills of the Sword Mountains. The arrival of a white dragon threatens to destroy all that they’ve worked to rebuild.
Map of Phandalin
Stonehill Inn
This modest, two-story roadhouse has six rooms for rent on the upper floor. A bed for the night costs 5 sp, while a meal costs 1 sp. The proprietor is a short, friendly male human named Toblen Stonehill. Toblen is a native of the town of Triboar to the east. He came to Phandalin to prospect, but soon realized that he knew a lot more about running an inn than he did about mining.
Barthen’s Provisions
The shelves of this general store stock most ordinary goods and supplies, including backpacks, bedrolls, rope, and rations. Barthen’s doesn’t stock weapons or armor, but characters can purchase other adventuring gear here, with the exception of items that cost more than 25 gp. The proprietor, Elmar Barthen, is a lean and balding human man of fifty years. He employs a couple of young clerks (Ander and Thistle) who help load and unload wagons.
Lionshield Coster
This building is owned by the Lionshields, a merchant company based in the city of Yartar over a hundred miles to the east. The company ships finished goods to Phandalin and other small settlements throughout the region.
The master of the Phandalin post is a sharp-tongued human woman of thirty-five named Linene Graywind. Linene keeps a supply of armor and weapons, all of which are for sale to interested buyers.
Phandalin Miner’s Exchange
Miners come here to have their valuable finds weighed, measured, and paid out. The exchange also serves as an unofficial records office, registering claims to various streams and excavations around the area. Enough wealth is hidden in the nearby streams and valleys to support a good number of independent prospectors.
The exchange is a great place to meet people who spend a lot of time out and about in the countryside surrounding Phandalin. The guildmaster is a calculating human woman named Halia Thornton.
Shrine of Luck
Phandalin’s only temple is a shrine made of stones taken from the nearby ruins. It is dedicated to Tymora (goddess of luck and good fortune) and is normally in the care of a zealous elf acolyte named Sister Garaele.
Townmaster’s Hall
The townmaster’s hall has sturdy stone walls, a pitched wooden roof, and a bell tower at the back. The job board next to the front door features a sparse number of notices, all written in Common and in the same hand. All the notices on the job board are written by Harbin Wester, Phandalin’s duly appointed townmaster. Harbin is a pompous, middle-aged banker who lives in a house east of the Townmaster’s Hall.
Dragon of Icespire Peak - Campaign 1
The adventure begins...
Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the Townmaster’s Hall, is a job board for adventurers.
just an unstable unicorn.
Sitting at a center table at Stonehill Inn is a middle aged man with a tankard at one hand and a book at the other. He sits at what's become his table most of the day, every day, slowly drinking and reading his book. Meals come at appropriate times and once the hour draws late he retires up to his room. He's waiting, and has been for some time.
Toblen Stonehill, the proprietor of the inn, has been kindly asked (and tipped well) to direct any who have been inquiring after, or reading the Jobs Board to his table. "His name is Kaemgen McScáth," Toblen would tell any who seemed to fit the bill. "He seems to be looking for others with which to go risk his neck with..."
For his sake, Kaemgen McScáth does his best to keep an eye out the front door of the inn and towards the Jobs Board to try to catch sight of the sort he is looking for himself. The man has the bearing of a noble, straight spine and proper manners at least, and appears to be a few years past his prime, but despite that he is broad shouldered and fit enough to be an imposing figure. Grey streaks his jet black hair which was once artfully cut but is now becoming shaggy, His clothing is sturdy but tailored and he wears a rapier on each of his hips.
Carefully turning a page in his book, Kaemgen looks up and takes in his surroundings. He nods to a local he's come to recognize though they've not conversed, and then he takes another long look out the front door towards the Jobs Board. Someone will come along, he reminds himself. Would be foolish to go it alone and get yourself killed. No coin in that... And with that he bends his head once more to his book and continues reading.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Mr.Dark crouches by the shrine to Tymora, god of luck, tossing a silver coin into the donations box and makes a sign of favor before standing up and looking around the town. Never pass by lady luck and not offer your respects. Something every good soldier knows. He struck a lanky figure in his black leathers as he stood up tall. His black leather pants and jacket were well worn, clinging to his wiry body like a 2nd skin. A rapier was strapped across his back, the handle looked cheap, dented, and scratched. A bandolier hung down across his chest filled with small crossbow bolts and a hand crossbow was hooked on his belt. It looked well used. A whip hung on his other hip. On his back, the rucksack of a soldier was loosely packed. Glancing about the modest town, he spotted a tavern. He strolled across the street, nodding cordially to a woman pulling her young daughter along and tipping his head, offering her a smile that came off as dangerous and creepy. She hurried on, averting her eyes from the man of violence. He shrugged, not much caring. His light steps carried him to the door of Stonehill Inn, which he pushed open and walked through quietly. As his eyes adjusted to the light he took in the room. His eyes scanned the people. No soldiers. That was good.
He walked over to the bar and looked up at the Inn Keeper. His voice had a husky tone to it as he nodded to the keeper, "Afternoon. Room, and some dinner and a drink if you don't mind. And a shave, and a haircut, and a bottle of booze, and a bath, and a wash for my laundry, and maybe point me to the best table to get a game of cards going at." He nodded again, his request made....and plunked down a platinum coin on the bar top with a thud.
He leaned back agains the bar to scan the room, assuming everything would be taken care of, and sighed a pleased smile to himself. Life was good.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
The sound of a carriage pulling up outside the tavern is almost drowned out by the loud and slightly high-pitched voice of one of its passengers. The voice seems to be speaking excitedly about the details of a recent conversation they had with some lord or lady of some city or another, but there is no answering reply from the listener. After requesting a hand to alight from the carriage, the voice asks if this is where they will be stopping for the night, and is given an affirmative grunt. After some bustling a short, dirty and rather flustered-looking commoner enters the tavern, lugging several wooden cases, which are placed roughly on the floor. He no sooner exits than he is replaced by another figure - the contrast between the two like night and day.
A tall, young male stands in the doorway, a full suit of chainmail peeking out underneath a rich tunic of scarlet trimmed with gold, and finished with satin gloves and leggings. It is a finery that is starkly out-of-place in this backwater mining town. The figure grips a long staff wrapped with red leather, which touches the ground with a metallic clink. On his back is a small, round, steel shield, largely unadorned (save for a woman's face at the top and with red trim like thick lustrous red hair emanating from the head and framing the circumference) but impeccably polished to an almost glassy finish, so much that any observer can see their own visage clearly reflected back to them.
But most noticeable of all are his perfectly-sculpted slightly elven facial features. The delicate cheek-bones, the angle of the chin, the flawless nose, the smooth pale skin - it is a face that would turn heads even in the finest company, and is framed with golden shoulder-length hair, which shimmers and waves like a gilded waterfall with every turn of his head as he surveys the room and its occupants. A look of some disappointment crosses his countenance (lessened only a little as his gaze passes over Kaemgen) but it is soon replaced with a resolute expression as he glides into the room with practiced grace... until the edge of his robe snags on a loose floorboard and he stumbles forwards. But regaining his footing and his composure as quickly as he can, he approaches the proprietor. Hansel Moonflower, from Waterdeep. Your best room, if you will, he says confidently, with a slightly effeminate voice. But please allow me to inspect it before I deposit my accoutrements, that I may ensure it is up to my standard.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Mr.Dark smiled broadly at the newcomer before him and looked up, whispering a silent thank you to Tymora for his luck at finding his next source of income. He leaned over to the dandy and said in his most pleasant voice, "Howdy there. It's a small town, it'll likely take 'em some time to find somethin....inspection worthy here." He smiles and winks at the man behind the counter as if he'd just complimented him rather than insulted him, then resumed talking, "Hows bout we find a seat at that empty table over there and kill the time with a bit o light entertainment." He holds up a deck of cards, which he splits and reshuffles with one hand. He raises an eyebrow with a double bob to finish off his offer.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Kaemgen McScáth eyed the lanky, black leather clad figure off and on for a long little while, assessing the figure. He looked like he could be the sort he was after - capable, skilled, deadly. Still, he also had the demeanor of a rattlesnake. Oh, it was nothing he could pick out about the man, precisely… just the air of coiled danger that could strike at anything at any time. Before Kaemgen could decide whether to approach him or not, a much more appropriately clad figure entered the inn.
At first glance, anyway.
This new figure looked more ready for a fight and carried themselves as if more than capable. If one overlooked the fact that practically tripped over their own accoutrements. If nothing else, they seemed the more trustworthy of the two.
Kaemgen watched the human and the elf come together and begin a discourse. It was now or never, he figured. Best to make their acquaintance before they made a pact between themselves and decided they needed no extras.
Placing a bookmark and closing the book he had been reading, Kaemgen stood and approached the pair, clearing his throat as he neared so as to get their attention.
“Pardon the intrusion, but I am Kaemgen McScáth,” he said with an air of the name meaning something. “The pair of you do not appear to be locals. As such I am curious as to your intentions. It’s not my intent to pry into your business but rather…”
Kaemgen found himself at a loss for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure how to say it. Or perhaps just not comfortable doing so. “Well if there was an intention to slay this dragon that has been rumored… I would be up for assistance by that endeavor.”
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
The man in black leather let out a "pfffff" from between his lips, and a half laugh. "What?! Only if by slay the dragon you are referring to the the Red Dragon in a game of Dragon Ante." He holds up the cards, glancing at Kaemgen...assessing his approach and initial words, and concludes the man couldn't bluff his way out a wet paper bag.....and says, "Why don't we discuss this....very heroic....mission you have while we play? I find discussing such heavy topics over cards makes everything better."
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Hansel looks at the darkly-dressed man that just greeted him with barely-disguised derision, taking in his scruffy outfit with a slow top-to-bottom glance, and then turns his face away as he replies to the first statement: Well, gods willing, it will only be for one night, then on to Neverwinter. Then as the man persists with his efforts to be friendly, Hansel sighs, turns back with another appraising glance, and says: Hmm. Rustic customs and rural pastimes - I confess I am unacquainted. Perhaps it would make a satisfactory diversion to pass the hours, if you have the patience to teach me.
It is about here that the well-dressed gentleman from the corner approaches and introduces himself as Kaemgen. Following the black-clad man's reply, Hansel says to Kaemgen: My intentions, if it please you, sir, are to make haste to Neverwinter and promulgate the ideas of the goddess Sune, but I confess her influence is sorely lacking in these parts also. I can assure you that the slaying of dragons is rather remote on my itinerary. You sir, if I may, appear to be a man of some taste, however. Perhaps you might regale us with the particulars of your dragon-slaying objectives while we indulge this good fellow's invitation for some light amusement.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
As soon as Kaemgen finishes speaking the door bursts open with a BANG! In strides a perfectly average looking human male wearing finely made clothes that seem to be a little largely than they need to be.
He stands at the entranceway for a moment and surveys the room. Seeming looking for someone. After a moment or two walks towards the trio of people gathered at the bar/counter. “Pardon me, I’m looking for a Mr. McScáth. Does anyone know where I might find him?”
The man wearing worn black leather puts up his hand, "Oh good. We really do need four to play. Good sir, I can certainly direct you to Mr.McScath, but if you will, first you must join us for a game of cards, this way. I insist!"
Expecting everyone to follow, the slim warrior walks over to the nearest table. He pulls out a chair for himself, then motions to the other three chairs and smiles at the men at the bar. He pulls out his chair and sits down, one leg swinging up to rest across the other knee. He begins shuffling the cards...and as the others presumably move over to him he says, "Alright, so, for my friend here, whom it is his first time gentlemen....so, you both know what that means. Prepare to lose all our money to his beginners luck. Anyway, three-dragon ante is the game. Lets set buy-in at a humble 1 silver, just till he gets the hang of things, shall we?" He begins laying out cards on the table and explaining the rules to Hansel. As he does so he nods to the newcomer, "So, you can call me Mr.Dark. Apologies, it was a nickname from my army days and it sorta stuck. This here fella with the chiseled chin bones is Hansel, and over here we got Kam. Sorry, what was your name there fella? Oh, and before we talk bout this McScath fella yer lookin fer, Kam here is gunna tell us a story bout dragon huntin!"
The cards are laid out on the table and Mr.Dark tosses a silver coin into the middle of the table.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
"Ah yes, well... My apologies. I'm afraid my days of playing games of chance are behind me for a while," Kaemgen says after being hustled over to the table but before taking a seat.
"And yes, I am Kaemgen McScáth," he says distractedly, looking over to the new comer. "How can I help you?"
Still feeling the lure of Mr. Dark's quick words and fait accompli attitude, Kaemgen holds his hands up in an apologetic manner and steps back away from the table. "Really, sorry guys. My coin purse is too empty for even a friendly game. It's why I was waiting to hopefully join some others looking to take some risks to earn some coin, win some fortunes and all that. Thought perhaps you looked the type and that was why you were here... Apologies."
Doing his best not to slink back to the table he had been occupying, Kaemgen nods in it's direction to the gentleman who had recently burst in. "Was there something you needed with me?"
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Mr.Dark holds up his hands in mock betrayal, with a look on his face that says, "come on, what's a guy gotta do?!" ...and then says out loud, "Come on, what's a guy gotta do!?" He sighs. "You know, I heard the dragon was actually just an overgrown kobold who painted himself white. But that he's got a lot of treasure still. Just keeps the stories goin to keep people away. Course you seen a pack of kobolds fight? It's a wonder they ain't taken over the world. Gotta keep 'em at range and take 'em down. They swarm ya and yer done for. Anyway....sir...new sir...sit here, play some cards with us, while you talk to this Kam fella. We can make due with three and chattin while playin is really the only way to chat properly."
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Auric:
A mysterious figure in a dark, hooded cloak strides up wearily to the job board Kaemgen McScáth had been watching like a hawk a scant few minutes earlier. The faint bulk of sturdy traveling clothes and light armor of some kind modified his silhouette, but no weapons were visible on the outside of his cloak, unless you considered the sturdy pack to be a potential bludgeoning device.
The figure focuses on flyers describing the available jobs, then his head tilts slightly to one side as he picks up noises coming from the Stonehill Inn a few doors away. A glint of golden scales on the side of his face reflects the late afternoon sun, and he turns fully that way. Having read what jobs there were available, the hooded figure turns and moves towards the inn, his scaled face once again hidden in shadow. Listening to the rising hubbub as patrons came in for their evening ale, Auric wondered what reception he might receive here, pausing just outside the threshold of the establishment.
Gerrard Feldren - Human Noble in Ghosts of Saltmarsh
Kerric Brightblade - Elven Warrior in "Apocalypse"
“I’m happy enough to watch and talk,” Kaemgen replies, grabbing his drink and book from his table then returning to stand behind a chair at the proposed game table.
“A Kobold, you say,” Kaemgen muses. “That would be funny as all. They can be quite tricky but it’d take more than some white paint to convince anyone they were a dragon.”
“Maybe if three climbed into a dragon suit?”
“A wild Warren of Kobolds can indeed be tricky. Still, better than goblins. At least you can negotiate with kobolds and expect them to keep their word…”
Kaemgen would be kicking himself for missing the new stranger who seemed interested in the jobs board, but this Mr.Dark did seem to keep his attention. He’d even forgotten about the man who came asking for him by name…
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
“I’ve been instructed by your brother to keep you safe.” Scott says to Kaemgen though he’s yet to introduce himself.
“I’ll cover our reluctant gambler this time.” He tosses two silver into the middle of the table looking at Kaemgen expectantly.
Oh, well that's four then. You said we can play with four, no? Hansel asks hopefully, eager to learn the rules of the game, and waiting for Kaemgen and Scott to take a seat. He then takes a long appraising look at the newcomer, examining his outfit with an expression of tacit approval, before saying: Well, it would seem you have quite the responsibility, sir. Your charge seems intent on slaying a dragon.
How does a red dragon blow out the candles on its birthday cake?
Scott adjusts his collar, visibly uncomfortable at the notion of dragons. Looking directly at Kaemgen, “Perhaps it would be better sir if you started with something a bit easier to manage. Surely there’s a post on the job board I passed on our way in that the four of us could handle together...”
Auric:
Almost imperceptibly, the figure's head twitches to the left at the mention of dragons. Still shrouded in his long cloak, he decides to move into the bustling inn. Not wanting to draw any undue attention, Auric glides unobtrusively to an out-of-the-way table and sits down, trying to assess the situation with these folk before inserting himself into the equation..."Are they braggarts, or true adventurers? Perhaps that is not mutually exclusive..." he thinks with a hint of smoke escaping his left nostril. Sitting quietly, he observes and considers.
Perception: 19
Insight: 14
No real game effect for the rolls, just to give me some RP ammunition. Feel free to let me know something about your character if you like if you feel the roll was high enough that Auric would notice it about you.
Also, since he already went by the job board, Auric will have some information that might be useful to the others, once our illustrious DM actually reveals it...No hurry, Ixi!
Gerrard Feldren - Human Noble in Ghosts of Saltmarsh
Kerric Brightblade - Elven Warrior in "Apocalypse"
Kaemgen turns to this... messenger? giving him advise and scowls. "Who are you? And why are you talking to me??"
Kaemgen McScáth wasn't intending to come off sounding haughty or better than, but having no clue who this newcomer telling him what to do was put him a bit on edge. "Perhaps you should explain yourself or I may take your advise and start with something a bit... mouthier."
Confounded by this impertinent advice giver, distracted by the insistence that he play a game of cards even if with another person's money, Kaemgen never caught a hint of the newest entrant to the inn...
Spolier for Auric...
High perception so you would see Kaemgen McScáth is dressed in fine, if a bit old, clothing and carries a rapier on each hip. He carries himself with a straight spine, a slightly uplifted chin and a general sense of superiority only nobility ever possess, even if they don't particularly want it. He seems a bit old for an adventurer. Fit enough and built for it, perhaps, but no scars or such which would indicate he's really been in the mess before.
Insight not so good but he's not that hard to read - Dude comes from money but likely doesn't have much now... Perhaps looking to find a fortune? *shrug*
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Scott brandishes the letter listing the terms of his employment with the McScáth seal on it and hands it to Kaemgen. “I believe this will answer all of your questions...” stated very matter of factly. As if the letter really would explain everything.