“Define too hard?” Finn whisper-asks to Tylaerys with a bit of a squint of her eyes. A small shrug later and there’s a smirk upon her face.
Misses Binklesworth pokes her head out of the pouch she’s been riding in and looks over at Cheddar as he talks to Cicero but otherwise behaves herself.
“We’re probably best suited for non-frontline tasks though,” Finn offers after Tylaerys speaks of how capable they are. “More hit and run than stand and fight, wouldn’t you say?” Let’s not get ourselves in over our heads eh?
"Yes, Finn is quite right Sir Frume. We are all here because we want to help but the help we can provide is of best use maybe as investigators and infiltrators rather than storming a secret cult encampment for instance." The young blonde half-elf readily agrees with a nod and a smile.
Jirel slams the butt of her greataxe to the ground to her side, mere cms from Finn’s toes. A low grumbling growl is being suppressed from the Goliath’s core, but is still strong enough to be audible. Her chest rises and falls in practiced breathing as her skin builds with heat from the growing rage, fuelled by her already wounded pride. She hadn’t been capable. The warrior’s slacked on her training since tagging along with these folk. Is she getting soft? Becoming a coward? Self doubt had already been seeded, and she didn’t need Finn to keep sowing it, flaunting her humiliation. Jirel clenches her grip on her weapon. Honey eyes glance at the bard, which was more than a glare. Then when Tylaerys would backpedal to support Finn’s words, her eyes look pained before resetting to a flat expression and correcting her posture. “Speak for yourselves.” Suppressing the urge to spit at their feet, she walks away from them towards the doorway (to prepare for training in the ring).
Tylaerys looks up at Jirel, her eyes going wide with surprise at first over the blonde giantess' reaction. "I'll be back." She says to those at the table with a worried tone and quickly hurries after the goliath, not intending to stop her but to speak to her once they get outside the tavern.
Jirel's standing at attention, waiting outside to follow the knight to the High Hall to check out the melee ring. More hit and run than stand and fight... Words hit hard at unexpected times for a prideful warrior. She was trained to defend against physical blows, not the mental ones. There was this sour pit in her stomach that churned in her shame. Those parts of her, buried deep down, threatened to come up in unchecked fury. If she was going to unleash it, the energy should be spent in a fight. Sparring would do her good to let off some steam.
As she gets outside and finds the blonde giantess standing at attention, Tylaerys draws a quick sigh of relief over Jirel not leaving the team. It would have broken her heart to see Jirel go. She could see the fuming fury in Jirel's honey eyes and hesitated slightly before approaching her, not wanting to make things worse. "I'm...I'm sorry if my words hurt you Jirel, I don't doubt you could storm that encampment, but the rest of us, even Jararaka I think, could not, making us a group more suited to the type of fighting we did in Greenest when we saved those townsfolk, and not on a great battlefield alongside mounted knights." She says, her silvery eyes looking up pleadingly at the goliath, taking her hand for comfort and care. "I know you are a proud one Jirel, and you have every right to be, being who you are. I know what happened in Greenest hurt you, hurt your pride more than anything else I think, but you are still our champion and protector when that next fight comes and we need you Jirel...I need you." She finishes, barely audible.
Finn's eyes go wide and she'd have taken a step back away from Goliath if she wasn't sitting down. As it was she almost tipped the chair over leaning away from her.
"What did I say?" she asked after JIrel had stormed out, looking at the others defensively.
"Training and sparring is fine," Finn explains to Sir Frume after they others have abruptly left. "We'd be happy to join. Though... I could think fo better ways to work off excess energy," she adds giving a look towards the door they other had exited through. "But my point is... We're not the traditional form up in a line and meet the oncoming horde types. We're more... random and haphazard in our works. More outside the box and seat of the pants. That's my point. If I have one..."
Jirel first glances up to the sky for a moment. May the gods forgive her for things getting out of proportion. She reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Tylaerys, I may be thick, but not that thick." She grumbles bringing her hand back down. "Please, even I know I can't storm that 'campment on my own." She looks back to Tylaerys. While she knew she was prideful to a fault, being able to admit it out loud for herself would be a lot easier than being called out on it. But here she was.
"Look." The goliath lets out a deep exhale. "Course, I dun expect everyone teh agree on everythin', an' I'm not sayin' I'm right fer walkin' out like that." She admits, "I'm a bloody wild barbarian fer gods sake. I'm frustrated with bein' associated with running away, backing down, shying away from a challenge, or at least, not bein' able teh face it in a way that's true teh me." She pauses knowing how selfish she may sound. "I know I can't 'win' all the time, an' we all know I can't take on an army. I know I can't do everythin' on my own, an' I sure as hells know I can't save everyone." The blonde pauses to rest her hand on hers.
"I know one day I wish teh free my people. I choose to accept that responsibility an' teh carry the weight of that on my shoulders." She confesses. "Yes, I need to get stronger. But that dun mean I'mma press to be so reckless as teh risk anyone's lives, or expect 'em to do anythin' they dun wanna do." The more she spoke, the more awkward she felt. "I respect individualism an' everyone teh have their voice, an' a choice." Jirel scratches the back of her head. "An' seeing how well we all werk together as a team... I guess I feel passionate... I believe you all are more capable than yous give yerselves credit for." She tries not to chew at her lip. The giantess exhales and pats Tylaerys' hand. "I'm not going teh walk out like that..." She assures. "I'm not gunna be so reckless teh throw my life away either. I want to be strong enough teh protect everyone I care 'bout... but I need teh be patient of the process." By now her face is already flush wish embarrassment. "I'm sorry... I just need teh blow off sum steam sometimes..."
Nonplussed by the half-giant's eruption, Ontharr Frume laughs at Finn's defensive concern. "Hah! That takes me back. If I had a silver for everytime a companion of mine stormed out of a tavern, leaving me to ponder what it was I'd said to set them off... well, I'd have built my own temple to Torm by now. Hah!"
He leads the way out of A Pair of Black Antlers, collecting Tylaerys and Jirel outside.
Taking the scenic route - or at least that's how he describes it - he guides you down thoroughfares of shops and salons and then through rows of charming manor houses belonging to nobles and merchants. You walk almost to the back wall of Elturel, on the north side opposite the river. Then he turns back south, leading you up a gentle slope toward the High Hall atop the bluff. A stream runs down from springs under the castle, and this slope in the center of town is surrounded by parks full of green grass and gardens of fruit trees. The leaves are turning with the onset of autumn, and the view of the city from up here, and the wide plains of the Fields of the Dead beyond is really something. Approaching the castle, a small but thick patch of forest lies outside the gate, perhaps the remnants of a kingswood belonging to whatever figure in ancient history first built this fortress. Overhead, the Companion burns in the sky just overtop of the High Hall.
Inside the main gate, a dozen knights, most in chainmail but some in leathers, spar with wooden swords or partake in archery practice.
As you walk to the castle, Ontharr Frume takes care to question each one of you in detail about the attack on Greenest and the aftermath. It is not with the careful questioning of an inquisitor, but with the exuberant interest of a child eager for tales of wonder and glory. He is particularly interested in talk of the blue dragon, of the different battles you engaged in, and in what you learned of the leadership of this cult and their plans. He asks each of you how the experience impacted you, about any wounds you took, and about your own thoughts about what is motivating these cultists.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Sensing Ontharr Frume's appreciation for a well told tale of derring-do Finn grins and starts to give her unique, bard fueled, version of everything... But side-eyes Jirel and the air kind of goes out of her telling. Instead Finn tells everything she knows and recalls as accurately as she can.
"What motivates these cultists though?" Finn asks as she is summing up her summary of events. "They're nutters. What else? I mean I am not particularly religious myself... But I can at least understand those that are. It makes sense to me even if I disagree. But cultists worshipping dragons who want nothing but to destory and hoard? How is that good for anyone? That I just don't comprehend...."
"Personally though, I should still be sleeping off last night at the Antlers... Or sleeping off last night somewhere, anyway," Finn says. "I'm not a warrior. Not a defender or a savior. I'm an entertainer... A card player... Not really sure why I headed to Greenest with this lot. Or stayed with them after. It's just now...I can't even imagine not having their backs."
As she says the last bit, she says it mostly to Misses Binklesworth whom she has picked up out of the satchel she was resting in. Finn scritches and pets her as she talks rather than looking at her companions...
"I should only be drawing a sword when I'm accused of cheating at cards. This lot? They should have someone more like you guarding their back, ya know?"
Seeming quite relieved at Jirel's words, Tylaerys can't help but throw herself to hug the blonde giantess around the waist, then looking up at her with grateful silvery eyes. "It's okay Jirel." She says quietly, standing like that for a moment, too long perhaps, then stepping back with a blush as the others come out the tavern door. "I promise I will follow you and do what I can to help free your people Jirel when that day comes, if you'll have me." She says quietly, then turning to smile a bit awkwardly to the others, following along the scenic route through Elturel in silence.
"You're certainly very entertaining my friend..."Tylaerys says with a warm smile, putting a gentle and reassuring hand on Finn's shoulder. "...but you are also a hero of Greenest, whether you would admit it or not, and while neither you nor I would fare well on a battle field I think we both can contribute quite a bit in our own way to help the peaceful people of Sword Coast against the madness of this cult. And I agree..." She says, now turning to Sir Frume. "...they are nutters, but very dangerous nutters that truly believe they will share in the power of the dragons when the dragon queen herself ascends, and seeing how they have allies from Thay they certainly pose a great threat to all of Faerûn."She finishes grimly.
Jirel gives no side eye. She stands as she usually does at the back. And the giantess didn't have to do much but move her hands to her sides for one to be able to see the remnants of her battles in Greenest. Sure there were the usual defensive gashes along her forearms, but it was the large fresh scar along her torso left by her duel that was most obvious. The goliath goes to assume that Frume, and any of the others, may have caught at least some of her conversation with Tylaerys which highlighted some of the personal questions he's asked.
As for the cult, only a few things come to mind for Jirel to add/build on Finn and Tylaery's summaries. "They seek power." Perhaps that was a little ironic coming from her. "Unnatural power." Her nose scrunches knowing that it's not very specific, but she tries to point out two things that suck out to her. "Why would they be hoardin' so many prisoners? Guilty an' innocent alike." Surely that couldn't be for a good purpose. And then there was... "I've seen dragonborn, an' battled the half-dragon Langdedrosa, but this was somethin' else entirely." She was referring to the 6' tall figure with milky white scales and a crest reminiscent of a white dragon. It also had set of large wings on its back that look big enough to carry it in flight. There was something entirely unwholesome about its appearance; its eyes are dark sockets with pinpricks of unearthly light glowing from deep within.
Jararaka stands tensely near the door when they go to meet Ontharr Frume, his jolly demeanor throws her off a little. But still, in front of a knight, the potential of being dragged off to work off her crimes, or to death during these dire times, hangs at the back of her head. A run-away could fetch you a pretty penny, if somehow she was important enough to warrant a wanted poster.
So she is of course startled and stands to alert when Jirel walks out, having missed more than half of what was being relayed to Frume. She cranes her head out and decides to not follow when she sees that the giantess did not go far. When Frume seems to not pay her no mind and leads them out and around Elturel, she relaxes a bit and goes along. Sidling up to Jirel on the tail of the group and sensing a similar tenseness, though from an entirely different source, she says breezily with her arms behind her head, "there's always plenty opportunity to brawl and get better. The opportunities will probably find you before you even have to look. And well, now you can use all those feelings in this sparring. And future ass-kicking."
When Frume enquires, she does mention some concerning findings, "this cultist had a journal full of the chromatic dragons, so you could expect that." She also adds some information about the enemies they've faced, the dragon they saw with their own eyes, and some more practical things she remembers. "All of the cultists, all armed and ready to fight and rob. Way too confident about it too. Alliance with the cult makes them bold. I don't know if they are hoarding for themselves or for the dragons. They even loot their own dead." She concludes that with an unimpressed narrowing of eyes, like that loot should've went to her.
"It happened as the others said." He tells the knight. "I don't believe there is enough information to say if this cult is just a group of nutters or something more. They are organized, have a heiryarchy and a yet unrevealed goal, to my mind at least. They have need for slaves or sacrifices. They have an army, of sorts, and did not take food or resources that I know of. They took people. Either they need souls for some Undead hoard, or need to feed "something" or have a need for labor. In each, they have to have some sort of base of operation to work from."
For a second it seems Cheddar has more to say but he falls silent.
Ontharr listens to your stories. You get the impression he had been looking forward to bardic tales of daring-do and heroic battles against evil. Your concise and matter of fact reporting on the events of the Greenest assault take a bit of the spring out of his step. He remains engaged however, asking a few followup questions about the dragon, the half-dragon and the strange white dragon-ish creature. He is quiet the rest of the walk then, deep in thought.
Arriving at the keep, his spirits lift again, his dour mood forgotten. He proposes some light drillwork to get the blood pumping and beat back fear and despair.
He calls four of the knights to the sparring sands. They are dressed in chain and each wields a practice halberd, the blade replaced with a blunted wood axe-head. The weapons afford each of them great reach and they form up in a line opposite you. "Any who wish for some practice, grab a weapon and join me." He selects a wooden great-sword and awaits any volunteers.
Those who wish to participate, select a training weapon:
Wooden Greatsword
Wooden Halberd
Wooden Warhammer
Wooden Longsword
Wooden Shortsword
Warhammers, longswords and shortswords can also be used with a training shield, which is available, if you like. Or you can dual wield or fight with a single handed weapon only, if thats your choice. Once the volunteers have assembled with Ontharr, he asks, "So tell me... how shall we attack these defenders?"
Someone (or more than one of you) suggest a strategy. Then all of you volunteers make three attack rolls (no damage necessary) and make three DEX saves.
Those not inclined to mix it up in the sparring sands, there are also archers and crossbowmen who are happy for a little competitive archery practice. Select from the following:
Shortbow
Longbow
Light Crossbow
Hand Crossbow
Make three attack rolls (no damage rolls necessary).
Those who don't want to participate in either, are free to wander the courtyard and watch.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Finn shrugs and volunteers. She's normally not one to get too into training and practice but Sir Frume seems to be excited about this and she figures it'd be nice to have him on their side. Finn picks a short sword and smiles, perhaps a bit mischievously.
"I say when the ground shakes we rush them!" she says with a wink. If she is not overruled or asked to explain, she'll leave it at that... He plan is that once they are all lined up that she'll first use Thaumaturgy to create a loud dragon's roar coming from behind the defenders (Or to one side, if range is too far.). She will then use it again quickly to cause the ground around the defenders to rumble harmlessly. Then, with them hopefully off balance and their attention elsewhere, she would direct them all to attack!
Attacks - Finn would try to get advantage on the second attack roll by having Misses Binklesworth sneak up on her oponnent and then leap at them with a screech just as Finn attacked (ie provide the help action.)
1) 14
2) 7but with adv 25 (nat 20)
3) 19
Dex Saves - Finn would use Shield on the first, if needed. (adjust however you wish with that...)
1) 15
2) 16
3) 21
. Finn's not really sure feline assistance, or magical shenanigans, will be much appreciated here... But she also figures it best to give Sir Frume some taste of just what the group is all about and playing by the rules isn't neccessarily that.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Seeing the training weapons available, Tylaerys gives the blonde giantess an encouraging smile. "An opportunity to let out some steam perhaps." She says with a warm smile and a wink, then picking up light crossbow and firing it three times in rapid succession at the target across the field.
Jararaka tilts her head at the training equipment. Having usually gotten into fights for livelihood, she is curious to try what seems to her to be play-fight. She picks up a shortsword similar in length to her old blade, as well as a wooden shield. She slings her storm-carved shield onto her back since magic, her very noticeable magic in particular, doesn't seem to play any part of this. Though, she does have to adjust her grip on the unfamiliar and lighter training shield while Finn relays her short strategy- or rather, notice.
When she hears the imitation of a dragon's roar, her spines stand up reflexively, but soon realises what the changeling had meant. Sticking low to the ground, she dives forward to attack the left-most in the line. First holding out the shield in front of her, she attempts to block the long-reach weapons and knock them off-balance while she swipes at the knight's legs.
Attack rolls:
9 athletics check to shove to prone if allowed, otherwise 13 for a normal shortsword attack
20 (if the knight is prone: 20, 9)
14 (if the knight is prone: 14, 17)
Dexterity saves:
15
17
14
(rolls are in campaign log!
the rolls are a bit messy, I forgot shove was an athletics check and just made an attack roll, but the dice rolled 8 and jararaka's athletics is +1)
“Define too hard?” Finn whisper-asks to Tylaerys with a bit of a squint of her eyes. A small shrug later and there’s a smirk upon her face.
Misses Binklesworth pokes her head out of the pouch she’s been riding in and looks over at Cheddar as he talks to Cicero but otherwise behaves herself.
“We’re probably best suited for non-frontline tasks though,” Finn offers after Tylaerys speaks of how capable they are. “More hit and run than stand and fight, wouldn’t you say?” Let’s not get ourselves in over our heads eh?
"Yes, Finn is quite right Sir Frume. We are all here because we want to help but the help we can provide is of best use maybe as investigators and infiltrators rather than storming a secret cult encampment for instance." The young blonde half-elf readily agrees with a nod and a smile.
Jirel slams the butt of her greataxe to the ground to her side, mere cms from Finn’s toes. A low grumbling growl is being suppressed from the Goliath’s core, but is still strong enough to be audible. Her chest rises and falls in practiced breathing as her skin builds with heat from the growing rage, fuelled by her already wounded pride. She hadn’t been capable. The warrior’s slacked on her training since tagging along with these folk. Is she getting soft? Becoming a coward? Self doubt had already been seeded, and she didn’t need Finn to keep sowing it, flaunting her humiliation. Jirel clenches her grip on her weapon. Honey eyes glance at the bard, which was more than a glare. Then when Tylaerys would backpedal to support Finn’s words, her eyes look pained before resetting to a flat expression and correcting her posture. “Speak for yourselves.” Suppressing the urge to spit at their feet, she walks away from them towards the doorway (to prepare for training in the ring).
just an unstable unicorn.
Tylaerys looks up at Jirel, her eyes going wide with surprise at first over the blonde giantess' reaction. "I'll be back." She says to those at the table with a worried tone and quickly hurries after the goliath, not intending to stop her but to speak to her once they get outside the tavern.
Jirel's standing at attention, waiting outside to follow the knight to the High Hall to check out the melee ring. More hit and run than stand and fight... Words hit hard at unexpected times for a prideful warrior. She was trained to defend against physical blows, not the mental ones. There was this sour pit in her stomach that churned in her shame. Those parts of her, buried deep down, threatened to come up in unchecked fury. If she was going to unleash it, the energy should be spent in a fight. Sparring would do her good to let off some steam.
just an unstable unicorn.
As she gets outside and finds the blonde giantess standing at attention, Tylaerys draws a quick sigh of relief over Jirel not leaving the team. It would have broken her heart to see Jirel go. She could see the fuming fury in Jirel's honey eyes and hesitated slightly before approaching her, not wanting to make things worse. "I'm...I'm sorry if my words hurt you Jirel, I don't doubt you could storm that encampment, but the rest of us, even Jararaka I think, could not, making us a group more suited to the type of fighting we did in Greenest when we saved those townsfolk, and not on a great battlefield alongside mounted knights." She says, her silvery eyes looking up pleadingly at the goliath, taking her hand for comfort and care. "I know you are a proud one Jirel, and you have every right to be, being who you are. I know what happened in Greenest hurt you, hurt your pride more than anything else I think, but you are still our champion and protector when that next fight comes and we need you Jirel...I need you." She finishes, barely audible.
Finn's eyes go wide and she'd have taken a step back away from Goliath if she wasn't sitting down. As it was she almost tipped the chair over leaning away from her.
"What did I say?" she asked after JIrel had stormed out, looking at the others defensively.
"Training and sparring is fine," Finn explains to Sir Frume after they others have abruptly left. "We'd be happy to join. Though... I could think fo better ways to work off excess energy," she adds giving a look towards the door they other had exited through. "But my point is... We're not the traditional form up in a line and meet the oncoming horde types. We're more... random and haphazard in our works. More outside the box and seat of the pants. That's my point. If I have one..."
Jirel first glances up to the sky for a moment. May the gods forgive her for things getting out of proportion. She reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Tylaerys, I may be thick, but not that thick." She grumbles bringing her hand back down. "Please, even I know I can't storm that 'campment on my own." She looks back to Tylaerys. While she knew she was prideful to a fault, being able to admit it out loud for herself would be a lot easier than being called out on it. But here she was.
"Look." The goliath lets out a deep exhale. "Course, I dun expect everyone teh agree on everythin', an' I'm not sayin' I'm right fer walkin' out like that." She admits, "I'm a bloody wild barbarian fer gods sake. I'm frustrated with bein' associated with running away, backing down, shying away from a challenge, or at least, not bein' able teh face it in a way that's true teh me." She pauses knowing how selfish she may sound. "I know I can't 'win' all the time, an' we all know I can't take on an army. I know I can't do everythin' on my own, an' I sure as hells know I can't save everyone." The blonde pauses to rest her hand on hers.
"I know one day I wish teh free my people. I choose to accept that responsibility an' teh carry the weight of that on my shoulders." She confesses. "Yes, I need to get stronger. But that dun mean I'mma press to be so reckless as teh risk anyone's lives, or expect 'em to do anythin' they dun wanna do." The more she spoke, the more awkward she felt. "I respect individualism an' everyone teh have their voice, an' a choice." Jirel scratches the back of her head. "An' seeing how well we all werk together as a team... I guess I feel passionate... I believe you all are more capable than yous give yerselves credit for." She tries not to chew at her lip. The giantess exhales and pats Tylaerys' hand. "I'm not going teh walk out like that..." She assures. "I'm not gunna be so reckless teh throw my life away either. I want to be strong enough teh protect everyone I care 'bout... but I need teh be patient of the process." By now her face is already flush wish embarrassment. "I'm sorry... I just need teh blow off sum steam sometimes..."
just an unstable unicorn.
Nonplussed by the half-giant's eruption, Ontharr Frume laughs at Finn's defensive concern. "Hah! That takes me back. If I had a silver for everytime a companion of mine stormed out of a tavern, leaving me to ponder what it was I'd said to set them off... well, I'd have built my own temple to Torm by now. Hah!"
He leads the way out of A Pair of Black Antlers, collecting Tylaerys and Jirel outside.
Taking the scenic route - or at least that's how he describes it - he guides you down thoroughfares of shops and salons and then through rows of charming manor houses belonging to nobles and merchants. You walk almost to the back wall of Elturel, on the north side opposite the river. Then he turns back south, leading you up a gentle slope toward the High Hall atop the bluff. A stream runs down from springs under the castle, and this slope in the center of town is surrounded by parks full of green grass and gardens of fruit trees. The leaves are turning with the onset of autumn, and the view of the city from up here, and the wide plains of the Fields of the Dead beyond is really something. Approaching the castle, a small but thick patch of forest lies outside the gate, perhaps the remnants of a kingswood belonging to whatever figure in ancient history first built this fortress. Overhead, the Companion burns in the sky just overtop of the High Hall.
Inside the main gate, a dozen knights, most in chainmail but some in leathers, spar with wooden swords or partake in archery practice.
As you walk to the castle, Ontharr Frume takes care to question each one of you in detail about the attack on Greenest and the aftermath. It is not with the careful questioning of an inquisitor, but with the exuberant interest of a child eager for tales of wonder and glory. He is particularly interested in talk of the blue dragon, of the different battles you engaged in, and in what you learned of the leadership of this cult and their plans. He asks each of you how the experience impacted you, about any wounds you took, and about your own thoughts about what is motivating these cultists.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Sensing Ontharr Frume's appreciation for a well told tale of derring-do Finn grins and starts to give her unique, bard fueled, version of everything... But side-eyes Jirel and the air kind of goes out of her telling. Instead Finn tells everything she knows and recalls as accurately as she can.
"What motivates these cultists though?" Finn asks as she is summing up her summary of events. "They're nutters. What else? I mean I am not particularly religious myself... But I can at least understand those that are. It makes sense to me even if I disagree. But cultists worshipping dragons who want nothing but to destory and hoard? How is that good for anyone? That I just don't comprehend...."
"Personally though, I should still be sleeping off last night at the Antlers... Or sleeping off last night somewhere, anyway," Finn says. "I'm not a warrior. Not a defender or a savior. I'm an entertainer... A card player... Not really sure why I headed to Greenest with this lot. Or stayed with them after. It's just now...I can't even imagine not having their backs."
As she says the last bit, she says it mostly to Misses Binklesworth whom she has picked up out of the satchel she was resting in. Finn scritches and pets her as she talks rather than looking at her companions...
"I should only be drawing a sword when I'm accused of cheating at cards. This lot? They should have someone more like you guarding their back, ya know?"
Seeming quite relieved at Jirel's words, Tylaerys can't help but throw herself to hug the blonde giantess around the waist, then looking up at her with grateful silvery eyes. "It's okay Jirel." She says quietly, standing like that for a moment, too long perhaps, then stepping back with a blush as the others come out the tavern door. "I promise I will follow you and do what I can to help free your people Jirel when that day comes, if you'll have me." She says quietly, then turning to smile a bit awkwardly to the others, following along the scenic route through Elturel in silence.
"You're certainly very entertaining my friend..." Tylaerys says with a warm smile, putting a gentle and reassuring hand on Finn's shoulder. "...but you are also a hero of Greenest, whether you would admit it or not, and while neither you nor I would fare well on a battle field I think we both can contribute quite a bit in our own way to help the peaceful people of Sword Coast against the madness of this cult. And I agree..." She says, now turning to Sir Frume. "...they are nutters, but very dangerous nutters that truly believe they will share in the power of the dragons when the dragon queen herself ascends, and seeing how they have allies from Thay they certainly pose a great threat to all of Faerûn." She finishes grimly.
Jirel gives no side eye. She stands as she usually does at the back. And the giantess didn't have to do much but move her hands to her sides for one to be able to see the remnants of her battles in Greenest. Sure there were the usual defensive gashes along her forearms, but it was the large fresh scar along her torso left by her duel that was most obvious. The goliath goes to assume that Frume, and any of the others, may have caught at least some of her conversation with Tylaerys which highlighted some of the personal questions he's asked.
As for the cult, only a few things come to mind for Jirel to add/build on Finn and Tylaery's summaries. "They seek power." Perhaps that was a little ironic coming from her. "Unnatural power." Her nose scrunches knowing that it's not very specific, but she tries to point out two things that suck out to her. "Why would they be hoardin' so many prisoners? Guilty an' innocent alike." Surely that couldn't be for a good purpose. And then there was... "I've seen dragonborn, an' battled the half-dragon Langdedrosa, but this was somethin' else entirely." She was referring to the 6' tall figure with milky white scales and a crest reminiscent of a white dragon. It also had set of large wings on its back that look big enough to carry it in flight. There was something entirely unwholesome about its appearance; its eyes are dark sockets with pinpricks of unearthly light glowing from deep within.
just an unstable unicorn.
(Sorry, just meant Finn glanced sideways over towards Jirel... Not that Jirel gave Finn a look.)
Jararaka stands tensely near the door when they go to meet Ontharr Frume, his jolly demeanor throws her off a little. But still, in front of a knight, the potential of being dragged off to work off her crimes, or to death during these dire times, hangs at the back of her head. A run-away could fetch you a pretty penny, if somehow she was important enough to warrant a wanted poster.
So she is of course startled and stands to alert when Jirel walks out, having missed more than half of what was being relayed to Frume. She cranes her head out and decides to not follow when she sees that the giantess did not go far. When Frume seems to not pay her no mind and leads them out and around Elturel, she relaxes a bit and goes along. Sidling up to Jirel on the tail of the group and sensing a similar tenseness, though from an entirely different source, she says breezily with her arms behind her head, "there's always plenty opportunity to brawl and get better. The opportunities will probably find you before you even have to look. And well, now you can use all those feelings in this sparring. And future ass-kicking."
When Frume enquires, she does mention some concerning findings, "this cultist had a journal full of the chromatic dragons, so you could expect that." She also adds some information about the enemies they've faced, the dragon they saw with their own eyes, and some more practical things she remembers. "All of the cultists, all armed and ready to fight and rob. Way too confident about it too. Alliance with the cult makes them bold. I don't know if they are hoarding for themselves or for the dragons. They even loot their own dead." She concludes that with an unimpressed narrowing of eyes, like that loot should've went to her.
Cheddar just shrugs at the old knights inquiry.
"It happened as the others said." He tells the knight. "I don't believe there is enough information to say if this cult is just a group of nutters or something more. They are organized, have a heiryarchy and a yet unrevealed goal, to my mind at least. They have need for slaves or sacrifices. They have an army, of sorts, and did not take food or resources that I know of. They took people. Either they need souls for some Undead hoard, or need to feed "something" or have a need for labor. In each, they have to have some sort of base of operation to work from."
For a second it seems Cheddar has more to say but he falls silent.
Ontharr listens to your stories. You get the impression he had been looking forward to bardic tales of daring-do and heroic battles against evil. Your concise and matter of fact reporting on the events of the Greenest assault take a bit of the spring out of his step. He remains engaged however, asking a few followup questions about the dragon, the half-dragon and the strange white dragon-ish creature. He is quiet the rest of the walk then, deep in thought.
Arriving at the keep, his spirits lift again, his dour mood forgotten. He proposes some light drillwork to get the blood pumping and beat back fear and despair.
He calls four of the knights to the sparring sands. They are dressed in chain and each wields a practice halberd, the blade replaced with a blunted wood axe-head. The weapons afford each of them great reach and they form up in a line opposite you. "Any who wish for some practice, grab a weapon and join me." He selects a wooden great-sword and awaits any volunteers.
Those who wish to participate, select a training weapon:
Warhammers, longswords and shortswords can also be used with a training shield, which is available, if you like. Or you can dual wield or fight with a single handed weapon only, if thats your choice. Once the volunteers have assembled with Ontharr, he asks, "So tell me... how shall we attack these defenders?"
Someone (or more than one of you) suggest a strategy. Then all of you volunteers make three attack rolls (no damage necessary) and make three DEX saves.
Those not inclined to mix it up in the sparring sands, there are also archers and crossbowmen who are happy for a little competitive archery practice. Select from the following:
Make three attack rolls (no damage rolls necessary).
Those who don't want to participate in either, are free to wander the courtyard and watch.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Finn shrugs and volunteers. She's normally not one to get too into training and practice but Sir Frume seems to be excited about this and she figures it'd be nice to have him on their side. Finn picks a short sword and smiles, perhaps a bit mischievously.
"I say when the ground shakes we rush them!" she says with a wink. If she is not overruled or asked to explain, she'll leave it at that... He plan is that once they are all lined up that she'll first use Thaumaturgy to create a loud dragon's roar coming from behind the defenders (Or to one side, if range is too far.). She will then use it again quickly to cause the ground around the defenders to rumble harmlessly. Then, with them hopefully off balance and their attention elsewhere, she would direct them all to attack!
Attacks - Finn would try to get advantage on the second attack roll by having Misses Binklesworth sneak up on her oponnent and then leap at them with a screech just as Finn attacked (ie provide the help action.)
1) 14
2)
7but with adv 25 (nat 20)3) 19
Dex Saves - Finn would use Shield on the first, if needed. (adjust however you wish with that...)
1) 15
2) 16
3) 21
. Finn's not really sure feline assistance, or magical shenanigans, will be much appreciated here... But she also figures it best to give Sir Frume some taste of just what the group is all about and playing by the rules isn't neccessarily that.
Curiosity killing him, Cheddar waits till the larger people are all occupied and starts exploring.
Seeing the training weapons available, Tylaerys gives the blonde giantess an encouraging smile. "An opportunity to let out some steam perhaps." She says with a warm smile and a wink, then picking up light crossbow and firing it three times in rapid succession at the target across the field.
Light Crossbow: 18
Light Crossbow: 10
Light Crossbow: 20
She would then hop up and sit on a barrel, cheering on the others in the team as they practice, not overly concerned with her own effort.
Jararaka tilts her head at the training equipment. Having usually gotten into fights for livelihood, she is curious to try what seems to her to be play-fight. She picks up a shortsword similar in length to her old blade, as well as a wooden shield. She slings her storm-carved shield onto her back since magic, her very noticeable magic in particular, doesn't seem to play any part of this. Though, she does have to adjust her grip on the unfamiliar and lighter training shield while Finn relays her short strategy- or rather, notice.
When she hears the imitation of a dragon's roar, her spines stand up reflexively, but soon realises what the changeling had meant. Sticking low to the ground, she dives forward to attack the left-most in the line. First holding out the shield in front of her, she attempts to block the long-reach weapons and knock them off-balance while she swipes at the knight's legs.
Attack rolls:
9)14, 17)Dexterity saves:
(rolls are in campaign log!
the rolls are a bit messy, I forgot shove was an athletics check and just made an attack roll, but the dice rolled 8 and jararaka's athletics is +1)