Our particular story takes place on the planet Toril, on a continent known as Faerun, in an area called the Sword Coast.
You weren't always an adventurer.
In fact, for most of your life you were very ordinary and average. You didn't stand out. But, as long as you could remember, you did indeed have a past life. It could have been boring, it could have been exciting, it could have been out of your control, but something happened and one day that all changed. For good, or for bad, your life became different. In your heart, you knew you were destined for something else. You just didn't know what, or maybe you did. But something needed to change. Maybe it changed with or without your consent. Maybe you realized a change was needed when you were young, maybe it was not too long ago, or maybe it was just yesterday.
Whatever you did in your life before you became an adventurer didn't matter anymore. One thing is for sure, the change your life took led all four of you to meet in the village of Oakhurst when you heard rumors of a fortress that fell into the earth in an age long past, thus beginning the turn of events that led to the greatest collection of stories in the history of your life.
Now heed, the first part of our epic adventure, the tale of The Sunless Citadel.
It all started with a dream. A horrible dream. You've had dreams before, but this one was more unsettling than the rest. You woke up - startled, caught off guard, and it was a few moments before you could shake off something so terrible your mind created. There you were, along the road, on such an overcast day in the forest. The dead body and the worms that erupted from it. An unearthed tomb of titanic size, only blood could open the door. There were people there, others who expressed concern and fear and interest in the tomb - it might have been a sign from the stars - no one knew. But there you were with your friends, going inside, and the horrors within. An antediluvian biomass within, wet and sickly in appearance, and then the horrors within attacking - one launching towards your face to eat out your eyeballs out - the screaming voices in your head.
Then then you woke, startled. It was just a dream. Whether intended or not, today was the last day of your old life, the life before you became an adventurer. The details of the transition are unique to our cast of characters in this epic tale, and we take a brief moment to explore each one before our story begins.
TASK: Each of you take a moment to describe your old life and the exact moment you became an adventurer - leaving your old life behind. What happened? Why did it happen? Was it on purpose or not?
Ugg woke with a cry as he sat upright with a start. looking at his body for confirmation that it truly was a dream he took a deep breath and then reflected on the fact the his arm was in fact a normal arm and not some weird monstrosity. His thoughts then floated back to the raiding parties that he went on as a young man. The thrill of battle and defeated foes filling him with joy. His tribe roaming the land and conquering all that came against them until that fateful day.....
The band had been traveling along an ancient forest for days and had camped for the night in a grove of giant oak trees. After cutting some wood for cook fires they began to settle down and sing their raucous battle songs when the first shaft suddenly appeared in the chest of one particularly strong half-orc felling him with a mortal heart shot. Each of my brethren scrambled for their weapons as flight of arrows caused many more to fall before they even had a chance to get their weapons. I called out for my brethren to take cover as an arrow struck my chest and I fell to the ground and darkness overcame me.
I awoke to the sound of a small voice speaking to me and the feel of my wound being washed. Opening my eyes I saw a small figure tending to my wounds and noticed that it was a halfling male. He dressed like a sailor and spoke like one too. He had been scavenging the bodies of my fallen comrades and had found me still clinging to life and so decided to nurse me back to health. After healing I traveled with him and guarded his back in repayment for his saving my life and helped him to take ownership of his own ship, for he was a pirate. I worked with him for almost 10 years but eventually I left to travel and build my strength with the desire to return and take leadership of my tribe by right of combat for the Orc who took over after the former chief was killed all those years before.
My mind came back to the present and I looked at my unlikely companions, wondering if they would help me achieve my goals or not. I just didn't know
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Bartholomu wakes up in a hammock as he feels the familiar and steady rocking of a boat that he has been on for the last few weeks he still remembers the reason he is on this particular boat he wanted a job and these people were the only ones to give him a chance he felt thankful to these "sailors" that he had joined.
Judas woke up with a startle. "Damn, another dream. This one was goooooood, too. Mmm, hmm, that's right!" he said while cracking a smile, to no one in particular.
Judas has lived a humble life, working as an apprentice for the last 114 years in the village of Earlann to Aerendyl Daxidor, the village hierophant cleric. For a time, peace reigned in Earlann but once again the folly of the nation's human allies brought disaster. One year ago, a mass summoning of devils by Ascalhorn's mages backfired, resulting in the conquest of the city by the fiends. Just last month, after a long struggle against the devils of Ascalhorn that severely weakened the nation, Earlann fell to a horde of conquering orcs.
In the final battle, Judas witnessed his friend and mentor Aerendyl Daxidor brutally mutilated and slayed by an orc using a strange, dark magic. Fleeing from the village, he's been continually haunted by this image, causing bloodcurdling nightmares daily. Using all his known magic skills, and calling on his diety, has not helped in the slightest. The burden has taken its toll, isolating Judas from all his fellow village escapees, making him question his sanity.
He must find a way to overcome it before it destroys himself. On the run, he's sought answers in the more obscure and mysterious dark arts.
Varth violently wakes up, cold sweat dripping all over his face. Now that was a nightmare. Perhaps a side-effect of him working with such ancient things? He may never know.
As he calms himself down, he fondly remembers the old days, when he was just a little lad in Candlekeep, reading books about the people of Netheril and other old kingdoms. When he finally longed to see such wonderful old things, his father was able to grant him his blessing to go out into the world to seek what had caught his fascination. For a few years now, he has been travelling from site to site, every time with a new set of companions. How he has heard of a set of ruins that he wishes to find, and his current party of acquaintances seem to be travelling there by happenstance.
He takes out a book bound in blue leather, and opens it, revealing markings and scribbles and diagrams that only he could understand. These were his "notes". More specifically, it was his spellbook. Varth had studied more than just history in Candlekeep. He also had an affinity of learning magic. His spellbook was his father's gift on his 10th birthday and he has been scribbling in it since then. It contains not only his spellcasting diagrams but also his notes on histories (though he also has a separate one bound in red). If it would become lost, well, Varth wouldn't know what to do.
He looks out over his other companions and sighs. Just a few more days and he will be where he belongs...
Phil jerks awake, crying out was way to cliche a move for this slick cat. He runs a hand through his curly fro, cringing in pain when his hand catches a particularly nasty knot of tangled hair. That was gonna be a pain in the ass to brush out. “A Druid? Pffffttt... look what hugging trees got Elm.” His rather handsome (in his opinion) face contorts to a grimace of pained sorrow. He had to stop thinking about his deceased best friend. He slowly climbs out out of his bed roll, and meanders to the closest water source, hair and tooth brush in hand, bad breathe is the leading cause of death between bards dont you know.
After Pan, the minor diety who was the patron of the wilderness and the Satyr race, went missing all those years ago, the entire race split off into individuals, and small groups all searching for Pan in their own ways. Satyrs, a previously sheltered and unknown race suddenly exploded into the public consciousness as spirit like people who were often the cause of mishicvious outcomes, drunken deboutry, and what some considered eco-terroism (they took protecting the wild very seriously after all). Of course after the initial shiny-ness of the situation, Satyrs got a bad reputation in Faerun and earning a respectable income became very hard for members of the race.
Phil used to be a member of a minor search party, really an offshoot of the Emerald Enclave, which the Satyrs had practically taken over, but after the day that took Elm and his other friends lives, he had practically foresaken his other Satyr breathern and continued the search for Pan anew, a new goal in mind for his patron. A wish for the lives of his friends back once he found the missing God.
These days, Phil really embodies the drunken deboutry stereotype that others had stickerd onto his race. Those astute in the party can tell his outward personality is mostly mask, but he has yet to shown anyone else what was under it.
Balrog Grimgold sat up from his dream and spit onto the cold hard ground. Waking up from another restless sleep he grumbled and thought about his predicament. Balrog, a Gold Dwarf, was once a prestigious treasure hunter for the Blackhammer clan. He had once had it all: women, ale, glory, and wealth! Oh, the wealth! Why wasn't it ever just enough?
...enuff? enuff? what is enuff? You need more Balrog!... more! Gold, diamonds, rubies, more! " No! No!" Balrog shouted as he shook his head to clear it.
He had been sent by his chief, the leader of Blackhammer to retrieve a ring, yes a gold ring, from deep within the Smoking Mountains. The ring was special to the clan, forged by the brothers Brokkr and Eitri, it had the power to multiply into eight new rings, once every nine nights. These new rings would drip from the original and each new one would be the same size and weight of the original! Draupnir, as it was called, was indeed a work of perfection like no other and it rightfully belonged to the Clan Blackhammer, not those filthy orcs! They had stolen it when they raided Balrog's stronghold and then it had become lost from record, until a report was given to the head of the Blackhammer clan, who in turn trusted Balrog to retrieve it. Unfortunately for Balrog, he did not find Draupnir under the Smoking Mountains.
Balrog had been traversing side tunnels for a few days when he entered a small carved out hollow. There he found a strange altar made entirely of gold and completely encrusted with jewels. Awestruck, he approached it, believing he had found what he had come for Balrog touched the altar. The entire out cove shook and to Balrog's horror the tunnel he had entered through collapsed! A stalagmite fell and struck Balrog in the head, knocking hum unconscious. When the dust settled and Balrog awoke he found the altar had been smashed to pieces and his way out was completely blocked. Balrog panicked and tried to dig his way out to no avail. In his despair he began to call out, but no one could hear him. Balrog sat and slumped against a wall and that's when he saw it, a large, bright, shimmering diamond near the broken altar. He got up, approached the diamond with care and then picked it up. At first, Balrog felt nothing, but then he felt a strange pulse from the diamond, it seemed to radiate light...then he heard a hoarse whisper...
Alas, Balrog Grimgold, Balrog the Mighty, Balrog the Proud, lost everything on that venture... his friends, his family, his clan.. but, he did find something else, something Gold Dwarves just wouldn't understand...
Forever changed, both mentally and physically from his misfortune, Balrog now travels the Sword Coast, whispering in the dark, searching, always searching for things to fill the void he constantly feels.
All things roll here: horrors of midnights, Campaigns of a lost year, Dungeons disturbed, and groves of lights; Echoing on these shores, still clear, Dead ecstasies of questing knights- Yet how the wind revives us here!
Our story begins in the village of Oakhurst, where the five of you, by chance, or on purpose, have come to the village upon hearing the rumor of The Sunless Citadel.
The village of Oakhurst contains about 900 residents. Most of them are human, with a sizable minority of halflings and a scattering of other races. There are a few significant locations in Oakhurst that are worth mentioning:
THE VILLAGE HALL: The center of government in Oakhurst includes the office of Mayor Vurnor Leng, a male human. THE GENERAL STORE: The village's main source for supplies and merchandise is the general store, owned and operated by Kerowyn Hucrele, a human female. THE SHRINE: Advice, information, and healing are among the services dispensed at the villag'e shrine. It is maintained by Dem "Corkie" Nackle, a female gnome priest of Pelor. THE JAIL: Next to village hall is a stout building where miscreants serve their sentences. Oakhurst's constable is Felosial, a half-elf female. She commands a force of sixteen guards and four scouts who keep the village safe. THE BLACKSMITH: Repairing and forging arms and armor is the job of the village smithy, Rurik Lutgehr, a male dwarf. THE OL' BOAR INN: Garon, a human man, is the owner and barkeep of the Ol' Boar Inn. He serves food and drink, and the place has a few rooms that visitors can rent.
We find our group of companions in the Ol' Boar Inn, where they casually conversate amongst themselves with the intention of finding rumors about The Sunless Citadel, in addition to preparing for the journey. Is it fate that brings them together? Only the Gods know.
Let us watch how they interact..before our journey proper gets underway.
Judas sneers to himself. “Harrumph. A bar. Lots of soulless beings in these vermin infested places. Maybe I can find a soulless wandered campanion here who can wallow in my sorrow? So be it.”
He quietly opens the door to the inn, and walks to a table in the shadowed back corner. On his way, he stops dead in his tracks. He has a haunting recognition of one of the patrons. From his dream last night. Was it a precognition? “I beg of your pardon, kind sir, but you look strangely familiar. Like we’ve met before. Is your name, per chance, Ugg?”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Sitting at the far end of the bar tucked into the corner sits Balrog, he has his hood up in an attempt to look inconspicuous. He is drinking what he calls fire-water, a mixture of hot pepper cider and strong brandy.
As he drains the horn he calls for another from the barkeep, “Mmm.. good stuff is this... go on pour us another, could drink this stuff all day I could!” “What’d ya say yer name wuz keep? Ah, Garon, that’s right.” “Well Garon, I be looking fer something and been keeping me ear to the ground, would ya happen to have heard of a place called the Sunshine.. err.. no it’s Sunless, yep that’s right!.. Sunless Citadel?”
Varth, recently arriving with a caravan. went straight towards the tavern. He needed a pick-me-up after that dastardly trip. He looks around and notices something odd. A strange looking skull-man and a half-orc who seem to be in a deep conversation look very familiar. He approaches them nonchalantly and with a sort of nervous gait to him.
"Greetings. My name's Varth Lawburn. Historical scholar and amateur archaeologist. It might sound strange but, I seem to recall you two somewhere. Have we met before?"
Your investigation roll is sound. Garon smiles and, appreciative that you like the Firewater, looks into the distance as if trying to remember something.
"It has been a very long time since someone has asked me about the Sunless Citadel." He says, half to himself, half to you. "Only Talgen and Sharwyn asked about it, and now you. How interesting. I remember a time about 13 years ago..my establishment served a grim looking human named Belak. I remember he had a pet frog. Truly, the largest frog I have ever seen. I'll be right back with your refill."
Judas freezes at the introduction of Varth. Dumbfounded, stupefied, jaw on floor amazed. In all his 124 years, he’s never experienced anything like this. A dream. Writ large.
”Ye...ye...why, yes! You look familiar too. My name is Father Judas, but most people simply refer to me as Judas the Priest. Mr. Lawburn, it would seem all our destinies have been intertwined by a higher spirit. Did you per chance have a waking dream a few nights ago, that featured myself, my good friend Ugg here, and a few others? Very strange, because we both did! Something, or someone, wants to be found, and they think we’re the ones to do it. Have a seat!”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
“Talgen, Sharwyn, Belak... a giant frog.. what sense does that make?” Balrog growls to himself.
Balrog calls out to Garon, “Ahem...uhh.. Garon... do ye care to elaborate on that bit of information? Ye see I’m an out of towner and as ye might expect... I don’t believe I’ve heard o’ these folks b’fore.. nor in relation to the Sunless Citadel!”
~~PRIVATE - PLEASE DO NOT POST~~
COMING FRIDAY 3/30/18
THE SUNLESS CITADEL
Every story has a beginning...
Our particular story takes place on the planet Toril, on a continent known as Faerun, in an area called the Sword Coast.
You weren't always an adventurer.
In fact, for most of your life you were very ordinary and average. You didn't stand out. But, as long as you could remember, you did indeed have a past life. It could have been boring, it could have been exciting, it could have been out of your control, but something happened and one day that all changed. For good, or for bad, your life became different. In your heart, you knew you were destined for something else. You just didn't know what, or maybe you did. But something needed to change. Maybe it changed with or without your consent. Maybe you realized a change was needed when you were young, maybe it was not too long ago, or maybe it was just yesterday.
Whatever you did in your life before you became an adventurer didn't matter anymore. One thing is for sure, the change your life took led all four of you to meet in the village of Oakhurst when you heard rumors of a fortress that fell into the earth in an age long past, thus beginning the turn of events that led to the greatest collection of stories in the history of your life.
Now heed, the first part of our epic adventure, the tale of The Sunless Citadel.
THE SUNLESS CITADEL
PROLOGUE
It all started with a dream. A horrible dream. You've had dreams before, but this one was more unsettling than the rest. You woke up - startled, caught off guard, and it was a few moments before you could shake off something so terrible your mind created. There you were, along the road, on such an overcast day in the forest. The dead body and the worms that erupted from it. An unearthed tomb of titanic size, only blood could open the door. There were people there, others who expressed concern and fear and interest in the tomb - it might have been a sign from the stars - no one knew. But there you were with your friends, going inside, and the horrors within. An antediluvian biomass within, wet and sickly in appearance, and then the horrors within attacking - one launching towards your face to eat out your eyeballs out - the screaming voices in your head.
Then then you woke, startled. It was just a dream. Whether intended or not, today was the last day of your old life, the life before you became an adventurer. The details of the transition are unique to our cast of characters in this epic tale, and we take a brief moment to explore each one before our story begins.
TASK: Each of you take a moment to describe your old life and the exact moment you became an adventurer - leaving your old life behind. What happened? Why did it happen? Was it on purpose or not?
Ugg woke with a cry as he sat upright with a start. looking at his body for confirmation that it truly was a dream he took a deep breath and then reflected on the fact the his arm was in fact a normal arm and not some weird monstrosity. His thoughts then floated back to the raiding parties that he went on as a young man. The thrill of battle and defeated foes filling him with joy. His tribe roaming the land and conquering all that came against them until that fateful day.....
The band had been traveling along an ancient forest for days and had camped for the night in a grove of giant oak trees. After cutting some wood for cook fires they began to settle down and sing their raucous battle songs when the first shaft suddenly appeared in the chest of one particularly strong half-orc felling him with a mortal heart shot. Each of my brethren scrambled for their weapons as flight of arrows caused many more to fall before they even had a chance to get their weapons. I called out for my brethren to take cover as an arrow struck my chest and I fell to the ground and darkness overcame me.
I awoke to the sound of a small voice speaking to me and the feel of my wound being washed. Opening my eyes I saw a small figure tending to my wounds and noticed that it was a halfling male. He dressed like a sailor and spoke like one too. He had been scavenging the bodies of my fallen comrades and had found me still clinging to life and so decided to nurse me back to health. After healing I traveled with him and guarded his back in repayment for his saving my life and helped him to take ownership of his own ship, for he was a pirate. I worked with him for almost 10 years but eventually I left to travel and build my strength with the desire to return and take leadership of my tribe by right of combat for the Orc who took over after the former chief was killed all those years before.
My mind came back to the present and I looked at my unlikely companions, wondering if they would help me achieve my goals or not. I just didn't know
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Bartholomu wakes up in a hammock as he feels the familiar and steady rocking of a boat that he has been on for the last few weeks he still remembers the reason he is on this particular boat he wanted a job and these people were the only ones to give him a chance he felt thankful to these "sailors" that he had joined.
After Bartholomu gets out of his hammock he goes do the dining area and eats his breakfast of bland porridge and fruit he sets to his daily chores.
( Bartholomu is a wood elf monk)
Who is this....?
Judas woke up with a startle. "Damn, another dream. This one was goooooood, too. Mmm, hmm, that's right!" he said while cracking a smile, to no one in particular.
Judas has lived a humble life, working as an apprentice for the last 114 years in the village of Earlann to Aerendyl Daxidor, the village hierophant cleric. For a time, peace reigned in Earlann but once again the folly of the nation's human allies brought disaster. One year ago, a mass summoning of devils by Ascalhorn's mages backfired, resulting in the conquest of the city by the fiends. Just last month, after a long struggle against the devils of Ascalhorn that severely weakened the nation, Earlann fell to a horde of conquering orcs.
In the final battle, Judas witnessed his friend and mentor Aerendyl Daxidor brutally mutilated and slayed by an orc using a strange, dark magic. Fleeing from the village, he's been continually haunted by this image, causing bloodcurdling nightmares daily. Using all his known magic skills, and calling on his diety, has not helped in the slightest. The burden has taken its toll, isolating Judas from all his fellow village escapees, making him question his sanity.
He must find a way to overcome it before it destroys himself. On the run, he's sought answers in the more obscure and mysterious dark arts.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Varth violently wakes up, cold sweat dripping all over his face. Now that was a nightmare. Perhaps a side-effect of him working with such ancient things? He may never know.
As he calms himself down, he fondly remembers the old days, when he was just a little lad in Candlekeep, reading books about the people of Netheril and other old kingdoms. When he finally longed to see such wonderful old things, his father was able to grant him his blessing to go out into the world to seek what had caught his fascination. For a few years now, he has been travelling from site to site, every time with a new set of companions. How he has heard of a set of ruins that he wishes to find, and his current party of acquaintances seem to be travelling there by happenstance.
He takes out a book bound in blue leather, and opens it, revealing markings and scribbles and diagrams that only he could understand. These were his "notes". More specifically, it was his spellbook. Varth had studied more than just history in Candlekeep. He also had an affinity of learning magic. His spellbook was his father's gift on his 10th birthday and he has been scribbling in it since then. It contains not only his spellcasting diagrams but also his notes on histories (though he also has a separate one bound in red). If it would become lost, well, Varth wouldn't know what to do.
He looks out over his other companions and sighs. Just a few more days and he will be where he belongs...
Phil jerks awake, crying out was way to cliche a move for this slick cat. He runs a hand through his curly fro, cringing in pain when his hand catches a particularly nasty knot of tangled hair. That was gonna be a pain in the ass to brush out. “A Druid? Pffffttt... look what hugging trees got Elm.” His rather handsome (in his opinion) face contorts to a grimace of pained sorrow. He had to stop thinking about his deceased best friend. He slowly climbs out out of his bed roll, and meanders to the closest water source, hair and tooth brush in hand, bad breathe is the leading cause of death between bards dont you know.
After Pan, the minor diety who was the patron of the wilderness and the Satyr race, went missing all those years ago, the entire race split off into individuals, and small groups all searching for Pan in their own ways. Satyrs, a previously sheltered and unknown race suddenly exploded into the public consciousness as spirit like people who were often the cause of mishicvious outcomes, drunken deboutry, and what some considered eco-terroism (they took protecting the wild very seriously after all). Of course after the initial shiny-ness of the situation, Satyrs got a bad reputation in Faerun and earning a respectable income became very hard for members of the race.
Phil used to be a member of a minor search party, really an offshoot of the Emerald Enclave, which the Satyrs had practically taken over, but after the day that took Elm and his other friends lives, he had practically foresaken his other Satyr breathern and continued the search for Pan anew, a new goal in mind for his patron. A wish for the lives of his friends back once he found the missing God.
These days, Phil really embodies the drunken deboutry stereotype that others had stickerd onto his race. Those astute in the party can tell his outward personality is mostly mask, but he has yet to shown anyone else what was under it.
Aarghh... "Blasted dream again".. hraca.. pthu .. ahem! .. "bloody feel ill again," argh, pthu... mhmm.
Balrog Grimgold sat up from his dream and spit onto the cold hard ground. Waking up from another restless sleep he grumbled and thought about his predicament. Balrog, a Gold Dwarf, was once a prestigious treasure hunter for the Blackhammer clan. He had once had it all: women, ale, glory, and wealth! Oh, the wealth! Why wasn't it ever just enough?
...enuff? enuff? what is enuff? You need more Balrog!... more! Gold, diamonds, rubies, more! " No! No!" Balrog shouted as he shook his head to clear it.
He had been sent by his chief, the leader of Blackhammer to retrieve a ring, yes a gold ring, from deep within the Smoking Mountains. The ring was special to the clan, forged by the brothers Brokkr and Eitri, it had the power to multiply into eight new rings, once every nine nights. These new rings would drip from the original and each new one would be the same size and weight of the original! Draupnir, as it was called, was indeed a work of perfection like no other and it rightfully belonged to the Clan Blackhammer, not those filthy orcs! They had stolen it when they raided Balrog's stronghold and then it had become lost from record, until a report was given to the head of the Blackhammer clan, who in turn trusted Balrog to retrieve it. Unfortunately for Balrog, he did not find Draupnir under the Smoking Mountains.
Balrog had been traversing side tunnels for a few days when he entered a small carved out hollow. There he found a strange altar made entirely of gold and completely encrusted with jewels. Awestruck, he approached it, believing he had found what he had come for Balrog touched the altar. The entire out cove shook and to Balrog's horror the tunnel he had entered through collapsed! A stalagmite fell and struck Balrog in the head, knocking hum unconscious. When the dust settled and Balrog awoke he found the altar had been smashed to pieces and his way out was completely blocked. Balrog panicked and tried to dig his way out to no avail. In his despair he began to call out, but no one could hear him. Balrog sat and slumped against a wall and that's when he saw it, a large, bright, shimmering diamond near the broken altar. He got up, approached the diamond with care and then picked it up. At first, Balrog felt nothing, but then he felt a strange pulse from the diamond, it seemed to radiate light...then he heard a hoarse whisper...
Alas, Balrog Grimgold, Balrog the Mighty, Balrog the Proud, lost everything on that venture... his friends, his family, his clan.. but, he did find something else, something Gold Dwarves just wouldn't understand...
Forever changed, both mentally and physically from his misfortune, Balrog now travels the Sword Coast, whispering in the dark, searching, always searching for things to fill the void he constantly feels.
THE SUNLESS CITADEL
CHAPTER ONE
~~THE VILLAGE OF OAKHURST~~
All things roll here: horrors of midnights,
Campaigns of a lost year,
Dungeons disturbed, and groves of lights;
Echoing on these shores, still clear,
Dead ecstasies of questing knights-
Yet how the wind revives us here!
Our story begins in the village of Oakhurst, where the five of you, by chance, or on purpose, have come to the village upon hearing the rumor of The Sunless Citadel.
The village of Oakhurst contains about 900 residents. Most of them are human, with a sizable minority of halflings and a scattering of other races. There are a few significant locations in Oakhurst that are worth mentioning:
THE VILLAGE HALL: The center of government in Oakhurst includes the office of Mayor Vurnor Leng, a male human.
THE GENERAL STORE: The village's main source for supplies and merchandise is the general store, owned and operated by Kerowyn Hucrele, a human female.
THE SHRINE: Advice, information, and healing are among the services dispensed at the villag'e shrine. It is maintained by Dem "Corkie" Nackle, a female gnome priest of Pelor.
THE JAIL: Next to village hall is a stout building where miscreants serve their sentences. Oakhurst's constable is Felosial, a half-elf female. She commands a force of sixteen guards and four scouts who keep the village safe.
THE BLACKSMITH: Repairing and forging arms and armor is the job of the village smithy, Rurik Lutgehr, a male dwarf.
THE OL' BOAR INN: Garon, a human man, is the owner and barkeep of the Ol' Boar Inn. He serves food and drink, and the place has a few rooms that visitors can rent.
We find our group of companions in the Ol' Boar Inn, where they casually conversate amongst themselves with the intention of finding rumors about The Sunless Citadel, in addition to preparing for the journey. Is it fate that brings them together? Only the Gods know.
Let us watch how they interact..before our journey proper gets underway.
Judas sneers to himself. “Harrumph. A bar. Lots of soulless beings in these vermin infested places. Maybe I can find a soulless wandered campanion here who can wallow in my sorrow? So be it.”
He quietly opens the door to the inn, and walks to a table in the shadowed back corner. On his way, he stops dead in his tracks. He has a haunting recognition of one of the patrons. From his dream last night. Was it a precognition? “I beg of your pardon, kind sir, but you look strangely familiar. Like we’ve met before. Is your name, per chance, Ugg?”
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Looking up from a large mug of strong dwarven ale Ugg lets out a deep throated laugh and nods before answering in his deep voice.
"I am Ugg Stormsbane, you are master Julias if I remember correctly. We did meet before, in the world of dreams if not here before."
He held up his mug and smiled, "Would you care to join me in a drink?"
OOC: he remembered your name wrong bc he's dumb FYI
"Lord Arunduil will bring death to us all"
Arutha Lvl.2 Human Fighter: Arsenal of the Orc Lord
Milamber Lvl.1 Human Sorcerer: Curse of Strahd
Masque: Lvl.5 Gith Cleric: Age of Death
DM: League of Improbable Adventurers: Chapter 1 of Arunduil's Bane
Sitting at the far end of the bar tucked into the corner sits Balrog, he has his hood up in an attempt to look inconspicuous. He is drinking what he calls fire-water, a mixture of hot pepper cider and strong brandy.
As he drains the horn he calls for another from the barkeep, “Mmm.. good stuff is this... go on pour us another, could drink this stuff all day I could!” “What’d ya say yer name wuz keep? Ah, Garon, that’s right.” “Well Garon, I be looking fer something and been keeping me ear to the ground, would ya happen to have heard of a place called the Sunshine.. err.. no it’s Sunless, yep that’s right!.. Sunless Citadel?”
Investigation: 15
Varth, recently arriving with a caravan. went straight towards the tavern. He needed a pick-me-up after that dastardly trip. He looks around and notices something odd. A strange looking skull-man and a half-orc who seem to be in a deep conversation look very familiar. He approaches them nonchalantly and with a sort of nervous gait to him.
"Greetings. My name's Varth Lawburn. Historical scholar and amateur archaeologist. It might sound strange but, I seem to recall you two somewhere. Have we met before?"
SUNLESS CITADEL RUMOR:
Your investigation roll is sound. Garon smiles and, appreciative that you like the Firewater, looks into the distance as if trying to remember something.
"It has been a very long time since someone has asked me about the Sunless Citadel." He says, half to himself, half to you. "Only Talgen and Sharwyn asked about it, and now you. How interesting. I remember a time about 13 years ago..my establishment served a grim looking human named Belak. I remember he had a pet frog. Truly, the largest frog I have ever seen. I'll be right back with your refill."
Judas freezes at the introduction of Varth. Dumbfounded, stupefied, jaw on floor amazed. In all his 124 years, he’s never experienced anything like this. A dream. Writ large.
”Ye...ye...why, yes! You look familiar too. My name is Father Judas, but most people simply refer to me as Judas the Priest. Mr. Lawburn, it would seem all our destinies have been intertwined by a higher spirit. Did you per chance have a waking dream a few nights ago, that featured myself, my good friend Ugg here, and a few others? Very strange, because we both did! Something, or someone, wants to be found, and they think we’re the ones to do it. Have a seat!”
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
“Talgen, Sharwyn, Belak... a giant frog.. what sense does that make?” Balrog growls to himself.
Balrog calls out to Garon, “Ahem...uhh.. Garon... do ye care to elaborate on that bit of information? Ye see I’m an out of towner and as ye might expect... I don’t believe I’ve heard o’ these folks b’fore.. nor in relation to the Sunless Citadel!”
Persuasion: 7