Erdan, you sprint forward and step onto the solid footing of the wall, relieved to be off the swaying bridge. Turning around, you survey the scene. Dahme'dre is right behind you, with Valen and Kuori also moving rapidly toward the wall. Aio flies nearly overhead, having chased the now fallen vulture and helped bring it down.
The last of the three giant birds is now largely out of range, winging away desperately chased by your frozen missile and Valen's prayer for flame. Neither of these are able to quite bring it down, but they are more than enough, combined with the death of its flock, to spur it off into the distance.
The danger passed, your companions are able to join you on the wall's edge and catch their breath. A few minutes later, one of the Wall's End guards trots across the bridge. Moving with easy confidence over the swaying expanse. He stops in front of you, uncertainly trying to decide a leader and failing, given the variety within the group.
"Well fought," he says, a relieved smile on his lips, "we have been able to do little more than drive them back from the inn for weeks." He reaches into his armor and produces a small but meaningfully jingling back, handing it across. "The bounty," he explains, "we had hoped Khangar and might deal with the birds, but your news set them off back into the city so your intervention is a double blessing."
He indicates the edge of the wall. "If you're looking to leave the city, the ladder-rope is fifty feet down the wall, on your left."
Valen stuff his sword back into its sheath when the guard approaches, ready to wring the man's neck for so nonchalantly dismissing the encounter. However, the reward and mention of the other group seems to temper the cleric's anger. He borrows the bag for a moment, withdraws one gold and one silver coin, "My share, and a share for The Bastion. Now, let's get out of here, the sooner the better."
On the way out of the city, Valen stays close to Kuori to monitor her wounds. A tactic learned from The Bastion: He is aware that his powers are limited, so best to leave options open until the end of the day. Keep the wounded close and well-guarded. Should danger arise, he'll be ready to mend her back to health immediately.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Kuori turns to the left and walks to the ladder, lightly shoving the guard aside. She looks out past the wall to see what she can see.
Perception: 8
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dahme'dre glows with perspiration, her hair in disarray. Watching the last bird depart she prepares a final Blast, but releases the spell as the bird flees from range.
As the guard approaches she drinks from her water skin and cleans her brow and hair with a quick Presto.
"Those crossbows are just for show?"She asks. Shifting her pack on her back. "Have you got any advice as we continue our journey?"
She begins her normal humming again, seeking Guidance as she joins Kuori at the ledge. (Perception: (3)21)
Erdan will take 1 gold and 10 silver from the bag, his share.
With a smirk, Erdan will say, "Wait a second, wasn't there suppose to be 10 Gold pieces in here?" Chuckling, he will say to the guard "Go home, protect you family, be safe."
He will walk to his friends, and casually look over there shoulders as they look over the wall. "What are we looking at?"
The late morning sun hangs overhead, partially obscured by thin clouds as Kuori and Dahme'dre, you approach the edge of the wall. A sprawling vista spreads out before you, offering a wide view if little to provide comfort. Far to the west, the sun gleams off the lake, and shines dully on the remnants of the aqueduct as it snakes its way toward the city.
Closer to where you stand, the killing field cleared decades ago to prevent stealthy approach to the city has been neglected and nature has begun to reclaim it. Small shrubs and even young trees now dot the once barren area, their fruits picked clean by foragers of all kinds. Grass now grows freely amid the cobblestones of the main road which runs from the locked western gate of Thar to your north.
With your keen eyes guided by the faintest of arcane tugs, Dahme'dre you are able to make out a faint path running from the base of the corded rope-ladder down to the main road.
There are few signs of movement beyond the wall, the lack of a functioning gate having rerouted what commerce remains in the vicinity of the capital to other entrances. To the far north, you see the faint signs of curling chimney smoke, likely rising from the most northerly of Thar's satellite villages.
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Valen eagerly descends, glad to put this forsaken city behind him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(I suppose if Erdan's going to keep taking the lead position, in the future I'll want to let Kuori go ahead of Dahme'dre. I keep refraining from sending the big strong men ahead, cause one of our big strong men is a woman.)
One by one, you descend the long rope to the foot of the wall. The climb is long and slow going, your gear, armor and packs restricting your agility and necessitating that every foot of the rope be descended cautiously. Easy targets while on the rope, you nevertheless go unmolested as Aio's vigilant hovering presence and the grisly fate which befell the rest of its flock keeps the lone remaining vulture circling hundreds of feet away.
You complete your descent just past noon, the sun high overhead but providing little in the way of warmth. With the sun at its zenith, the shadow cast by the wall is marginal, but you stand in it nonetheless. Around you, the no-man's land around the wall stretches to the west, shadowed by the remaining pillars of the aqueduct. At your feet, you can just see a path leading from the bottom of the rope in a northwesterly direction, before curving north to join the road you spied from up on the wall.
All is eerily quiet, the desolation of the Flooded Quarter meaning the usual sounds of a busy city do not echo here.
Valen hangs his shield over a shoulder and rests a hand on his hilt, "Come on, no time to waste. We've got days to travel and this one is only partly through."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Packs shouldered and weapons holstered, you make your way along the path. Gradually, you emerge from the shadow of the wall and into the full light of day. The sunlight does little to enliven the scene. Little moves except the gentle swaying of grass and shrubs in the wind. Apart from indistinct, faint noises from the city, all is quiet.
After an hour of marching along a largely steady path you arrive at the road. Weathered cobblestones the size of a man's head lie thirty wide in a long expanse of grey which stretches out to the north. Worn and cracked in places, the road is comparatively intact. Weeds and small grasses have managed to wind their way through the odd crack here and there, providing a splash of green amid the flow of monotone grey stone.
Few move on the road, but you are not completely alone. Far to the north, barely specks on the horizon are the large forms of some kind of caravan. At least two wagons of significant size roll along, pulled by an animal you cannot see. They are travelling north, away from your current position but moving at a slow walk. You can barely make out a few figures walking alongside the wagons while presumably others ride atop or within them.
To the south, several figures walking individually or in small groups move hurriedly along the road back toward the capital.
Dahme'dre gestures toward the south. Her spectral hand hovers and points toward the scurrying people."I hope they don't know something we don't."She turns back to the north. "Shall we attempt to catch up to that caravan before night fall?"
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1) DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Erdan, you sprint forward and step onto the solid footing of the wall, relieved to be off the swaying bridge. Turning around, you survey the scene. Dahme'dre is right behind you, with Valen and Kuori also moving rapidly toward the wall. Aio flies nearly overhead, having chased the now fallen vulture and helped bring it down.
The last of the three giant birds is now largely out of range, winging away desperately chased by your frozen missile and Valen's prayer for flame. Neither of these are able to quite bring it down, but they are more than enough, combined with the death of its flock, to spur it off into the distance.
The danger passed, your companions are able to join you on the wall's edge and catch their breath. A few minutes later, one of the Wall's End guards trots across the bridge. Moving with easy confidence over the swaying expanse. He stops in front of you, uncertainly trying to decide a leader and failing, given the variety within the group.
"Well fought," he says, a relieved smile on his lips, "we have been able to do little more than drive them back from the inn for weeks." He reaches into his armor and produces a small but meaningfully jingling back, handing it across. "The bounty," he explains, "we had hoped Khangar and might deal with the birds, but your news set them off back into the city so your intervention is a double blessing."
He indicates the edge of the wall. "If you're looking to leave the city, the ladder-rope is fifty feet down the wall, on your left."
((-- Vulture Ambush Survived --
Received:
- 5 gold, 50 silver (total)
- 600 Experience (120 each)
))
Valen stuff his sword back into its sheath when the guard approaches, ready to wring the man's neck for so nonchalantly dismissing the encounter. However, the reward and mention of the other group seems to temper the cleric's anger. He borrows the bag for a moment, withdraws one gold and one silver coin, "My share, and a share for The Bastion. Now, let's get out of here, the sooner the better."
On the way out of the city, Valen stays close to Kuori to monitor her wounds. A tactic learned from The Bastion: He is aware that his powers are limited, so best to leave options open until the end of the day. Keep the wounded close and well-guarded. Should danger arise, he'll be ready to mend her back to health immediately.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Kuori turns to the left and walks to the ladder, lightly shoving the guard aside. She looks out past the wall to see what she can see.
Perception: 8
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Dahme'dre glows with perspiration, her hair in disarray. Watching the last bird depart she prepares a final Blast, but releases the spell as the bird flees from range.
As the guard approaches she drinks from her water skin and cleans her brow and hair with a quick Presto.
"Those crossbows are just for show?" She asks. Shifting her pack on her back. "Have you got any advice as we continue our journey?"
She begins her normal humming again, seeking Guidance as she joins Kuori at the ledge. (Perception: (3)21)
Extended Signature
Erdan will take 1 gold and 10 silver from the bag, his share.
With a smirk, Erdan will say, "Wait a second, wasn't there suppose to be 10 Gold pieces in here?" Chuckling, he will say to the guard "Go home, protect you family, be safe."
He will walk to his friends, and casually look over there shoulders as they look over the wall. "What are we looking at?"
The late morning sun hangs overhead, partially obscured by thin clouds as Kuori and Dahme'dre, you approach the edge of the wall. A sprawling vista spreads out before you, offering a wide view if little to provide comfort. Far to the west, the sun gleams off the lake, and shines dully on the remnants of the aqueduct as it snakes its way toward the city.
Closer to where you stand, the killing field cleared decades ago to prevent stealthy approach to the city has been neglected and nature has begun to reclaim it. Small shrubs and even young trees now dot the once barren area, their fruits picked clean by foragers of all kinds. Grass now grows freely amid the cobblestones of the main road which runs from the locked western gate of Thar to your north.
With your keen eyes guided by the faintest of arcane tugs, Dahme'dre you are able to make out a faint path running from the base of the corded rope-ladder down to the main road.
There are few signs of movement beyond the wall, the lack of a functioning gate having rerouted what commerce remains in the vicinity of the capital to other entrances. To the far north, you see the faint signs of curling chimney smoke, likely rising from the most northerly of Thar's satellite villages.
Dahme'dre will follow second down the ladder.
She resheathes her dagger, slips her staff into a loop on the pack, and checks the straps as her quiet song continues.
Extended Signature
Kuori goes after Dahme'dre down the ladder.
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum
Aio circles above them and meets them at the bottom once they get there.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Erdan will continue to pretend to look at what everyone else is looking at for a bit. If no one else moves to go first, Erdan will go down.
"No time like the present!"
"Excelent." Dahmedre uses her mage hand to hold her dress and prevent Erdan from getting an eye-full of anything immodest.
Extended Signature
Valen eagerly descends, glad to put this forsaken city behind him.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
(I suppose if Erdan's going to keep taking the lead position, in the future I'll want to let Kuori go ahead of Dahme'dre. I keep refraining from sending the big strong men ahead, cause one of our big strong men is a woman.)
Extended Signature
((Very progressive of you, Dahme'dre!))
One by one, you descend the long rope to the foot of the wall. The climb is long and slow going, your gear, armor and packs restricting your agility and necessitating that every foot of the rope be descended cautiously. Easy targets while on the rope, you nevertheless go unmolested as Aio's vigilant hovering presence and the grisly fate which befell the rest of its flock keeps the lone remaining vulture circling hundreds of feet away.
You complete your descent just past noon, the sun high overhead but providing little in the way of warmth. With the sun at its zenith, the shadow cast by the wall is marginal, but you stand in it nonetheless. Around you, the no-man's land around the wall stretches to the west, shadowed by the remaining pillars of the aqueduct. At your feet, you can just see a path leading from the bottom of the rope in a northwesterly direction, before curving north to join the road you spied from up on the wall.
All is eerily quiet, the desolation of the Flooded Quarter meaning the usual sounds of a busy city do not echo here.
Valen hangs his shield over a shoulder and rests a hand on his hilt, "Come on, no time to waste. We've got days to travel and this one is only partly through."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"Agreed. No time to rest." Dahme'dre recovers her staff from the straps of her pack. She is ready to move.
Extended Signature
Aio landed with the group and began to walk with them, tired from so much exertion in the air.
Pit of Vipers: Watl Wiggins - Halfling Rogue(10)
League of Improbable Adventurers: Alan Quatermain - Human Fighter(3)
Packs shouldered and weapons holstered, you make your way along the path. Gradually, you emerge from the shadow of the wall and into the full light of day. The sunlight does little to enliven the scene. Little moves except the gentle swaying of grass and shrubs in the wind. Apart from indistinct, faint noises from the city, all is quiet.
After an hour of marching along a largely steady path you arrive at the road. Weathered cobblestones the size of a man's head lie thirty wide in a long expanse of grey which stretches out to the north. Worn and cracked in places, the road is comparatively intact. Weeds and small grasses have managed to wind their way through the odd crack here and there, providing a splash of green amid the flow of monotone grey stone.
Few move on the road, but you are not completely alone. Far to the north, barely specks on the horizon are the large forms of some kind of caravan. At least two wagons of significant size roll along, pulled by an animal you cannot see. They are travelling north, away from your current position but moving at a slow walk. You can barely make out a few figures walking alongside the wagons while presumably others ride atop or within them.
To the south, several figures walking individually or in small groups move hurriedly along the road back toward the capital.
Dahme'dre gestures toward the south. Her spectral hand hovers and points toward the scurrying people. "I hope they don't know something we don't." She turns back to the north. "Shall we attempt to catch up to that caravan before night fall?"
Extended Signature
"The faster we go the sooner we arrive."
Horatio Hirschfeld - Squire imbued with fae powers, in the Coliseum of Conquest (W2/L1)
DM for Reavers of Harkenwold, and sometimes The Fighting Grounds of the Coliseum