Stonehill’s friendly chattiness peters to a halt, he takes a breath, and answers soberly, “I think it’s best for my guests’ safety that I mention them early on so no one is surprised.” He lowers his voice to a level inaudible more than a few feet away. “Redbrands,” he growls, “are a bunch of hooligans. And some would say, worse than hooligans. Now I won’t go into details at this moment…You should rest up, eat. Nothin to worry about here in the Stonehill Inn: a slice of the heavens, we’ve got here, eh? But before you go out again, especially at night, you find me or Elsa. She knows the score, and ask us again. Now, if you’ll excuse me please, I need to speak with the cook.”
vidruth looks grim "we will speak of this later i suppose. kiselina, I am sorry if this is unnecessary to say, but we cant do anything about this. not an insult or anything just i am used to paladins trying to solve every problem and we have no time"
a while later, back in the common room vidruth eats his stew as he speaks, happy to be off the road and somewhere more comfortable
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This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
Puzzled by a delightful smell, Nosam looks around and realizing he passed out. "Guess I was more tired than I thought." He collects his thoughts while he washes his face and proceeds to make his way towards the wonderful smell of one of his favorite dishes. Grabbing a seat near Marten, he makes sure to let it be known that he needs some of the stew. "Evening everyone. Mister Marten you must be thirsty. Mind if I pour me one? Ha, Next one or four will be on me!"
Marten smiles at the dwarf. "Heh! He'p yerself Nosam, sir! And thank'e." He feels comfortable around Nosam, who seems to him like a blunt, uncomplicated sort of fellow.
“Thanks Marten,” he says and takes a pint of ale, listening to Vidruth. After saying their part, Berry begins to describe in detail the way that he observed when he followed the goblin up to the hills before he turned around. “If I would have known that we continue our way with the wagon, I would have pressed to try and find the lair’s entrance. But I think it shouldn’t be too far from where I left the goblin and there is a path to follow.”
Marten listens again with interest. "Well now, ye did a good job, Berry. None of us could've made it up the goblins' trail fast enough to see where that one was goin'. Don' worry. Even if the goblins cleared the horses, I'm certain I c'n find that spot again. I won't soon forget it! We'll find their trail tomorrow and follow it back to their hideout. Or we could look for another way 'round, perhaps? Find their hideout without walking up their trail in case they lay traps there before we get back."
Thinking about the next day, Marten appears focused and interested, but he suddenly looks uncomfortable. He asks, "Is...uh...everyone planning to go look for Gundren? I mean...um...Berry, I guess yer in? You wanted to go search for Gundren yesterday. And I'll go. But, well...we finished the job got our pay. No one asked us to rescue Gundren." He looks around the table as he talks, realizing that he doesn't know much about his fellow travelers for the last 3 days. They were steady on the trip from Neverwinter, and the group was quick and effective in handling the goblin ambush. But are they ready to raid a goblin stronghold?
Not sure where to look, Marten looks down at his stew and says, "I jus' mean...no disrespect. I don' blame anyone who don' wanna go back tomorrow. It's not the job ye' signed up for in Neverwinter, and crawlin' into a wolf's den is sure more dangerous than scaring away a lone wolf from the flock."
"We need to learn more about those goblins" vidruth begins once everyone has eaten a little and is beginning to relax "they are almost certainly cragmaws, but i have only heard of the tribe in passing and im surprised they are still around, this banditry, its wierd for goblins, they seem prepared, and while that happens sometimes its not as common as some think it should be. does anyone else know anything about them, or think anything seemed wierd?"
(OOC: @1973 - Should we all roll a history check or do you want a "group check" to see what the party can cobble together about the Cragmaws from the bits that everyone can remember?)
Nosam: "Now Mister Thornhill [sic.], you aren't going to be quizzin me on all these folks names are ya? My noggin is too tired."
Toblin Stonehill looks sharply at Nosam for a moment, but decides that the dwarf is simply speaking the truth and does not correct him.
“No, Mr Lightfound, there’ll be no test. Except, I might ask on the morrow what’s thornier: a thorn stuck in a finger, or a finger stuck under a stone. Thinkin on that’ll help one fall t sleep straight and true.”
Kiselina deeply appreciates Toblen’s arrangements and respects the innkeepers sensibilities (no weapons in the common room). He has meet many a soul who complains, but Toblen’s they seem different. It may be the fact that the complaints aren’t much about anything, or perhaps that they are things beyond one’s control (weather and what not).
“Long DAYS on the road” the Paladin corrects, meaning no harm but simply emphasizing the length.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elsa.” He give a short bow upon her introduction.
In his room, Kiselina drops his gear, all of it. Storing it where appropriate, wardrobe/footlocker/in a corner. The javelins and shield are more readily available than anything else, just in-case.
He spends sometime cleaning up, the warm bath an unexpected accommodation and makes a mental note to add soap to the items he needs before continuing on his adventures.
Kiselina arrives back in the common room to find nearly everyone there. He catches Elsa’s eye and requests two helpings of the stew. “Famished, haven’t eaten in a full day.” He remarks. He also orders a pitcher of wine. He’ll drink a cup of Marten’s ale and offers the wine to any who would prefer, but after the communal ale he sticks to the wine. He’ll give 2gp to Elsa or Toblen, “for the room and food, and for yourselves.”
To Vidruth, “As for the Cragmaw Goblins, can’t say I know much about them.” (History: 18)
vidruth looks grim "we will speak of this later i suppose. kiselina, I am sorry if this is unnecessary to say, but we cant do anything about this. not an insult or anything just i am used to paladins trying to solve every problem and we have no time"
Addressing the concern of too many tasks at hand, the Paladin says, “All problems have a solution, sometimes the solution sorts itself out without our intervention. If Bahamut wishes for me to address the ‘Redbrands’, there will be other indicators. For now, my next undertaking, if I’m interpreting the Platinum Dragon’s plan, is to seek and return Gundren, or inform the Rockseeker brothers of their sibling’s possible dilemma.”
He adds in, “It was an insult, but I can understand your trepidation. We barely know each other, what other basis would you have to assume my actions but the experience of dealing with other paladins.I hope, Master wizard, in time I’ll help you redefine your position of Paladins.” With this he offers Vidruth a glass, and toasts, “To new (and unusual) friendships that lead to honor”.
“Thanks Marten,” he says and takes a pint of ale, listening to Vidruth. After saying their part, Berry begins to describe in detail the way that he observed when he followed the goblin up to the hills before he turned around. “If I would have known that we continue our way with the wagon, I would have pressed to try and find the lair’s entrance. But I think it shouldn’t be too far from where I left the goblin and there is a path to follow.”
Marten listens again with interest. "Well now, ye did a good job, Berry. None of us could've made it up the goblins' trail fast enough to see where that one was goin'. Don' worry. Even if the goblins cleared the horses, I'm certain I c'n find that spot again. I won't soon forget it! We'll find their trail tomorrow and follow it back to their hideout. Or we could look for another way 'round, perhaps? Find their hideout without walking up their trail in case they lay traps there before we get back."
Thinking about the next day, Marten appears focused and interested, but he suddenly looks uncomfortable. He asks, "Is...uh...everyone planning to go look for Gundren? I mean...um...Berry, I guess yer in? You wanted to go search for Gundren yesterday. And I'll go. But, well...we finished the job got our pay. No one asked us to rescue Gundren." He looks around the table as he talks, realizing that he doesn't know much about his fellow travelers for the last 3 days. They were steady on the trip from Neverwinter, and the group was quick and effective in handling the goblin ambush. But are they ready to raid a goblin stronghold?
Not sure where to look, Marten looks down at his stew and says, "I jus' mean...no disrespect. I don' blame anyone who don' wanna go back tomorrow. It's not the job ye' signed up for in Neverwinter, and crawlin' into a wolf's den is sure more dangerous than scaring away a lone wolf from the flock."
Kiselina passes a glass of wine to the Fairy, he emphasis Marten’s points and adds, “Do not think low of yourself Master Berry. I for one am looking forward to following you back to the goblins and seeing what we can find of Gundren. I’ll be behind you as it can not be denied how brave and honorable you appear.
Finally, when Marten asks who is in for searching for Gundren, the Dragonborn confirms, once again that he’s in…after a stop at Barthen’s.
Vidruth: "I would like some stew and bread" he requests of elsa, leaving a gold piece on the table as payment
Daphyra asks Elsa for a mug of cider and some bread and cheese, parting with another couple of silver.
As I said, Elsa cheerily pours you drinks, and takes your payment and makes change. However, she seems to have left her earlier chattiness behind. When she approaches, one arm is crossed over her waist, the elbow of the other resting upon it and a lithe hand holding her throat as if doing so will keep words from spilling up and out of her mouth. Yet, though her words are few, her eyes glisten merrily.
She sits behind the counter reading an old book with a bookmark that looks like a folded letter until you need something.
Marten and Daphyra (with their 15+ perception scores) notice that she is peeking wide-eyed over the top of her book, most particularly at Berry, Daphyra and Kiselina.
@Ben_Evolant: (OOC: @1973 - Should we all roll a history check or do you want a "group check" to see what the party can cobble together about the Cragmaws from the bits that everyone can remember?)
Vidruth’s knowledge of goblins is first-hand and exceeds that of anyone else in the party. Vidruth has already made a history roll for this, so you’re all set on that front. Let's say that the tribe hasn't exactly made the front page of the Neverwinter Nights.
However, now that you are thinking about history, now that you’re in Phandalin, you may recall something about the town.
Thinking about the next day, Marten appears focused and interested, but he suddenly looks uncomfortable. He asks, "Is...uh...everyone planning to go look for Gundren? I mean...um...Berry, I guess yer in? You wanted to go search for Gundren yesterday. And I'll go. But, well...we finished the job got our pay. No one asked us to rescue Gundren." He looks around the table as he talks, realizing that he doesn't know much about his fellow travelers for the last 3 days. They were steady on the trip from Neverwinter, and the group was quick and effective in handling the goblin ambush. But are they ready to raid a goblin stronghold?
Not sure where to look, Marten looks down at his stew and says, "I jus' mean...no disrespect. I don' blame anyone who don' wanna go back tomorrow. It's not the job ye' signed up for in Neverwinter, and crawlin' into a wolf's den is sure more dangerous than scaring away a lone wolf from the flock."
"there is no way in hell im leaving that old bastard to die without trying to help him, and to die to goblins" vidruth stares glassily at a wall for a moment shivering, then states firmly. "nope, not happening, Im with you in saving him"
(history 13)
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This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
Kiselina: “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elsa.” He give a short bow upon her introduction”
Elsa’s eyes go wide with delight, her mouth an open-mouthed smile. Remembering herself, her jaw clicks shut and she makes a very quick curtsy, still smiling.
Kiselina: To Vidruth, “As for the Cragmaw Goblins, can’t say I know much about them.” (History: 18)
Please see my Post #168 (we cross-posted here):
@Ben_Evolant: (OOC: @1973 - Should we all roll a history check or do you want a "group check" to see what the party can cobble together about the Cragmaws from the bits that everyone can remember?)
@DM: Vidruth’s knowledge of goblins is first-hand and exceeds that of anyone else in the party. Vidruth has already made a history roll for this, so you’re all set on that front. Let's say that the tribe hasn't exactly made the front page of the Neverwinter Nights.
"Kiselina, how do you request help from your gods? Is it not unbelievably presumptuous and imply that they are there for you not you for them?"
Between bites of strew, and drinks, Kiselina answers. “Well, I suppose we are always asking for assistance from the gods, aren’t we? Wether we acknowledge it or not. Any hope you have is a request of sorts, any plea even if to another individual, might just as easily be heard by a god. Being mindful that the hearts desire may be known by beings more powerful than ourselves means to me that I must be diligent in all thoughts. But for me, I only mentally and verbally request Bahamut’s assistance, through prayer, for that which is greatest of need. So, yes, they are ‘there for us’. But it runs the other way as well, ‘we are there for them.’ For often times, they use us to accomplish tasks for them. We, are a resource for them, a tool to be applied to a problem, a possible solution to a conflict.
With that, Kiselina offers up a toast, “To Bahamut, may they use us to restore Justice to a world in need!”
Daphyra sips slowly from her mug, savouring the comfort of a warm fire and being indoors.
As Marten asks about the group's plans, Daphyra shakes her head. "I am sorry but I do not think I will be able to help you all assist Gundren at this time. I am supposed to be here at the temp-- I mean, uh, shrine. Maybe once I have spoken with the Sister tomorrow... maybe my duties will allow some time. Actually, my duties... Really, I think I should tell the sister that helping search for Gundren actually is part of my duties!" Her fur puffs up slightly as she continues, and her ears perk upwards. "After all, my domain is Twilight, and who needs the Goddess's help more than someone who has been kidnapped!?"
She places her empty tankard on the table with a decisive thump. "Yes, I will assist. As soon as I have spoken with the Sister at the shrine tomorrow."
She wanders to the bar to refill her tankard and asks Elsa about her book. "What are you reading, Mistress? I am fond of a good book, too."
Daphyra: What are you reading, Mistress? I am fond of a good book, too.
“Erm, wot? No, it’s not called ‘Mistress,’ it’s called ‘That Time I Got Drunk And Saved A Demon!,’ ” she says, excitedly, turning the book wide open to show the jacket. “It’s about Cinnamon the spice farmer, who has done her best to avoid going on any grand quest, so of course the first day she dyes her hair pink she drunkenly stumbles upon a demon who can shift into a dragon at will, and…,” she trails off.
She’d noticed the look in Daphyra’s eye telling her that no, that’s not what she was saying at all, from the moment she, Elsa, had lowered her book. But it was as if the words had been trapped, waiting to break free and they fell out in a tumble and just kept falling. But she does correct herself.
“You were just saying hi. Silly me!, it’s just…do call me Elsa, Milady!, and also it’s hard not to speak when talking is the most fun part of the job, and Mr Stonehill told me to let you rest and 'not suffer my running at the mouth,' so... Oh!”
Here, she interrupts herself again, for a moment earlier, her bookmark had slipped from its place and fell onto the counter, unfolding slightly. It’s a crisp square of parchment folded neatly in half. The first words are visible, and they read, “Dear Friends of Gundren Rockseeker.”
“Oh! I almost forgot! I put this here to remind me, but I just am not used to seeing ummm, not to be rude Milady, cuz I didn’t mean to stare if I were, but I never saw a harendaly or a dragonflywingman nor a dragonblooded though I’ve read of them--you, Milady-- before. But only in books. This is for you all. Mr Barthen stopped by and asked me to give it you when you were down for supper.”
She quickly picks up the note and hands it to Daphyra with a curtsy.
The letter, written in neat, firm script accustomed to making efficient use of ledgers and manifests, asks your aid and offers some aid in return.
Dear Friends of G.R.,
It pains me greatly to think of G suffering at the evil fancy of goblins. You look as able to rescue him as anyone around here could. Though anyone here who could confront the bandits won’t, and who could blame them, what with our own troubles. I’ll be open by dawn tomorrow. If I can offer at least full stomachs for your journey to find him, then allow me to help in that small way.
–E.Barthen
(OOC: That Time I Got Drunk and Saved A Demon by Kimberly Lemming [avail. 2024.01.02])
Berry sits unquiet and doesn’t seem to be able to find a comfortable sitting position. He shifts left and right, and rocks his chair forth and back during dinner. When Marten asks the group, Berry replies, “I still want to help Gundren. I owe him that much,” he states while taking sips from his mug. “I don’t actually have anything else to do,” he adds, “I’ve never been here.” Being used to stares and public attention for all kind of reasons, Berry doesn’t think anything of Elsa’s attention, or perhaps, she finds him attractive? Unable to sit still any longer, he takes out his flute and plays his repertoire of songs appropriate for the flow of ale.
(History: 3, Performance: 16 - rolled Nature because the phone scrolled up unexpectedly)
vidruth elbows berry goodnaturedly "ye hear that?" he asks "yer a dragonflywingman, real interesting name. better than some ive been called for sure" he laughs and takes another bite of his stew.
once again, when berry starts to play vidruth attempts to match him with mountain sounds and drumming
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This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic byVitaly S Alexius
"Well well, Stonehill is a man of riddles… now you'll have me stumped all evening, ha and I don't just mean my stature."
Nosam voraciously consumes the stew eagerly anticipating the dessert, the mug of ale. He thinks highly of his awareness and observational skills, but in this moment, whether it be the food, drink, or tiredness, he is sorely lacking. He hears the conversation, but isn't all that focused until he hears a question from Marten involving "planning to go look for Gundren?" Nosam chewed up almost all the remaining food and chimed in abruptly, "Bah, of course I'm in, we all should be in. I don't know everything about all of ya, and I'm no man of high repute, but I think it's simply the right thing to do. Someone is in trouble. I can't not help, not again. I warn all of ya, it's a bad road to go; eats at your mind always." He briefly pauses long enough to finish swallowing his food finally and slams back the first half of the mug. "Any contrary opinions in my mind are hogwash." Nosam considers just how much his short rant made him sound like his father, the esteemed Mirah Lightfound.
She places her empty tankard on the table with a decisive thump. "Yes, I will assist. As soon as I have spoken with the Sister at the shrine tomorrow.”
As Kiselina begins on his second helping of mutton stew, he say to Daphyra, “If the Mistress doesn’t mind the company, I’d be willing to escort you to the shrine and meet Sister Garaele. Get a feeling for all the religious leadership in the area and town. To see, not replace or overshadow Tymora nor Bastet, but to see what praise other gods receive in these parts of the world.”
With that he goes to hand Daphyra a glass of wine but discovers her departed from the table, oblivious of when see departed. (And also unaware of Elsa’s fawning over the three.)
In short order, you finish your meals, and Elsa clears the plates away.
(OOC: feel free to continue/wrap up your conversations as we shift to the next scene.).
Too full now to comfortably lie down to sleep, despite the physical toll of the day, you shift into the common room where a fire crackles welcomingly in the hearth, above which a miner’s pick and shovel hang crossed upon the wall, and for a few minutes, perhaps there is silence. There are no other guests at the Inn this night. You are conscious that just beyond the thick glass windows of the common room, Phandalin sleeps, or at least, mostly sleeps. Phandalin. A place which for Daphyra will embody the next chapter of her life – at least, so she believes. For the others, a place which, for the last three days, has signified little more than the completion of a journey, and collection of payment.
Your eyes drift to the prospector’s shovels, and your mind, to the innkeeper’s tale – he’d come to Phandalin to prospect, at first, he told you. And this reminds you of something else.
There are old stories drifting on the breeze here – so old they might have been that no one remembers them in their entirety. Ancient treasure lying in cobwebbed silence somewhere in the nearby hills.
Kiselina, alone of the six of you, remembers far more:
More than five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as the Phandelver’s Pact, by which they would share a rich mine in a wondrous cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. In addition to its mineral wealth, the mine contained great magical power. Human spellcasters allied themselves with the dwarves and gnomes to channel and bind that energy into a great forge (called the Forge of Spells), where magic items could be crafted. Times were good, and the nearby human town of Phandalin prospered as well. But then disaster struck when orcs swept through the North and laid waste to all in their path.
A powerful force of orcs reinforced by evil mercenary wizards attacked Wave Echo Cave to seize its riches and magic treasures. Human wizards fought alongside their dwarf and gnome allies to defend the Forge of Spells, and the ensuing spell battle destroyed much of the cavern. Few survived the cave-ins and tremors, and the location of Wave Echo Cave was lost.
(OOC: @kohlmetz, feel free to elaborate as to how this interacts with draconic history and why it therefore is Kiselina alone who calls this history to mind.)
Kiselina believes he has made his intentions clear, one can only mentioned something a certain number of times before it’s just too repetitive. Either they hear you and got it, or they’re ignoring you and you have to move on. With this on his mind, he finishes the meal and listens to the chatter of the others.
He spends the rest of the meal answering any other questions anyone has of him personally. He withholds his own inquiries of others for the time, he has not the mental capacity currently for deeper discussions.
As the meal closes, and Elsa cleans up, he grabs his glass and what might be left of the wine for a comfortable seat near the fire. He takes in the ambiance, enjoying the fruit-of-the-grape slowly, to aid in digestion.
His mind wanders over the events since hearing Gundren’s request from his father, dozing as he relaxes. Never a great student, he has been able to recall facts quite well. He remembers his studies at the temple, tales from other more seasoned knights, books of lore from the library, ‘…knew a lot more about running an inn than I do about mining…’, ‘…found something big…’
WHAT WAS THAT? The Dragonborn’s eyes snap open and he sits up, waking from the dozing!
“Gundren mentioned something about the Rocksetter brothers finding ‘something big’.” He ponders out loud among any other conversation being had.
He hadn’t been able to place the name before, not a great mind for linguistics, but he knew the name was familiar. He’d never been to Phandalin before, never been much further that just outside Neverwinter. That was why he always wanted to call the town something longer, closer to the Draconic Fandelvir. It had to do with the Phandelver Pact. “Where did I first see mention of that?” And “What was that again?” He strains to recall what he knew.
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Stonehill’s friendly chattiness peters to a halt, he takes a breath, and answers soberly, “I think it’s best for my guests’ safety that I mention them early on so no one is surprised.” He lowers his voice to a level inaudible more than a few feet away. “Redbrands,” he growls, “are a bunch of hooligans. And some would say, worse than hooligans. Now I won’t go into details at this moment…You should rest up, eat. Nothin to worry about here in the Stonehill Inn: a slice of the heavens, we’ve got here, eh? But before you go out again, especially at night, you find me or Elsa. She knows the score, and ask us again. Now, if you’ll excuse me please, I need to speak with the cook.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
vidruth looks grim "we will speak of this later i suppose. kiselina, I am sorry if this is unnecessary to say, but we cant do anything about this. not an insult or anything just i am used to paladins trying to solve every problem and we have no time"
a while later, back in the common room vidruth eats his stew as he speaks, happy to be off the road and somewhere more comfortable
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
Marten smiles at the dwarf. "Heh! He'p yerself Nosam, sir! And thank'e." He feels comfortable around Nosam, who seems to him like a blunt, uncomplicated sort of fellow.
Marten listens again with interest. "Well now, ye did a good job, Berry. None of us could've made it up the goblins' trail fast enough to see where that one was goin'. Don' worry. Even if the goblins cleared the horses, I'm certain I c'n find that spot again. I won't soon forget it! We'll find their trail tomorrow and follow it back to their hideout. Or we could look for another way 'round, perhaps? Find their hideout without walking up their trail in case they lay traps there before we get back."
Thinking about the next day, Marten appears focused and interested, but he suddenly looks uncomfortable. He asks, "Is...uh...everyone planning to go look for Gundren? I mean...um...Berry, I guess yer in? You wanted to go search for Gundren yesterday. And I'll go. But, well...we finished the job got our pay. No one asked us to rescue Gundren." He looks around the table as he talks, realizing that he doesn't know much about his fellow travelers for the last 3 days. They were steady on the trip from Neverwinter, and the group was quick and effective in handling the goblin ambush. But are they ready to raid a goblin stronghold?
Not sure where to look, Marten looks down at his stew and says, "I jus' mean...no disrespect. I don' blame anyone who don' wanna go back tomorrow. It's not the job ye' signed up for in Neverwinter, and crawlin' into a wolf's den is sure more dangerous than scaring away a lone wolf from the flock."
(OOC: @1973 - Should we all roll a history check or do you want a "group check" to see what the party can cobble together about the Cragmaws from the bits that everyone can remember?)
Toblin Stonehill looks sharply at Nosam for a moment, but decides that the dwarf is simply speaking the truth and does not correct him.
“No, Mr Lightfound, there’ll be no test. Except, I might ask on the morrow what’s thornier: a thorn stuck in a finger, or a finger stuck under a stone. Thinkin on that’ll help one fall t sleep straight and true.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Kiselina deeply appreciates Toblen’s arrangements and respects the innkeepers sensibilities (no weapons in the common room). He has meet many a soul who complains, but Toblen’s they seem different. It may be the fact that the complaints aren’t much about anything, or perhaps that they are things beyond one’s control (weather and what not).
“Long DAYS on the road” the Paladin corrects, meaning no harm but simply emphasizing the length.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elsa.” He give a short bow upon her introduction.
In his room, Kiselina drops his gear, all of it. Storing it where appropriate, wardrobe/footlocker/in a corner. The javelins and shield are more readily available than anything else, just in-case.
He spends sometime cleaning up, the warm bath an unexpected accommodation and makes a mental note to add soap to the items he needs before continuing on his adventures.
Kiselina arrives back in the common room to find nearly everyone there. He catches Elsa’s eye and requests two helpings of the stew. “Famished, haven’t eaten in a full day.” He remarks. He also orders a pitcher of wine. He’ll drink a cup of Marten’s ale and offers the wine to any who would prefer, but after the communal ale he sticks to the wine. He’ll give 2gp to Elsa or Toblen, “for the room and food, and for yourselves.”
To Vidruth, “As for the Cragmaw Goblins, can’t say I know much about them.” (History: 18)
Addressing the concern of too many tasks at hand, the Paladin says, “All problems have a solution, sometimes the solution sorts itself out without our intervention. If Bahamut wishes for me to address the ‘Redbrands’, there will be other indicators. For now, my next undertaking, if I’m interpreting the Platinum Dragon’s plan, is to seek and return Gundren, or inform the Rockseeker brothers of their sibling’s possible dilemma.”
He adds in, “It was an insult, but I can understand your trepidation. We barely know each other, what other basis would you have to assume my actions but the experience of dealing with other paladins. I hope, Master wizard, in time I’ll help you redefine your position of Paladins.” With this he offers Vidruth a glass, and toasts, “To new (and unusual) friendships that lead to honor”.
Kiselina passes a glass of wine to the Fairy, he emphasis Marten’s points and adds, “Do not think low of yourself Master Berry. I for one am looking forward to following you back to the goblins and seeing what we can find of Gundren. I’ll be behind you as it can not be denied how brave and honorable you appear.
Finally, when Marten asks who is in for searching for Gundren, the Dragonborn confirms, once again that he’s in…after a stop at Barthen’s.
As I said, Elsa cheerily pours you drinks, and takes your payment and makes change. However, she seems to have left her earlier chattiness behind. When she approaches, one arm is crossed over her waist, the elbow of the other resting upon it and a lithe hand holding her throat as if doing so will keep words from spilling up and out of her mouth. Yet, though her words are few, her eyes glisten merrily.
She sits behind the counter reading an old book with a bookmark that looks like a folded letter until you need something.
Marten and Daphyra (with their 15+ perception scores) notice that she is peeking wide-eyed over the top of her book, most particularly at Berry, Daphyra and Kiselina.
Vidruth’s knowledge of goblins is first-hand and exceeds that of anyone else in the party. Vidruth has already made a history roll for this, so you’re all set on that front. Let's say that the tribe hasn't exactly made the front page of the Neverwinter Nights.
However, now that you are thinking about history, now that you’re in Phandalin, you may recall something about the town.
Everyone please make a History Check.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
"there is no way in hell im leaving that old bastard to die without trying to help him, and to die to goblins" vidruth stares glassily at a wall for a moment shivering, then states firmly. "nope, not happening, Im with you in saving him"
(history 13)
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
Elsa’s eyes go wide with delight, her mouth an open-mouthed smile. Remembering herself, her jaw clicks shut and she makes a very quick curtsy, still smiling.
Please see my Post #168 (we cross-posted here):
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Between bites of strew, and drinks, Kiselina answers. “Well, I suppose we are always asking for assistance from the gods, aren’t we? Wether we acknowledge it or not. Any hope you have is a request of sorts, any plea even if to another individual, might just as easily be heard by a god. Being mindful that the hearts desire may be known by beings more powerful than ourselves means to me that I must be diligent in all thoughts. But for me, I only mentally and verbally request Bahamut’s assistance, through prayer, for that which is greatest of need. So, yes, they are ‘there for us’. But it runs the other way as well, ‘we are there for them.’ For often times, they use us to accomplish tasks for them. We, are a resource for them, a tool to be applied to a problem, a possible solution to a conflict.
With that, Kiselina offers up a toast, “To Bahamut, may they use us to restore Justice to a world in need!”
Marten: History 9
Daphyra sips slowly from her mug, savouring the comfort of a warm fire and being indoors.
As Marten asks about the group's plans, Daphyra shakes her head. "I am sorry but I do not think I will be able to help you all assist Gundren at this time. I am supposed to be here at the temp-- I mean, uh, shrine. Maybe once I have spoken with the Sister tomorrow... maybe my duties will allow some time. Actually, my duties... Really, I think I should tell the sister that helping search for Gundren actually is part of my duties!" Her fur puffs up slightly as she continues, and her ears perk upwards. "After all, my domain is Twilight, and who needs the Goddess's help more than someone who has been kidnapped!?"
She places her empty tankard on the table with a decisive thump. "Yes, I will assist. As soon as I have spoken with the Sister at the shrine tomorrow."
She wanders to the bar to refill her tankard and asks Elsa about her book. "What are you reading, Mistress? I am fond of a good book, too."
(History roll = 2. :D )
Past characters:
Cariadne - Forest of Celador
Daphyra Fuffletail - The City of Cats
DM - Geek Legends - Wild beyond the Witchlight
Leela Steadystone - Adventures in the Sands
Mirri Goldenhorn - Journeys through the Radiant Citadel
Lola Smythe-Whyte - Larkin Expedition
Daphyra - Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver
Vanja - Binder's Hold and the Problem with the Mine
“Erm, wot? No, it’s not called ‘Mistress,’ it’s called ‘That Time I Got Drunk And Saved A Demon!,’ ” she says, excitedly, turning the book wide open to show the jacket. “It’s about Cinnamon the spice farmer, who has done her best to avoid going on any grand quest, so of course the first day she dyes her hair pink she drunkenly stumbles upon a demon who can shift into a dragon at will, and…,” she trails off.
She’d noticed the look in Daphyra’s eye telling her that no, that’s not what she was saying at all, from the moment she, Elsa, had lowered her book. But it was as if the words had been trapped, waiting to break free and they fell out in a tumble and just kept falling. But she does correct herself.
“You were just saying hi. Silly me!, it’s just…do call me Elsa, Milady!, and also it’s hard not to speak when talking is the most fun part of the job, and Mr Stonehill told me to let you rest and 'not suffer my running at the mouth,' so... Oh!”
Here, she interrupts herself again, for a moment earlier, her bookmark had slipped from its place and fell onto the counter, unfolding slightly. It’s a crisp square of parchment folded neatly in half. The first words are visible, and they read, “Dear Friends of Gundren Rockseeker.”
“Oh! I almost forgot! I put this here to remind me, but I just am not used to seeing ummm, not to be rude Milady, cuz I didn’t mean to stare if I were, but I never saw a harendaly or a dragonflywingman nor a dragonblooded though I’ve read of them--you, Milady-- before. But only in books. This is for you all. Mr Barthen stopped by and asked me to give it you when you were down for supper.”
She quickly picks up the note and hands it to Daphyra with a curtsy.
The letter, written in neat, firm script accustomed to making efficient use of ledgers and manifests, asks your aid and offers some aid in return.
(OOC: That Time I Got Drunk and Saved A Demon by Kimberly Lemming [avail. 2024.01.02])
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Berry sits unquiet and doesn’t seem to be able to find a comfortable sitting position. He shifts left and right, and rocks his chair forth and back during dinner. When Marten asks the group, Berry replies, “I still want to help Gundren. I owe him that much,” he states while taking sips from his mug. “I don’t actually have anything else to do,” he adds, “I’ve never been here.” Being used to stares and public attention for all kind of reasons, Berry doesn’t think anything of Elsa’s attention, or perhaps, she finds him attractive? Unable to sit still any longer, he takes out his flute and plays his repertoire of songs appropriate for the flow of ale.
(History: 3, Performance: 16 - rolled Nature because the phone scrolled up unexpectedly)
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
History 5
vidruth elbows berry goodnaturedly "ye hear that?" he asks "yer a dragonflywingman, real interesting name. better than some ive been called for sure" he laughs and takes another bite of his stew.
once again, when berry starts to play vidruth attempts to match him with mountain sounds and drumming
This Mug immediately shared with me a transcendental tale of an Infinite Mug that anchors the Universe and keeps it from folding in on itself. I filed this report under "illogical nonsense" and asked why its sign is in Times New Roman font, when it is basic knowledge that Arial Black is a far superior font. I wondered: How did this mug even get past the assembly line with its theistic beliefs and poor font choices?
quote from Romantically Apocalyptic by Vitaly S Alexius
"Well well, Stonehill is a man of riddles… now you'll have me stumped all evening, ha and I don't just mean my stature."
Nosam voraciously consumes the stew eagerly anticipating the dessert, the mug of ale. He thinks highly of his awareness and observational skills, but in this moment, whether it be the food, drink, or tiredness, he is sorely lacking. He hears the conversation, but isn't all that focused until he hears a question from Marten involving "planning to go look for Gundren?" Nosam chewed up almost all the remaining food and chimed in abruptly, "Bah, of course I'm in, we all should be in. I don't know everything about all of ya, and I'm no man of high repute, but I think it's simply the right thing to do. Someone is in trouble. I can't not help, not again. I warn all of ya, it's a bad road to go; eats at your mind always." He briefly pauses long enough to finish swallowing his food finally and slams back the first half of the mug. "Any contrary opinions in my mind are hogwash." Nosam considers just how much his short rant made him sound like his father, the esteemed Mirah Lightfound.
(OOC, History roll in post 176. Rolled a 5.)
As Kiselina begins on his second helping of mutton stew, he say to Daphyra, “If the Mistress doesn’t mind the company, I’d be willing to escort you to the shrine and meet Sister Garaele. Get a feeling for all the religious leadership in the area and town. To see, not replace or overshadow Tymora nor Bastet, but to see what praise other gods receive in these parts of the world.”
With that he goes to hand Daphyra a glass of wine but discovers her departed from the table, oblivious of when see departed. (And also unaware of Elsa’s fawning over the three.)
In short order, you finish your meals, and Elsa clears the plates away.
(OOC: feel free to continue/wrap up your conversations as we shift to the next scene.).
Too full now to comfortably lie down to sleep, despite the physical toll of the day, you shift into the common room where a fire crackles welcomingly in the hearth, above which a miner’s pick and shovel hang crossed upon the wall, and for a few minutes, perhaps there is silence. There are no other guests at the Inn this night. You are conscious that just beyond the thick glass windows of the common room, Phandalin sleeps, or at least, mostly sleeps. Phandalin. A place which for Daphyra will embody the next chapter of her life – at least, so she believes. For the others, a place which, for the last three days, has signified little more than the completion of a journey, and collection of payment.
Your eyes drift to the prospector’s shovels, and your mind, to the innkeeper’s tale – he’d come to Phandalin to prospect, at first, he told you. And this reminds you of something else.
There are old stories drifting on the breeze here – so old they might have been that no one remembers them in their entirety. Ancient treasure lying in cobwebbed silence somewhere in the nearby hills.
Kiselina, alone of the six of you, remembers far more:
(OOC: @kohlmetz, feel free to elaborate as to how this interacts with draconic history and why it therefore is Kiselina alone who calls this history to mind.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Kiselina believes he has made his intentions clear, one can only mentioned something a certain number of times before it’s just too repetitive. Either they hear you and got it, or they’re ignoring you and you have to move on. With this on his mind, he finishes the meal and listens to the chatter of the others.
He spends the rest of the meal answering any other questions anyone has of him personally. He withholds his own inquiries of others for the time, he has not the mental capacity currently for deeper discussions.
As the meal closes, and Elsa cleans up, he grabs his glass and what might be left of the wine for a comfortable seat near the fire. He takes in the ambiance, enjoying the fruit-of-the-grape slowly, to aid in digestion.
His mind wanders over the events since hearing Gundren’s request from his father, dozing as he relaxes. Never a great student, he has been able to recall facts quite well. He remembers his studies at the temple, tales from other more seasoned knights, books of lore from the library, ‘…knew a lot more about running an inn than I do about mining…’, ‘…found something big…’
WHAT WAS THAT? The Dragonborn’s eyes snap open and he sits up, waking from the dozing!
“Gundren mentioned something about the Rocksetter brothers finding ‘something big’.” He ponders out loud among any other conversation being had.
He hadn’t been able to place the name before, not a great mind for linguistics, but he knew the name was familiar. He’d never been to Phandalin before, never been much further that just outside Neverwinter. That was why he always wanted to call the town something longer, closer to the Draconic Fandelvir. It had to do with the Phandelver Pact. “Where did I first see mention of that?” And “What was that again?” He strains to recall what he knew.