In the meantime, Gramdal is still doing his best to tail the Elf creature that suddenly appeared with this wall of thorns! He creeps along in the shadows and keeps to them, making sure to remain unseen. Why is this one here? Where are they going?
"O' course, Arutha. Cooler heads prevailed today, lad. Glad too." Like the party, the Grumblestone Brothers aren't too keen on getting into a scuffle with the Flaming Fist, much less the gold dragonborn marshal, and the Harper agent named Zatarian. "We'll be a waitin' for ye, Arutha at the docks in the Lower City. Look for the Iron Troubador. She flies gray sails."
Graegor gets back onto his feet. Dusting himself off he says, "Beggin' your pardon, marshal, you sure it's safe to let drow into the city?"
Before Zavakk can respond, Traever bares his teeth, hissing. "I'm tired of people like you," he howls, and weaves his hands, producing a globe of darkness that bursts from his chest, engulfing everyone within 10 ft.
As Zavakk disappears into the globe, you see him fumble with a dial. "Please, young man, do not hide." Light emanating from the rod cancels the spell, which falls apart like tattered threads. "Clearly, you are not drow, Traever. Drow despise the light. You stand here in opposition, in broad daylight, never once squinting." The marshal pivots, turning toward the soldiers under his command. He doesn't want to issue the order, but he must. "Return home, gentleman. Go back to your wives and children. I am relieving you for the evening. I shall summon your replacements, and file the report."
Grumbling, the Flaming Fists take their leave. It's not the order they want either, but it's this or as you have said, the situation could escalate. Graegor is of the mind to keep the boy out of the city. Better to diffuse the situation before innocent people get hurt.
Zavakk holds the rod of many detections out before him, dissolving the walls of thorns, clearing the path for the soldiers to head back into the city. To your left, some twenty yards, you see a small crowd gathered around entertainers. A female elf in bright wispy clothing is thrown into the air by four human men. Before she reverses direction and falls back down to the earth, she winks, and then—poof!—she disappears. Her audience gasps. "Oh, where, oh where did our fey lass go?" an entertainer asks. The acrobat reappears, gentling touching the ground. But up she goes once more, thrilling the crowd, performing a routine she has modeled after the tollera.
Kailyin gathers her children and moves closer to the party members who stood by her side when you could have just as easily abandoned her. She thanks you all for your generosity and asks you to point the way to the Purple Wyrm Inn.
Well done, adventurers, you hear Zavakk say in your mind.
* * * * * * *
OOC. And so ends Episode 1: Blood in the Time of Tollera (aka, The Wait at Baldur's Gate). You have completed a story milestone. You each are awarded 100 XP. Enter Baldur's Gate.
I have to say, you guys impressed me. DM'ing for you is a thrill.
Norvalor would like to escort her to the purple wyrm while saying " i could use a drink after that i'll walk you there and i'm sure Cath would join us he did say he would escort you."
With a nervous sigh, Kaiylin moves up on Norvalor's right side, turning her gaze to the city of Baldur's Gate. Her eyes are full of hope, beginnings. "I could use a mug myself."
Sarahlle steps into a light skip, humming contentedly to herself, full of light and happiness. Meanwhile, Traever keeps narrowed eyes fixed on the Flaming Fist soldiers ahead of you, watching them disappear into the city. They salute each other, agreeing to meet up at Kouronath's for friendly company over a roaring hearth.
"What brings you to Baldur's Gate?" The question comes after a long minute. Nevertheless, Kaiylin would much prefer making small talk than walking to the Purple Wyrm in silence.
Cath walks with the other's as they make their way to the Purple Wyrm.
"Adventure M'lady. Baldur's Gate is always full of adventure. And with these rumors of orcs moving more than normal there is more adventure to be had! I think I'll seek out this Lieutenant Omaha in the morning. He sounds like he's got stuff for me to do."
He puts a grin on his face at the thought of hunting orcs.
"But today, its a big mug of ale or five for me and a good nights sleep. Its been too long since I slept in a real bed."
Norvalor smiles and says" I'm on leave and wanted to go back to the city to make sure everything is fine and..." His eye wander to the sky as if revisiting an old memory "i wanted to visit some old friends from my squad when i first join the military."
OOC. I almost forgot! It's time to cast your vote for Most Valuable Player. You guys discuss publicly who is deserving of the title for the last adventure. Once you reach a consensus, I'll make the announcement. What's the criteria? You have to justify why the player is deserving. Could be anything. The Table decides.
OOC: Well this may seem kind of selfish, but I vote for Gramdal. His actions afforded everyone the opportunity to prove their heroism and get in good with Zavakk.
The hairs on Gramdal's neck stand straight up. Primal instincts ignite your reflexes, and you're dropping and rolling to the side before you can register the sound. A streak of purple silvery-light races over your head, missing your skull by hairs-widths , slamming into the stone wall surrounding Baldur's Gate. The spell shatters upon impact, showering the area with small pieces of wood.
The people around you gasp with alarm. The blacksmith working over his anvil looks up. "Ho, ho there! You alright, friend?"
The hairs on Gramdal's neck stand straight up. Primal instincts ignite your reflexes, and you're dropping and rolling to the side before you can register the sound. A streak of purple silvery-light races over your head, missing your skull by hairs-widths , slamming into the stone wall surrounding Baldur's Gate. The spell shatters upon impact, showering the area with small pieces of wood.
The people around you gasp with alarm. The blacksmith working over his anvil looks up. "Ho, ho there! You alright, friend?"
Gramdal's eyes go wide as he feels some unseen danger coming. "Moradin's Beard!" he'll dive and roll behind something, anything, to gain some sort of cover! He'll try to take a look as best he can to find out where that might have come from.
Perception: 10
If the coast seems clear, though, he'll step out from behind whatever cover he found, if any, and dust himself off. He'll turn to the Blacksmith "What in BLAZES was that?!"
In the meantime, Gramdal is still doing his best to tail the Elf creature that suddenly appeared with this wall of thorns! He creeps along in the shadows and keeps to them, making sure to remain unseen. Why is this one here? Where are they going?
A look of relief washed over Cath's face. The thought of fighting Zavakk and the Flaming Fist had no appeal to him.
"I thank you Zavakk. Your leadership is appreciated. I hope that bolt finds its owner and delivers a nice surprise."
Cath looks to the other that came in with Zavakk.
"And who is this? Is he with you?"
"O' course, Arutha. Cooler heads prevailed today, lad. Glad too." Like the party, the Grumblestone Brothers aren't too keen on getting into a scuffle with the Flaming Fist, much less the gold dragonborn marshal, and the Harper agent named Zatarian. "We'll be a waitin' for ye, Arutha at the docks in the Lower City. Look for the Iron Troubador. She flies gray sails."
Gramdal notices the elf turn from the wall surrounding Baldur's Gate toward the Outer City and slip into its streets. You have lost him.
Graegor gets back onto his feet. Dusting himself off he says, "Beggin' your pardon, marshal, you sure it's safe to let drow into the city?"
Before Zavakk can respond, Traever bares his teeth, hissing. "I'm tired of people like you," he howls, and weaves his hands, producing a globe of darkness that bursts from his chest, engulfing everyone within 10 ft.
As Zavakk disappears into the globe, you see him fumble with a dial. "Please, young man, do not hide." Light emanating from the rod cancels the spell, which falls apart like tattered threads. "Clearly, you are not drow, Traever. Drow despise the light. You stand here in opposition, in broad daylight, never once squinting." The marshal pivots, turning toward the soldiers under his command. He doesn't want to issue the order, but he must. "Return home, gentleman. Go back to your wives and children. I am relieving you for the evening. I shall summon your replacements, and file the report."
Grumbling, the Flaming Fists take their leave. It's not the order they want either, but it's this or as you have said, the situation could escalate. Graegor is of the mind to keep the boy out of the city. Better to diffuse the situation before innocent people get hurt.
Zavakk holds the rod of many detections out before him, dissolving the walls of thorns, clearing the path for the soldiers to head back into the city. To your left, some twenty yards, you see a small crowd gathered around entertainers. A female elf in bright wispy clothing is thrown into the air by four human men. Before she reverses direction and falls back down to the earth, she winks, and then—poof!—she disappears. Her audience gasps. "Oh, where, oh where did our fey lass go?" an entertainer asks. The acrobat reappears, gentling touching the ground. But up she goes once more, thrilling the crowd, performing a routine she has modeled after the tollera.
Kailyin gathers her children and moves closer to the party members who stood by her side when you could have just as easily abandoned her. She thanks you all for your generosity and asks you to point the way to the Purple Wyrm Inn.
Well done, adventurers, you hear Zavakk say in your mind.
* * * * * * *
OOC. And so ends Episode 1: Blood in the Time of Tollera (aka, The Wait at Baldur's Gate). You have completed a story milestone. You each are awarded 100 XP. Enter Baldur's Gate.
I have to say, you guys impressed me. DM'ing for you is a thrill.
Norvalor would like to escort her to the purple wyrm while saying " i could use a drink after that i'll walk you there and i'm sure Cath would join us he did say he would escort you."
With a nervous sigh, Kaiylin moves up on Norvalor's right side, turning her gaze to the city of Baldur's Gate. Her eyes are full of hope, beginnings. "I could use a mug myself."
Sarahlle steps into a light skip, humming contentedly to herself, full of light and happiness. Meanwhile, Traever keeps narrowed eyes fixed on the Flaming Fist soldiers ahead of you, watching them disappear into the city. They salute each other, agreeing to meet up at Kouronath's for friendly company over a roaring hearth.
"What brings you to Baldur's Gate?" The question comes after a long minute. Nevertheless, Kaiylin would much prefer making small talk than walking to the Purple Wyrm in silence.
Cath walks with the other's as they make their way to the Purple Wyrm.
"Adventure M'lady. Baldur's Gate is always full of adventure. And with these rumors of orcs moving more than normal there is more adventure to be had! I think I'll seek out this Lieutenant Omaha in the morning. He sounds like he's got stuff for me to do."
He puts a grin on his face at the thought of hunting orcs.
"But today, its a big mug of ale or five for me and a good nights sleep. Its been too long since I slept in a real bed."
Arutha walks with the children and watches them carefully before talking to them.
"So little ones, Where is your father? It can't be easy to be travelling so much in this world with only your mother."
He watches their faces carefully to see what reactions they may have to his question to see if there is any tells. (Perception 13 )
"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
((So what happens with that bolt Zavakk sent hurtling back to Gramdal? lol))
Norvalor smiles and says" I'm on leave and wanted to go back to the city to make sure everything is fine and..." His eye wander to the sky as if revisiting an old memory "i wanted to visit some old friends from my squad when i first join the military."
OOC. I almost forgot! It's time to cast your vote for Most Valuable Player. You guys discuss publicly who is deserving of the title for the last adventure. Once you reach a consensus, I'll make the announcement. What's the criteria? You have to justify why the player is deserving. Could be anything. The Table decides.
In the meantime, there is one last detail that requires your attention, Gramdal. Please, make a Dexterity save.
Ooc: I vote for Cath based on the arguments he gave to protect the woman and children
"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
((Uh oh!))
Dexterity Saving Throw: 24
OOC: Well this may seem kind of selfish, but I vote for Gramdal. His actions afforded everyone the opportunity to prove their heroism and get in good with Zavakk.
OOC: I vote for Arutha for getting in with the dwarf twins and getting sponsored to enter the city.
The hairs on Gramdal's neck stand straight up. Primal instincts ignite your reflexes, and you're dropping and rolling to the side before you can register the sound. A streak of purple silvery-light races over your head, missing your skull by hairs-widths , slamming into the stone wall surrounding Baldur's Gate. The spell shatters upon impact, showering the area with small pieces of wood.
The people around you gasp with alarm. The blacksmith working over his anvil looks up. "Ho, ho there! You alright, friend?"
LOL. I never knew selecting n MVP would be so challenging. I could always roll the dice...??
Gramdal's eyes go wide as he feels some unseen danger coming. "Moradin's Beard!" he'll dive and roll behind something, anything, to gain some sort of cover! He'll try to take a look as best he can to find out where that might have come from.
Perception: 10
If the coast seems clear, though, he'll step out from behind whatever cover he found, if any, and dust himself off. He'll turn to the Blacksmith "What in BLAZES was that?!"