(Sorry, accident turned into something bigger so responses will be sporadic for a while.)
"Well, shall I offer you all a meal then? Or would you all like to see where the citadel is?" Madame Hucrele asks after leading the party to her guest house. It's a quaint home, two bedrooms and a hearth.
"From what my children told me, they planned to descend down from the old road into the citadel."
Damay looks about. "Perhaps we can scout a bit before a meal, the more information we have the better. Now that we are sitting still, I would like to see what I can learn about citidel, would you suggest the town hall or the shrine to have potential historical literature on the matter? I shall like to check both locations regardless. Lack of information can be as deadly as any foe." Damay was used to researching and pulling information out of abstract writing, bit now that he is closer to physically have to investigate, he half worries he is using information gathering as an excuse more then a crutch.
Khazela pads through Oakhurst, quills low, eyes counting doors—hall, jail, shrine, smith, inn—mapping exits and alleys in silence. At the guest house threshold she nods to Kerowyn. “Show where citadel path begins,” she says, clipped and calm. “We go at dawn—fresh feet, clear eyes.” She checks straps, oils blades, waits.
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Sorry, I'm beginning to enter a vacation period and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
"Books? Well...I'd doubt either would have it. Most of what we know has just been legends about it. It happened long before Oakhurst came to be. Frankly speaking, I think that Garon, the innkeep, knows most about the legend, since my children mainly heard it from him."
"And the Old road is over here, hard to miss with the Ashen plains in sight." Hucrele points over to the edge of the village where a worn out fence hobbles in the wind. The road it borders has a grey plains to one side, spanning the fields with no fauna in sight and a narrow ravine on the other.
Angus joins Dantos as they begin to stride towards the inn. The more information about the Citadel the party has, the more prepared they’ll be. Even if they don’t uncover much, it would be beneficial at least have some knowledge that aligns to the same level the lost adventurers had when they entered; it would certainly be embarrassing to get caught in some sort of trap or pitfall that the people meant to be saved had known to avoid.
Caldrin listened to the discussion with a quiet, thoughtful expression, fingers absently brushing the cover of the small, weatherworn spellbook at his side. The mention of “legends” had drawn a faint spark of interest—often, there was more truth in myth than its tellers realized—but he agreed with Damay’s point. Information, even fragmentary, was worth collecting before they set foot near the citadel.
“I’ll accompany you to the inn,” he said, his tone measured. “If this Garon knows the stories well enough to pass them on, I’d like to hear the unpolished version before it’s lost to retelling. Details sometimes hide in the cracks between a storyteller’s words.”
At the doorway, he paused to murmur a soft command. A rush of air and the faint whisper of feathers heralded his owl’s arrival from a nearby rooftop. It alighted on the fence post outside, head tilting as if already listening for trouble. “Keep watch here for now,” Caldrin instructed it quietly, then stepped back to the group. “The rest of you can decide if you prefer scouting the road now or waiting until dawn. Either way, we will want a clear plan before we descend.”
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(Sorry, accident turned into something bigger so responses will be sporadic for a while.)
"Well, shall I offer you all a meal then? Or would you all like to see where the citadel is?" Madame Hucrele asks after leading the party to her guest house. It's a quaint home, two bedrooms and a hearth.
"From what my children told me, they planned to descend down from the old road into the citadel."
Damay looks about. "Perhaps we can scout a bit before a meal, the more information we have the better. Now that we are sitting still, I would like to see what I can learn about citidel, would you suggest the town hall or the shrine to have potential historical literature on the matter? I shall like to check both locations regardless. Lack of information can be as deadly as any foe." Damay was used to researching and pulling information out of abstract writing, bit now that he is closer to physically have to investigate, he half worries he is using information gathering as an excuse more then a crutch.
Khazela pads through Oakhurst, quills low, eyes counting doors—hall, jail, shrine, smith, inn—mapping exits and alleys in silence. At the guest house threshold she nods to Kerowyn. “Show where citadel path begins,” she says, clipped and calm. “We go at dawn—fresh feet, clear eyes.” She checks straps, oils blades, waits.
Sorry, I'm beginning to enter a vacation period and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus ||
"Books? Well...I'd doubt either would have it. Most of what we know has just been legends about it. It happened long before Oakhurst came to be. Frankly speaking, I think that Garon, the innkeep, knows most about the legend, since my children mainly heard it from him."
"And the Old road is over here, hard to miss with the Ashen plains in sight." Hucrele points over to the edge of the village where a worn out fence hobbles in the wind. The road it borders has a grey plains to one side, spanning the fields with no fauna in sight and a narrow ravine on the other.
Dantos starts to head towards the tavern, shrugging at the group. A place to start is a place to start.
He feel confident that his friends can handle anything that comes up, real or imagined.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Angus joins Dantos as they begin to stride towards the inn. The more information about the Citadel the party has, the more prepared they’ll be. Even if they don’t uncover much, it would be beneficial at least have some knowledge that aligns to the same level the lost adventurers had when they entered; it would certainly be embarrassing to get caught in some sort of trap or pitfall that the people meant to be saved had known to avoid.
Xaul Lackluster: Half-Orc Fathomless Warlock: Warlock Dragon Heist
Borvnir Chelvnich: Black Dragonborn Barbarian: Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
Pushover Gerilwitz: Tiefling Wizard: Acquisitions Incorporated
Callow Sunken-Eyes: Goliath Arctic Druid: We Are Modron
DMing The 100 Dungeons of the Blood Archivist , The Hunt for the Balowang and Surviving Tempest City!
Killer Queen has already extended this signature, though not by much!
Caldrin listened to the discussion with a quiet, thoughtful expression, fingers absently brushing the cover of the small, weatherworn spellbook at his side. The mention of “legends” had drawn a faint spark of interest—often, there was more truth in myth than its tellers realized—but he agreed with Damay’s point. Information, even fragmentary, was worth collecting before they set foot near the citadel.
“I’ll accompany you to the inn,” he said, his tone measured. “If this Garon knows the stories well enough to pass them on, I’d like to hear the unpolished version before it’s lost to retelling. Details sometimes hide in the cracks between a storyteller’s words.”
At the doorway, he paused to murmur a soft command. A rush of air and the faint whisper of feathers heralded his owl’s arrival from a nearby rooftop. It alighted on the fence post outside, head tilting as if already listening for trouble. “Keep watch here for now,” Caldrin instructed it quietly, then stepped back to the group. “The rest of you can decide if you prefer scouting the road now or waiting until dawn. Either way, we will want a clear plan before we descend.”