Its a dark, mild evening. A caravan travelling from Neverwinter to the city ofMussum far east has set up camp for the night in the Orsraun Mountains, a days journey from Xorhun. Several campfires are littered throughout the caravan, including one surrounded by 6 adventurers hired to guard the caravan. Some started out with the caravan in Neverwinter, others were picked up along the way, but this particular group has taken an affinity to each other. Destiny has a way of bringing people together, and you all were brought together.
Among those adventurers sits Beshlog Stonebreaker, a massive Goliath. The man really looks like he SHOULD be a Barbarian, but the others have learned over the course of the journey so far that he isn't. He is a Wizard. His skills are minimal in most respects, but, in the art of Abjuration he has a surprising amount of skill. Nearly as much skill as he has bashing heads with his staff... in head-bashing, he is a TRUE master, skilled with his staff in ways no one would expect of a Wizard.
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Another adventurer who sits around that particular fire is Aubrik Lonetusk, one who would likely be considered large if not for his proximity to Beshlog. He is about 6ft tall and stocky, and pretty much always wears full plate armour. In fact, for the first couple of days after he joined the caravan, he did not even remove his helmet in the presence of others. It was only when he did that it was revealed he was in fact an Orc.
He is middle aged for an Orc, with long braided white hair, red eyes and sharp tusks; of which he has the full set, despite the epithet Lonetusk. And he has blue tribal tattoos over his grey body.
Most of the folk travelling with the caravan give him a wide berth having realised he is an Orc, but those around this campfire don't seem to mind. Not that they have mentioned to his face yet, anyway.
But they kept him around, likely due to the fact that he comes with his own arsenal of weaponry, which he spends most evenings tending.
This particular evening, as he sharpens the prongs of his trident, he is wondering about this city of Xorhun. He sits with his helmet placed beside him, along with his shield. He has an array of other weapons laid out close by as well.
"They say we get to Xorhun in one day. What is this Xorhun like?", he asks the others around the campfire in his gruff voice. He is clearly not worried, but often his kind are not welcomed in cities, hence the interest.
Rhys would be tall for an elf if not for his horrible posture. A failed wizard that found Corellon Larerthian in his time of need, Rhys was hired for his ability to heal yet everyone quickly realized that he can sometimes forget that he has healing magic. Having seen his 5th century Rhys is far more interested in burning things to the ground rather than protecting. This has led Rhys to trust even the newest adventurer over all of the members of the caravan. Though Rhys does not sleep every morning he regales the party with stories of the other side. For most this seems like crazy tails but for some reason the party feels stronger after.(Feat Inspiring Leader: Everyone gets 12 Temp HP)
Rhys shrugs his shoulders at Aubrik’s question.
“If I had to guess, it is the same as the last city we were in. Though I can't say as I have never visited myself but having been around for a long time I can say it was never mentioned in all of the stories I have heard.”
The young Tiefling woman had joined the group relatively recently. She had not looked like much of a traveler, let alone a caravan guard. She wore a light low-cut tunic with form fitting pants and a black hooded cloak that matched. She hadn't seemed to be carrying any weapons, though with the first time they got into a scuffle it was clear she could move quickly and strike deftly though unarmed. Not to mention her bardic magic.
Having gotten to know Zherzire, it is clear she was, and is, a performer. An amazing dancer, she would also sing and play her drum. She spoke with a slight accent, Damaran if anyone recognized it. And in fact, from her comments, she considered their current location "the south", rather than "the east" that those from the Sword Coast might think. She was quite charming with her dark skin and bright blue eyes. Her hair was kept no more than shoulder length and was black, like the pointed horns atop her head.
Sitting at the campfire this night, the Tiefling responds to Aubrik in verse: "And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery."
A tarnished silver dragonborn comes back into the circle of firelight from relieving himself in the bush as Zherzire finishes her verse; “That’s real pretty Zherie, you make those up yourself or just have a great memory for stuff you read?”
The 2 meter tall character scoops up Aubrik’s helmet and plops down beside the orc as he inspects it. “Hey Aubrik, you wear this thing so much you should get a filter or perfume enchantment put on it to help with the smell.”Having been a late comer to the troupe, Yorcath Lumidorimattached himself to the orc like an old schoolmate due to the shared experiences of not always being welcome in the cities he visits. “Never could find a helmet to cover the horns well enough to pass off as human, well the tail didn’t help either.”He says with a laugh as he taps on the helmet with his fingers. “Could freeze it if you like, at least it wouldn’t be so hot when you wear it again!” Looking over to Beshlog he leans into Rhys, and says conspiratorially “You really think the big guy needs the health boosts all the time, look at ‘em, if you left him out of the storytime the rest of us would get double the effect!” He winks at the old elf knowing full well the whole thing doesn’t work that way.
Still holding the helmet he smiles as he says “ So, what we here to steal?”
Rhys gives Yorcath a soft smile. Rhys slowly takes out a deck of cards with strange symbols on them and starts shuffling.
“Maybe you are just not believing hard enough to get a stronger effect. Leaving that aside you need not worry about the amount of vitality you receive. I have many ways of protecting you from getting hurt.”
Taking a second to finish shuffling the deck, Rhys draws a card. Showing Yorcath a card with a woman sitting upon a throne.
“Hmm … it seems The Empress follows you. I can not tell you what there will be to steal but it seems that there will be an abundance of things to take.”
Sitting a-top a small mound sat a small gnome- not even reaching three feet in height. A pearl white beard matched with circular framed glasses took over all of his face. He also adorned himself with a pointy green hat, dark green/dirt stained clothes held together with rope, and lastly brown pointy shoes. The gnome, a little nervous to be in the smallest creature present in the group, fidgeted with his spear by drawing in the ground with the butt of it.
"Do ye read cards?" Gar'din said in a small high-pitched voice, asking Rhys. "I happen ta play dice a lot back on tha farm, but I havn't played in a while."
Pulling his pack from his side, he showed his die. "Name is Gar'din! I played with mah die all the time back guardin' gates an' whatev'r. Mah full title granted ta mah-self is Gar'din the Gardenin' Gaurdin' Gnome! Nice ta... meet ye all..." His voice died back down as he looked to who was around him, reminded of his short stature compared to everyone.
“Yes, yes, I do read cards when I have a question I want answered. A quick shuffle like that is unlikely to gain the necessary attention to get an accurate answer but it is nice for finding a direction. It is an honor to meet you Gar’din, at one time my full title was Rhys Everlight of the Ephemeral Pillar but that was more than a century ago. I can't say I have ever played dice but I would be happy to have a game sometime.”
Zherzire grins at Yorcath's question. "It certainly would be more impressive were the words created from my own mind. Alas, more often it is as you said, a good memory for what I've ready and heard." With a chuckle she continues. "Those words were not really meant for Xorhun, but they seemed to fit."
She watches quietly when Rhys shuffles his deck and pulls out a card for the dragonborn. Making no comment, she wonders to herself whether this elf's art has is mere show or might have a touch of actual divination to it.
Aubrik looks across to Rhys, and shrugs. He had not been with them when they reached the last city, having come across the caravan on the road since. Not in need of the gold, he is really tagging along for some company, not that he would ever admit that to anyone. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself, but travelling alone is so different to being part of a tribe.
When Zherzire recites her poem, he frowns a little trying to reconcile the idea of a city but with gardens and hills.
“That sound like odd city to me, Zherzire. Perhaps I like it there, and will enter city too”, he says in gruff curiosity.
And then Yorcath wanders over and picks up his helmet. Picks up his helmet! He is more offended by that action than any comments about the smell.
An almost imperceptible low growl emits from his throat, but he swallows it and quite deliberately and carefully places the trident and his tools down, reaches across slowly and attempts to gently take the helmet back.
“I leave perfume to females and…how you say…dandies, Yorcath. Male should smell like male”, he says, showing a little of his orcish barbarity perhaps, but he does have a grin on his face. “As for stealing, steal what like, just not from me”, he adds with a shrug.
When talks shifts to Rhys’ stories, he turns to regard the elf. He had actually enjoyed the stories he told, making him feel like a part of something again. He chuckles a little at the grand name he used to be known by. "Rhys is simple. Simple better. Perhaps Storyteller better still".
And then the little gnome fellow speaks about dice. “Dice are good. I play. We play sometime, Gar’din”.
He stands to gather his belongings, satisfied he has tended to his equipment enough for this evening.
Gladly relinquishing the helmet to its owner, Yorcath smiles at Aubrik as he says “Not taking up the offer of a cool head? It’s probably for the best, not sure I can do it without your ears getting frostbite.”
Eyes wide and nodding ay Zherzire’s explanation “Either way that’s mighty impressive, you must have a pretty good memory”
When Rhys pulls the card and explains its meaning the dragonborn shifts low in his seat looking around suspiciously “Do you see her anywhere? Thought I gave her the slip two towns back, how’d she find me? Figured Aubrik would mask my scent!”
Watching as the orc starts collecting his things he says with a hint of hurt in his voice “Leaving us already? I would never steal from you, borrow maybe, but not steal, oh and you would know if I was borrowing cause I would ask first, or at least leave a note”
The little gnomes announcement about gardens and dice turns his head to appraise them “Never saw the point in dice, not enough skill involved, darts on the other hand now theres some skill. We had these huge ones called lawn darts, you’d put a circle on the ground about ten paces away and then throw these giant darts in the air and see who could get closest to the centre. My mom never really liked them thought they were too dangerous or something.”
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Loyalty Begets Honour
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Let us begin.
Its a dark, mild evening. A caravan travelling from Neverwinter to the city ofMussum far east has set up camp for the night in the Orsraun Mountains, a days journey from Xorhun. Several campfires are littered throughout the caravan, including one surrounded by 6 adventurers hired to guard the caravan. Some started out with the caravan in Neverwinter, others were picked up along the way, but this particular group has taken an affinity to each other. Destiny has a way of bringing people together, and you all were brought together.
Among those adventurers sits Beshlog Stonebreaker, a massive Goliath. The man really looks like he SHOULD be a Barbarian, but the others have learned over the course of the journey so far that he isn't. He is a Wizard. His skills are minimal in most respects, but, in the art of Abjuration he has a surprising amount of skill. Nearly as much skill as he has bashing heads with his staff... in head-bashing, he is a TRUE master, skilled with his staff in ways no one would expect of a Wizard.
Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Provide feedback!
Another adventurer who sits around that particular fire is Aubrik Lonetusk, one who would likely be considered large if not for his proximity to Beshlog. He is about 6ft tall and stocky, and pretty much always wears full plate armour. In fact, for the first couple of days after he joined the caravan, he did not even remove his helmet in the presence of others. It was only when he did that it was revealed he was in fact an Orc.
He is middle aged for an Orc, with long braided white hair, red eyes and sharp tusks; of which he has the full set, despite the epithet Lonetusk. And he has blue tribal tattoos over his grey body.
Most of the folk travelling with the caravan give him a wide berth having realised he is an Orc, but those around this campfire don't seem to mind. Not that they have mentioned to his face yet, anyway.
But they kept him around, likely due to the fact that he comes with his own arsenal of weaponry, which he spends most evenings tending.
This particular evening, as he sharpens the prongs of his trident, he is wondering about this city of Xorhun. He sits with his helmet placed beside him, along with his shield. He has an array of other weapons laid out close by as well.
"They say we get to Xorhun in one day. What is this Xorhun like?", he asks the others around the campfire in his gruff voice. He is clearly not worried, but often his kind are not welcomed in cities, hence the interest.
Rhys would be tall for an elf if not for his horrible posture. A failed wizard that found Corellon Larerthian in his time of need, Rhys was hired for his ability to heal yet everyone quickly realized that he can sometimes forget that he has healing magic. Having seen his 5th century Rhys is far more interested in burning things to the ground rather than protecting. This has led Rhys to trust even the newest adventurer over all of the members of the caravan. Though Rhys does not sleep every morning he regales the party with stories of the other side. For most this seems like crazy tails but for some reason the party feels stronger after.(Feat Inspiring Leader: Everyone gets 12 Temp HP)
Rhys shrugs his shoulders at Aubrik’s question.
“If I had to guess, it is the same as the last city we were in. Though I can't say as I have never visited myself but having been around for a long time I can say it was never mentioned in all of the stories I have heard.”
The young Tiefling woman had joined the group relatively recently. She had not looked like much of a traveler, let alone a caravan guard. She wore a light low-cut tunic with form fitting pants and a black hooded cloak that matched. She hadn't seemed to be carrying any weapons, though with the first time they got into a scuffle it was clear she could move quickly and strike deftly though unarmed. Not to mention her bardic magic.
Having gotten to know Zherzire, it is clear she was, and is, a performer. An amazing dancer, she would also sing and play her drum. She spoke with a slight accent, Damaran if anyone recognized it. And in fact, from her comments, she considered their current location "the south", rather than "the east" that those from the Sword Coast might think. She was quite charming with her dark skin and bright blue eyes. Her hair was kept no more than shoulder length and was black, like the pointed horns atop her head.
Sitting at the campfire this night, the Tiefling responds to Aubrik in verse:
"And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery."
She grins, "At least, so I have heard."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
(I forgot to ask. Is everyone here 18+? There will be some swearing and i need to know if i should clean up the language or not of certain NPCs)
A tarnished silver dragonborn comes back into the circle of firelight from relieving himself in the bush as Zherzire finishes her verse; “That’s real pretty Zherie, you make those up yourself or just have a great memory for stuff you read?”
The 2 meter tall character scoops up Aubrik’s helmet and plops down beside the orc as he inspects it. “Hey Aubrik, you wear this thing so much you should get a filter or perfume enchantment put on it to help with the smell.” Having been a late comer to the troupe, Yorcath Lumidorim attached himself to the orc like an old schoolmate due to the shared experiences of not always being welcome in the cities he visits. “Never could find a helmet to cover the horns well enough to pass off as human, well the tail didn’t help either.” He says with a laugh as he taps on the helmet with his fingers. “Could freeze it if you like, at least it wouldn’t be so hot when you wear it again!”
Looking over to Beshlog he leans into Rhys, and says conspiratorially “You really think the big guy needs the health boosts all the time, look at ‘em, if you left him out of the storytime the rest of us would get double the effect!” He winks at the old elf knowing full well the whole thing doesn’t work that way.
Still holding the helmet he smiles as he says “ So, what we here to steal?”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Rhys gives Yorcath a soft smile. Rhys slowly takes out a deck of cards with strange symbols on them and starts shuffling.
“Maybe you are just not believing hard enough to get a stronger effect. Leaving that aside you need not worry about the amount of vitality you receive. I have many ways of protecting you from getting hurt.”
Taking a second to finish shuffling the deck, Rhys draws a card. Showing Yorcath a card with a woman sitting upon a throne.
“Hmm … it seems The Empress follows you. I can not tell you what there will be to steal but it seems that there will be an abundance of things to take.”
Sitting a-top a small mound sat a small gnome- not even reaching three feet in height. A pearl white beard matched with circular framed glasses took over all of his face. He also adorned himself with a pointy green hat, dark green/dirt stained clothes held together with rope, and lastly brown pointy shoes. The gnome, a little nervous to be in the smallest creature present in the group, fidgeted with his spear by drawing in the ground with the butt of it.
"Do ye read cards?" Gar'din said in a small high-pitched voice, asking Rhys. "I happen ta play dice a lot back on tha farm, but I havn't played in a while."
Pulling his pack from his side, he showed his die. "Name is Gar'din! I played with mah die all the time back guardin' gates an' whatev'r. Mah full title granted ta mah-self is Gar'din the Gardenin' Gaurdin' Gnome! Nice ta... meet ye all..." His voice died back down as he looked to who was around him, reminded of his short stature compared to everyone.
Made you look.
Rhys shuffles his cards before putting them away.
“Yes, yes, I do read cards when I have a question I want answered. A quick shuffle like that is unlikely to gain the necessary attention to get an accurate answer but it is nice for finding a direction. It is an honor to meet you Gar’din, at one time my full title was Rhys Everlight of the Ephemeral Pillar but that was more than a century ago. I can't say I have ever played dice but I would be happy to have a game sometime.”
Zherzire grins at Yorcath's question. "It certainly would be more impressive were the words created from my own mind. Alas, more often it is as you said, a good memory for what I've ready and heard." With a chuckle she continues. "Those words were not really meant for Xorhun, but they seemed to fit."
She watches quietly when Rhys shuffles his deck and pulls out a card for the dragonborn. Making no comment, she wonders to herself whether this elf's art has is mere show or might have a touch of actual divination to it.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
Aubrik looks across to Rhys, and shrugs. He had not been with them when they reached the last city, having come across the caravan on the road since. Not in need of the gold, he is really tagging along for some company, not that he would ever admit that to anyone. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself, but travelling alone is so different to being part of a tribe.
When Zherzire recites her poem, he frowns a little trying to reconcile the idea of a city but with gardens and hills.
“That sound like odd city to me, Zherzire. Perhaps I like it there, and will enter city too”, he says in gruff curiosity.
And then Yorcath wanders over and picks up his helmet. Picks up his helmet! He is more offended by that action than any comments about the smell.
An almost imperceptible low growl emits from his throat, but he swallows it and quite deliberately and carefully places the trident and his tools down, reaches across slowly and attempts to gently take the helmet back.
“I leave perfume to females and…how you say…dandies, Yorcath. Male should smell like male”, he says, showing a little of his orcish barbarity perhaps, but he does have a grin on his face. “As for stealing, steal what like, just not from me”, he adds with a shrug.
When talks shifts to Rhys’ stories, he turns to regard the elf. He had actually enjoyed the stories he told, making him feel like a part of something again. He chuckles a little at the grand name he used to be known by. "Rhys is simple. Simple better. Perhaps Storyteller better still".
And then the little gnome fellow speaks about dice. “Dice are good. I play. We play sometime, Gar’din”.
He stands to gather his belongings, satisfied he has tended to his equipment enough for this evening.
Gladly relinquishing the helmet to its owner, Yorcath smiles at Aubrik as he says “Not taking up the offer of a cool head? It’s probably for the best, not sure I can do it without your ears getting frostbite.”
Eyes wide and nodding ay Zherzire’s explanation “Either way that’s mighty impressive, you must have a pretty good memory”
When Rhys pulls the card and explains its meaning the dragonborn shifts low in his seat looking around suspiciously “Do you see her anywhere? Thought I gave her the slip two towns back, how’d she find me? Figured Aubrik would mask my scent!”
Watching as the orc starts collecting his things he says with a hint of hurt in his voice “Leaving us already? I would never steal from you, borrow maybe, but not steal, oh and you would know if I was borrowing cause I would ask first, or at least leave a note”
The little gnomes announcement about gardens and dice turns his head to appraise them “Never saw the point in dice, not enough skill involved, darts on the other hand now theres some skill. We had these huge ones called lawn darts, you’d put a circle on the ground about ten paces away and then throw these giant darts in the air and see who could get closest to the centre. My mom never really liked them thought they were too dangerous or something.”
Loyalty Begets Honour