This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Jarl's HP increase: 10
"If the temple will let me through, that is acceptable," Jarl says. I have no issue with the sewers if that is the route we must take." He pauses to dissect one of the tubers. "I can Commune with Nature once we're underground -- I will probably need to do it several times, since we don't know enough about the resonator to locate it directly. That means I'm going to try to perform it as a ritual where possible, so it will take longer. I don't suppose any of you prepared Locate Creature today?" He looks at the other spellcasters.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Squiggles Hp: 16
"I prepared Locate Object but that is not as helpful. I could try it with the object Rawwwk described but both guarantees and we'd have to be close already"
At the gnome's "apology", Rhogar lets out a little grunt/laugh and replies, "Clearly you've learned your lesson," his voice dripping with sarcasm.
When the spread of various meats appears, his eyes widen. "Not bad. You know, I think I will share this with you after all." Calling over to the half-orcs he says, "Boys! These adventurers made dinner tonight. Help yourselves!" The card players give a gravely cheer, and immediately get up from their seats and squeeze among you standing around the table, inhaling a more than healthy share of meats. None of them seem to touch the root vegetables.
Brix comes back from the latrine to the sight of four half-orcs now devouring much of the feast. He finds his way back to the table, sitting next to one of the half-orcs. "So what's your story, half-orc?"
"Always the one to sacrifice," with a broad smile, Shale raises a mug of ale to Brix as the goblin heads off to the latrine.
"I'm all for skipping running through the waste of the town if at all possible," the cleric replies to Balian. He rips off a leg from a turkey and almost takes off one side of the drumstick in one chomp.
"Me?" says the half-orc being addressed by Brix. "Name's Krusk. I'm a blacksmith. Got a forge and a shop around the corner from here on Kendalor Street. If you ever need any weapons or armor, hit me up; I open right after breakfast."
"A smithy? My allies and I are preparing for a dangerous quest. We have no time for you to make anything from scratch, but this shop could be something of interest. Only problem: I haven't the slightest clue where this Kendalor Street is!" says Brix, bringing his small hand up to his chin as he contemplates how a visit to this half-orc's shop could factor into the party's current plan (he has no idea).
"What of these three?" he asks, pointing at the other three half-orcs. "Are they your apprentices?"
"My apprentices?" he laughs heartily. "No, these are my drinking buddies." Going clockwise around the table, he points to each of the other half-orcs in turn. "That's Dench, he's a stonecutter. Shump is a butcher. And that's Gerald. He owns an antique shop. We've been meeting up here at Rhogar's two or three times a week most every week for the last, oh, fifteen years or so to drink and gamble."
"Drinking...for two or three times a week...for 15 years? And gambling? Now you're speaking my language!" Brix says excitedly. "If I survive this ordeal, you may find yourself with another drinking buddy! Speaking of which, what do you lot know of these...undead creatures?"
"Ach, horrible what's happening." Krusk's voice lowers to a whisper as he leans in to Brix. "Shump's own wife collapsed dead in their home just the other day. Heart gave out. Then as if that wasn't shock enough, just a few seconds later she rose up, this dead look in her eye, and started to claw at him, with incredible strength she'd never had in life. He had to smash his own wife's head in to save his own life, just seconds after she left him. Man's gonna need to do some heavy drinking after that."
The cleric shakes his head at the disturbing story of Krusk, but it does little to curb his appetite for the feast. "That is terrible. He has my prayers," he says with a mouthful of scalloped potatoes. He wipes some of the debris from his chin. "Hopefully we can hunt down whatever is causing all this and end these foul things."
As an hour into the feast comes near, Shale announces to everyone, "Everyone better get your fill in. This all won't last forever."Glancing back the drow trying to conceal his race, he continues, "We should probably finish up and be on our way, my friends. I don't want to wear out our welcome. Thank you again, Rhogar," he salutes with his mug in thanks to the dragonborn. "Besides, when we are successful, we can return to celebrate with drinks... and games."
"I know something that'll soothe the soul better than drink!" Brix says, patting his sheathed rapier. He turns to address Shump. "OI SHUMP! Old Krusk here says you're a butcher! Why do you come with the party and I? We're on our way to battle these zombies. What better way to honor the memory of your wife...AND AVENGE HER!" He raises another cup of ale, points at Shump, takes a drink, and slams it on the table. "What do you say, half-orc? Care to butcher the undead?"
Squiggles whips his head up from his book: "Do we need to decrease the average group intelligence by that much? I feel like an extra 3 half-orcs would severely curtail our ability to find the source of the problems unnoticed. It's hard enough covering for Brix'....eccentricities. I'm an illusionist, not a God!"
As Shump is about to respond, the gnome interrupts, prompting the butcher to turn to him first. "I'd be the last to claim I was a scholar, but you could at least pretend to be a gentleman!" Turning to Brix, he adds, "How do you put up with him?"
"You want me to fight with you?" His eyes brighten for a second, but then as he processes the context his face sinks. "I guess Krusk told you what happened. As much as I'd love to go out in a blaze of glory against whoever did this, I'd just hold you back. I'm not as spry as I used to be, and my skills with a blade are ... well, let's just say I don't have much experience with moving targets. I only barely survived...the one zombie fight I did have. And those are just the footsoldiers, I'm sure. If you're going to find whatever created them... well, I'd just be dead weight."
"Squiggles? The smartest one in the room, that one is, but the things that come from his mouth can be a bit...eccentric," he says to Shump, turning a sharp eye towards the gnome.
"Oi! Squiggles! Apologize to these fine gentlemen, eh? Besides, I only suggested we take the one that lost his wife! Not the other three!" He then turns to Krusk. "But I'm sure the other three would have been great in a pinch!"
He turns back to Shump and listens intently. "Well, sorry about your wife friend," he says, taking another swig of ale. "But to each his own. More for me, I guess!"
Keen to remove the more 'explosive' elements of the party from Rhogar's establishment before things turn sour (again!), Balian makes a show of hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders, and checking his myriad of weapons are where they should be.
"Old friends, we have a date with certain death and/or mindless enslavement ahead of us... shall we?"
"New friends", he says, addressing Rhogar and the regulars, "it has been a pleasure. We will be sure to stop by afterwards either as conquering heroes, or as the thralls of some unfathomable abomination. I want a game of cards either way!"
Rhogar and the others raise their glasses toward you as you head toward the door. "You're on!" says Krusk. "I'm rooting for the not-thralls outcome, but at least if you return mindless you'll be easier to take to the cleaners!"
When you exit Rhogar's the sky is dark, the sun having finished its descent below the horizon. As you start down the alley toward the street that leads back toward the plaza, Jarl notices two figures slowly passing the intersection, dragging their feet as they walk. They do not appear to notice you.
Jarl's HP increase: 10
"If the temple will let me through, that is acceptable," Jarl says. I have no issue with the sewers if that is the route we must take." He pauses to dissect one of the tubers. "I can Commune with Nature once we're underground -- I will probably need to do it several times, since we don't know enough about the resonator to locate it directly. That means I'm going to try to perform it as a ritual where possible, so it will take longer. I don't suppose any of you prepared Locate Creature today?" He looks at the other spellcasters.
Birgit | Shifter | Sorcerer | Dragonlords
Shayone | Hobgoblin | Sorcerer | Netherdeep
Squiggles Hp: 16
"I prepared Locate Object but that is not as helpful. I could try it with the object Rawwwk described but both guarantees and we'd have to be close already"
At the gnome's "apology", Rhogar lets out a little grunt/laugh and replies, "Clearly you've learned your lesson," his voice dripping with sarcasm.
When the spread of various meats appears, his eyes widen. "Not bad. You know, I think I will share this with you after all." Calling over to the half-orcs he says, "Boys! These adventurers made dinner tonight. Help yourselves!" The card players give a gravely cheer, and immediately get up from their seats and squeeze among you standing around the table, inhaling a more than healthy share of meats. None of them seem to touch the root vegetables.
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
BRIX
Brix comes back from the latrine to the sight of four half-orcs now devouring much of the feast. He finds his way back to the table, sitting next to one of the half-orcs. "So what's your story, half-orc?"
"Always the one to sacrifice," with a broad smile, Shale raises a mug of ale to Brix as the goblin heads off to the latrine.
"I'm all for skipping running through the waste of the town if at all possible," the cleric replies to Balian. He rips off a leg from a turkey and almost takes off one side of the drumstick in one chomp.
"Me?" says the half-orc being addressed by Brix. "Name's Krusk. I'm a blacksmith. Got a forge and a shop around the corner from here on Kendalor Street. If you ever need any weapons or armor, hit me up; I open right after breakfast."
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
BRIX
"A smithy? My allies and I are preparing for a dangerous quest. We have no time for you to make anything from scratch, but this shop could be something of interest. Only problem: I haven't the slightest clue where this Kendalor Street is!" says Brix, bringing his small hand up to his chin as he contemplates how a visit to this half-orc's shop could factor into the party's current plan (he has no idea).
"What of these three?" he asks, pointing at the other three half-orcs. "Are they your apprentices?"
"My apprentices?" he laughs heartily. "No, these are my drinking buddies." Going clockwise around the table, he points to each of the other half-orcs in turn. "That's Dench, he's a stonecutter. Shump is a butcher. And that's Gerald. He owns an antique shop. We've been meeting up here at Rhogar's two or three times a week most every week for the last, oh, fifteen years or so to drink and gamble."
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
BRIX
"Drinking...for two or three times a week...for 15 years? And gambling? Now you're speaking my language!" Brix says excitedly. "If I survive this ordeal, you may find yourself with another drinking buddy! Speaking of which, what do you lot know of these...undead creatures?"
"Ach, horrible what's happening." Krusk's voice lowers to a whisper as he leans in to Brix. "Shump's own wife collapsed dead in their home just the other day. Heart gave out. Then as if that wasn't shock enough, just a few seconds later she rose up, this dead look in her eye, and started to claw at him, with incredible strength she'd never had in life. He had to smash his own wife's head in to save his own life, just seconds after she left him. Man's gonna need to do some heavy drinking after that."
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
The cleric shakes his head at the disturbing story of Krusk, but it does little to curb his appetite for the feast. "That is terrible. He has my prayers," he says with a mouthful of scalloped potatoes. He wipes some of the debris from his chin. "Hopefully we can hunt down whatever is causing all this and end these foul things."
As an hour into the feast comes near, Shale announces to everyone, "Everyone better get your fill in. This all won't last forever." Glancing back the drow trying to conceal his race, he continues, "We should probably finish up and be on our way, my friends. I don't want to wear out our welcome. Thank you again, Rhogar," he salutes with his mug in thanks to the dragonborn. "Besides, when we are successful, we can return to celebrate with drinks... and games."
BRIX
"I know something that'll soothe the soul better than drink!" Brix says, patting his sheathed rapier. He turns to address Shump. "OI SHUMP! Old Krusk here says you're a butcher! Why do you come with the party and I? We're on our way to battle these zombies. What better way to honor the memory of your wife...AND AVENGE HER!" He raises another cup of ale, points at Shump, takes a drink, and slams it on the table. "What do you say, half-orc? Care to butcher the undead?"
Squiggles whips his head up from his book: "Do we need to decrease the average group intelligence by that much? I feel like an extra 3 half-orcs would severely curtail our ability to find the source of the problems unnoticed. It's hard enough covering for Brix'....eccentricities. I'm an illusionist, not a God!"
As Shump is about to respond, the gnome interrupts, prompting the butcher to turn to him first. "I'd be the last to claim I was a scholar, but you could at least pretend to be a gentleman!" Turning to Brix, he adds, "How do you put up with him?"
"You want me to fight with you?" His eyes brighten for a second, but then as he processes the context his face sinks. "I guess Krusk told you what happened. As much as I'd love to go out in a blaze of glory against whoever did this, I'd just hold you back. I'm not as spry as I used to be, and my skills with a blade are ... well, let's just say I don't have much experience with moving targets. I only barely survived...the one zombie fight I did have. And those are just the footsoldiers, I'm sure. If you're going to find whatever created them... well, I'd just be dead weight."
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
BRIX
"Squiggles? The smartest one in the room, that one is, but the things that come from his mouth can be a bit...eccentric," he says to Shump, turning a sharp eye towards the gnome.
"Oi! Squiggles! Apologize to these fine gentlemen, eh? Besides, I only suggested we take the one that lost his wife! Not the other three!" He then turns to Krusk. "But I'm sure the other three would have been great in a pinch!"
He turns back to Shump and listens intently. "Well, sorry about your wife friend," he says, taking another swig of ale. "But to each his own. More for me, I guess!"
Keen to remove the more 'explosive' elements of the party from Rhogar's establishment before things turn sour (again!), Balian makes a show of hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders, and checking his myriad of weapons are where they should be.
"Old friends, we have a date with certain death and/or mindless enslavement ahead of us... shall we?"
"New friends", he says, addressing Rhogar and the regulars, "it has been a pleasure. We will be sure to stop by afterwards either as conquering heroes, or as the thralls of some unfathomable abomination. I want a game of cards either way!"
Squiggles shrugs. 'What did I say? Sorry if I offended?"
Take inspiration, Squiggles
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Rhogar and the others raise their glasses toward you as you head toward the door. "You're on!" says Krusk. "I'm rooting for the not-thralls outcome, but at least if you return mindless you'll be easier to take to the cleaners!"
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
When you exit Rhogar's the sky is dark, the sun having finished its descent below the horizon. As you start down the alley toward the street that leads back toward the plaza, Jarl notices two figures slowly passing the intersection, dragging their feet as they walk. They do not appear to notice you.
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)