Kif is prepared with about 8 day's of rations at this point and plenty of adventuring gear. He believes he is prepared for a time on the road. Are the travelers sharing meals with us (understandable less lavish) while we are on the road with them?
Stanimir, might you have any medicinal products to help us should we get into trouble on your lady's quest, or might there be any supplies a bit out of the ordinary that might help us that we are overlooking?
I hale from the dwarven city of Kheldarim near the Spine of the World. Nothing 'drove' me to Daggerford or Waterdeep, indeed it is impossible to wander the Sword Coast without spending time in either. While I spent time in various inns I have found the secret is less ale and more conversation.
Ah yes, the 'less ale' approach. Sounds terribly dull.
Well then, what has brought you to wander the Sword Coast? Search of adventure? Riches? Looooove? Perhaps you dropped a copper and just can't figure out where?
Em, pardon me, uh, Damia...where exactly is it that we are going, and how long, do you imagine, it will take us to get there? I am quite excited to get our bold quest underway, and yet, I don't know where we will begin, or what we will be doing when we get there. The anticipation is just killing me.
For that matter, so is my back. The Sword Coast Highway Administration really needs to get their act together and fix some of these potholes.
Well Barnaby, I've come to wander the Sword Coast looking for some adventure, perhaps enough coin to let me set up a smithy or somesuch back home. Staying back home at this point was dreadfully dull after spending all those decades in the army. So, as an aside, do you suppose Fope is running from an angry badger now, or would he just climb a tree and hide?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
No doubt he has found some young soul who he is lecturing on the pointlessness of carrying a sword...or the grandeur of it...I had a hard time figuring out which side of the 'we love swords vs. swords are the devil' argument he is on. But think not another moment on it. I am sure we will never see that young lad again.
Incidentally, was I able to tell that a spell was used on Fope?
You didn't check at the time. Now that you think back on it, you realize that a spell would explain Fope's curious behavior. Though you also recognize that the spell would have been connected to the words, if it was one at all, and therefore a simple push, and not something more sinister: "Relax and sit by the fire," and that would have been it.
Kif, Damia offers you a little pot of green paste. It's a fist-sized container. You can rub it onto a wound, and it will act as a potion of minor healing. Only works if there's a wound, though.
"Damia, do you perchance have a set of tinkerer's tools? The road so long and having something to fiddle with makes a journey just a wee shorter. Do you have anything that needs fixin?"
No, Puddin. By now, you are all on a first-name basis with each other. We do quite a bit of tinkering, but our tools are precious to us and we carry none to spare. You will likely be able to find tinkerer's tools in town, though, if not in our camp.
You travel under an overcast sky, though it does not rain. The second day on the road also passes uneventfully.
I will wind the clock forward to the next day. Dov will catch up soon enough, if he survives his next round with the monkey. :)
Early in the afternoon of the following day, the wagon train turns east, descending on a dirt path that descends into a narrow valley. Hours of uncomfortable riding pass, without rest. The fog has returned, and you are also quickly into the shadow of mountains rising on both sides. Between the fog and the deep shadow, it feels like evening already, though it is only early afternoon.
Several hours pass without rest, and without even slowing down. The road twists and turns, and you are no longer sure which direction you are traveling in.
Sometime in the early evening, the forest opens up around you and the fog lifts for a moment. The mountains have drawn back and the terrain seems to level out.
The fog spills out of the forest to swallow up the road behind you. Ahead, jutting from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road, are high stone buttresses looming gray in the fog. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework. Dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two headless statues of armed guardians, a hundred feet high at least, flank the gate, their heads now lying among the weeds at their feet. They greet you only with silence.
Welcome to Barovia, says Damia, though she certainly seemed more cheery when you were out on the open road.
Kif, Puddin, and Barnaby, head over to the Roll20 page, and look at the pretty picture. Click on the little newspaper button.
You hear a tremendous grinding noise from the gates, then the noise stops. The Visanti carts move forward, and when you get closer, you realize that the massive gates have moved. Just a crack, but that is wide enough - given their enormous scale - to allow the carts through, with plenty of room on either side.
Make survival checks, as you try to orient yourselves in this unfamiliar place.
Kif is prepared with about 8 day's of rations at this point and plenty of adventuring gear. He believes he is prepared for a time on the road. Are the travelers sharing meals with us (understandable less lavish) while we are on the road with them?
Stanimir, might you have any medicinal products to help us should we get into trouble on your lady's quest, or might there be any supplies a bit out of the ordinary that might help us that we are overlooking?
Ah yes, the 'less ale' approach. Sounds terribly dull.
Well then, what has brought you to wander the Sword Coast? Search of adventure? Riches? Looooove? Perhaps you dropped a copper and just can't figure out where?
Em, pardon me, uh, Damia...where exactly is it that we are going, and how long, do you imagine, it will take us to get there? I am quite excited to get our bold quest underway, and yet, I don't know where we will begin, or what we will be doing when we get there. The anticipation is just killing me.
For that matter, so is my back. The Sword Coast Highway Administration really needs to get their act together and fix some of these potholes.
Well Barnaby, I've come to wander the Sword Coast looking for some adventure, perhaps enough coin to let me set up a smithy or somesuch back home. Staying back home at this point was dreadfully dull after spending all those decades in the army. So, as an aside, do you suppose Fope is running from an angry badger now, or would he just climb a tree and hide?
No doubt he has found some young soul who he is lecturing on the pointlessness of carrying a sword...or the grandeur of it...I had a hard time figuring out which side of the 'we love swords vs. swords are the devil' argument he is on. But think not another moment on it. I am sure we will never see that young lad again.
Incidentally, was I able to tell that a spell was used on Fope?
Arcana? 13
You didn't check at the time. Now that you think back on it, you realize that a spell would explain Fope's curious behavior. Though you also recognize that the spell would have been connected to the words, if it was one at all, and therefore a simple push, and not something more sinister: "Relax and sit by the fire," and that would have been it.
Kif, Damia offers you a little pot of green paste. It's a fist-sized container. You can rub it onto a wound, and it will act as a potion of minor healing. Only works if there's a wound, though.
Quoth Damia to Barnaby:
Two more days, Master Barnaby. We are getting closer, as long as we are moving.
Kif, there's no need to track rations (or ammo) unless I specifically say so.
Thank you Damia, I will hold this close and hopefully we won't have need of it. I appreciate the help
He stows it away in his pack, but makes sure Puddin' and Barnaby see it
For any of us if we need it
Oh man my money was on the monkey
It's still out there somewhere!
"Damia, do you perchance have a set of tinkerer's tools? The road so long and having something to fiddle with makes a journey just a wee shorter. Do you have anything that needs fixin?"
No, Puddin. By now, you are all on a first-name basis with each other. We do quite a bit of tinkering, but our tools are precious to us and we carry none to spare. You will likely be able to find tinkerer's tools in town, though, if not in our camp.
You travel under an overcast sky, though it does not rain. The second day on the road also passes uneventfully.
I will wind the clock forward to the next day. Dov will catch up soon enough, if he survives his next round with the monkey. :)
Early in the afternoon of the following day, the wagon train turns east, descending on a dirt path that descends into a narrow valley. Hours of uncomfortable riding pass, without rest. The fog has returned, and you are also quickly into the shadow of mountains rising on both sides. Between the fog and the deep shadow, it feels like evening already, though it is only early afternoon.
Several hours pass without rest, and without even slowing down. The road twists and turns, and you are no longer sure which direction you are traveling in.
Sometime in the early evening, the forest opens up around you and the fog lifts for a moment. The mountains have drawn back and the terrain seems to level out.
The fog spills out of the forest to swallow up the road behind you. Ahead, jutting from the impenetrable woods on both sides of the road, are high stone buttresses looming gray in the fog. Huge iron gates hang on the stonework. Dew clings with cold tenacity to the rusted bars. Two headless statues of armed guardians, a hundred feet high at least, flank the gate, their heads now lying among the weeds at their feet. They greet you only with silence.
Welcome to Barovia, says Damia, though she certainly seemed more cheery when you were out on the open road.
Kif, Puddin, and Barnaby, head over to the Roll20 page, and look at the pretty picture. Click on the little newspaper button.
You hear a tremendous grinding noise from the gates, then the noise stops. The Visanti carts move forward, and when you get closer, you realize that the massive gates have moved. Just a crack, but that is wide enough - given their enormous scale - to allow the carts through, with plenty of room on either side.
Make survival checks, as you try to orient yourselves in this unfamiliar place.
19 survival
Survival: 18
Edit: :o
Ben, you mentioned something earlier about Føpé seeing strange stones by the water. First, Føpé will investigate (4) these stones.