Alwin just looks at the feet and hold his shield up the strange confidence that seems to come when he is wielding his weapon showing"Please come out from under the wagon sir, we just want to talk about some events."
[OOC]
Alwin will hold his attack action should the figure show any hostile movements - his hand ready to cast the firebolt cantrip.
Alwin just looks at the feet and hold his shield up the strange confidence that seems to come when he is wielding his weapon showing"Please come out from under the wagon sir, we just want to talk about some events."
[OOC]
Alwin will hold his attack action should the figure show any hostile movements - his hand ready to cast the firebolt cantrip.
'No one emerges into the open, either from behind the wagon or anywhere else, though the same old voice calls out,'
"Oh, of course. I'll just step right out where you can skewer me with that sword of yours. Just a... moment!"
'Suddenly the light being emitted from the first of the gnome's two wands winks out, casting the Northside of the farmhouse into darkness.'
[OOC] Alwin and Altani with a view of the house's Northside can make perception checks (Altani with disadvantage) and then read the relevant spoilers below according to their scores:
DC 10:
'You hear the pony whinny in response to the activity around it just as the light from the wand winks out, casting the Northside of the house into darkness. A moment later the darkness above you is pierced somewhat by brightening lamp light visible through the open second story as an angry male voice calls out,' "What in damnation is all this noise about? What are you DOING out there you, uncle Bimfudd? Can't you use a blasted door like a damn normal person... Bah!"
DC 15:
'Despite the sudden change in light and the distractions around you, you notice the end of the purple gem tipped black wand turn ever so slightly in Alwin's direction, seeming to track his location. Suddenly, a loud roar sounds out somewhere not too distant to the North, the noise echoing back to the farmstead and the river.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Alwin just blinks as the man states his point 'maybe coming at him with the sword was a little to much'.
Alwin just sheaths his sword "I have no reason to skew you with my sword, see I'll put it away as a sign of trust - now come out so we can talk please. We are trying to get down to the bottom of who is murdering people and right now you don't look so innocent. Especially after that deceptive action back there with the magic. We really do just want to talk."
"My apologies sir. We really did come to simply check on your well being. I hope Alwin has to frightened you, you have nothing to fear from us. We are working with Thurk. We will let you be"
"My apologies sir. We really did come to simply check on your well being. I hope Alwin has to frightened you, you have nothing to fear from us. We are working with Thurk. We will let you be"
'The tips of the two wands move purposefully back and forth between the centaur and half-elf, just as the head of what you at first think to be a serpent but soon realise is an animated length of rope emerges from behind the wagon. However, just as the bearded and shaved head of another gnome pokes out from the lamp lit window above with a crossbow, heavy in hand and an enquiring look upon his face, the apparently placated voice of the older gnome calls out,'
"If that's true, and since neither of you others has done anything aggressive and you both seem honest enough I tend to believe it despite this one rushing about in the middle of the night with sword in hand, then prove it and LEAVE! Otherwise I'll stop playing nice and have Narr up there bolt you and leave you for that apptoaching moorcat. I'd be quick about getting back to town as well - he sounds hungry! Ere, the cat that is, not Narr."
'The owner of the voice doesn't fully emerge from behind the wagon, though you catch a glimpse of a monocle covered eye peering out just as the light from the first wand returns, allowing Altani to see better. The clearly confused gnome Narr for his part calls down, though his tired voice trails off seeing that the strange situation below seems to be resolving peacefully,'
"Well... I am a little peckish come to mention it. But, err, what the... who are... Ahh, yeah, you lot should probably go... whoever you are."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
'Glancing around at the mention of the famed and feared lowlands beast, Kestrell sees no sign of the creature itself, which is not surprising considering their reputation for stealth and rumoured magical ability to mask their presence. However, the astute sorcerer does now notice that some of the trunks on nearby trees and fence posts bear substantial scratching, as though from large claws. He also hears another *ROAR*, this time from somewhere uncomfortably nearby.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani glances back at Kestrell and then looks back to Alwin and Narr.
"Let's go Alwin. Before you get someone hurt. Once again my humble apologies for the disturbance."
Altani reaches out and grabs Alwin by the shoulder.
"Back to the in we go... you sure you didn't let that barmaid give you one to many"
'The two wands, the serpent-like length of rope, the crossbow wielding gnome overhead and the old monocle wearing chap peering out from behind the wagon all seem to follow Altani and Alwin's movements as you move back around to the front of the house, where Kestrell stands looking a little worriedly out into the night. At another *ROAR* that seems to reverberate from directly on the otherside of the house, you all hightail it back out the fence-gate and over the stone bridge towards town. While neither of the half-elves is particularly familiar with the notorious predator of this region, Altani is aware that some glory hungry centaur warriors choose the feared moorcat for their hunter's rites, leaving the Leavenwild plains to hunt the ferocious beasts through the ajoining bogs and marshes. Altani is also aware that a large number of those who do never return from their traditional rite of passage ordeals. Fortunately for the three, such a beast does not make itself known during their return trip to Ambersilt. Now into the early hours of the proceeding morning, the three travellers hurry back through the noisy darkness of the marshlands, interrupted only in their haste by the need to beg entry from a pair of grumbling Silverstar watchmen.
Returning to the Marsh Oak, Kestrell, Altani and Alwin notice that the noise and activity from earlier is long absent, the hearth embers all but extinguished, the common room entirely empty. Alwin and Kestrell retire to their rooms in peace, finding the lodgings clean, comfortable and warm, with many niceties that one might not expect in a rustic backwater town like Ambersilt. The basins of scented rose-water, fluffy towels and acorn coloured and shaped bars of soap that you find in your rooms are particularly pleasant surprises.
Heading around to the stable out back, Altani finds her lodgings without too much difficulty, simply following the snoring of the four centaur warriors who are lying amidst the empty mugs and pitchers of their earlier rowdy endeavours. As promised, the stable's straw is plentiful and dry, and the simple, functional building well enough constructed that little of the draft or early morning cold gets in. As she settles in to sleep, the tired centaur notices the large form of Mazin laid out upon the straw in the next stall amidst what looks to be a number of wood carving implements and small piles of shavings.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani keeps an eye out as the party cross the marshlands towards Ambersilt and the Marsh Oak. As she reaches the Marsh Oak the centaur smiles at her drunken, snoring kinsmen, thinking back to her brother and how he once talked about hunting moorcat's before there father clipped him around the ears for being so foolish.
Settling into her stall, the centaur unstraps her weapons and equipment and preparers to rest. Taking out a small holy amulet of a unicorn from around her neck, Altani holds it up to her face and kisses it. Reaching into her backpack, she takes out a handful of grains and scatters them in front of her. As she does so she whispers a prayer, "Mielikki, Lady of the Forest, wife of the vast woods, walk through all the wilderness, search the far backwoods, lead the Unicorn, make it run, bless it's stride, to the path of the seeking woman, to the steps of this hunting hero, lead the Unicorn, lay it on the path of fortune"
With that the centaur doses off for what is left of the night.
21 Eleint, -509 Dale Reckoning (DR), The South-Western North Vast, Heartstar Kingdom, Frontier Town of Ambersilt
'You all awake to a cool blustery Autumn day, plentiful grey clouds and a vigorous Northwind bringing the promise of rain and the chance of a pre-Winter storm. The hustle and bustle of a busy rural inn also greets you, the sounds of gear being packed, doors banging, feet stomping up and down the stair wells, the nickering of horses outside and the buzz of formative conversations arising from the common room. These comforting sounds overlap with the scents of a hot cooked breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast to draw most of the inn's current residents from their beds, albeit some more enthusiastically than others.
Entering the common room, you notice one or two empty tables near the bar, also conveniently near the newly fired hearth where Myren is busy frying eggs and turning meat and bread, which the visiting merchants, guards and other guests are heartily devouring. The ever industrious Brenna stands behind the bar, pouring glasses of water, fruit juice and even brewing a herbal tea for those who want it, though of course a few eschew these lighter beverages in favour of something with a little more kick. While there is yet no sign of the smith Thurk, a lizardfolk woman is sitting at the bar nearby with a plate of bacon and a mug of tea. The woman is well-muscled but leaner and slightly taller than the smith, with a long handled battleaxe at her left hip, a dented shield across her back and armoured in a breastplate sporting the Silverstar watch logo. Apart from the Lizardwoman and the other mostly non-descript guests, the only other person of note in the room appears to be the short, swarthy human with the scraggly black beard and eye patch that many of you saw the night before. The man is sitting at a table with a heavily muscled human warrior in much-patched leather armour, both consuming breakfast and breakfast ale with some gusto.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Alwin just shrugged off Altani’s touch as she reach out to grab his should “Always beware of mages who use illusions – you never know what they are capable of.” He says looking at her, his voice soft as if repeating a long engrained lesson, and then walking away. ‘Idiot – moron – good for nothing. They’d be better off with you dead’ rolling through his mind as he thought over his mistakes for the night. When they returned to the Marsh Oak he immediately just went to his room, still clearly beating himself up about something.
Alwin woke early in the morning and made his way outside to find a good spot to train his swordsmanship"Pathetic..."he would occasionally say out loud as he practiced"You're useless."
Mazin wakes up feeling well rested. He leaves the stables and heads to the common room. He notices Alwin training. (perception4 to see if Mazin hears what he's saying.) Edit: Mazin frowns at the self deprecating words coming from the half-elf and continues on.
In the common room, and heads over to the bar. "Good morning Brenna. What do you have there, some tea. I would love some if you don't mind. Should I speak with Myren about food?"
Once he gets his drink and food, he will settle down at one of the empty tables to enjoy his meal.
Alwin woke early in the morning and made his way outside to find a good spot to train his swordsmanship"Pathetic..."he would occasionally say out loud as he practiced"You're useless."
'His need for lengthy periods of sleep somewhat lessened by his half-elven heritage, Alwin wakes with the dawn fully rested, though still somewhat despondent. Seeing only the busy and occupied Myren in the common room as he descends the stair, the fighter exists the common room quickly and quietly to find a place outside with sufficient space to allow for his regular morning drills. Fortunately, there is enough space on the grass out front of the inn, since most of the town square itself is taken up by the large circus tent and the troupe's various carts, wagons and house trailers. Breathing deeply to centre himself in the cool breeze and still burgeoning dawn's light, Alwin begins to execute his sword forms and the other martial exercises ingrained in him since childhood by his now distant mentor.
[OOC] Alwin can make a perception check and read the below spoilers if he achieves a high enough score:
DC 10:
'Despite the focus he exerts to train, a number of minor distractions still intrude upon the young half-elfs consciousness - the neighing of horses from the stable behind the inn, the laughter of barefoot children all ready out playing on the other side of the large colourful circus tent, a growing trickle of hardy human, halfling and lizardfolk farmers and miners walking towards the town's East and North gates, the growing banks of clouds in the sky, blown North by cool winds wafting out of the warmer Southern swamps.'
DC 15:
'Almost near the end of his daily training regime, Alwin happens to glance down the street to the South just as a smartly dressed gnomish man twirling a silver tipped walking stick and wearing black pants and coat emerges from a well-maintained house beside an older centaur man with a long grey/gold beard and braids. Both stop to speak briefly outside the home, before continuing their discussion as they begin to walk up the street towards the Marsh Oak.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Mazin wakes up feeling well rested. He leaves the stables and heads to the common room. He notices Alwin training. (perception23 to see if Mazin hears what he's saying.) Edit: Mazin frowns at the self deprecating words coming from the half-elf and continues on.
In the common room, and heads over to the bar. "Good morning Brenna. What do you have there, some tea. I would love some if you don't mind. Should I speak with Myren about food?"
Once he gets his drink and food, he will settle down at one of the empty tables to enjoy his meal.
'Brenna smiles at Mazin's entry to the common room and responds pleasantly to his quesiton as she pour him a cup of tart lemon tea from the still steaming kettle,'
"Morning to you as well, Mazin. Here you go - my own lemon blend it is. I find that it helps keep away the sniffles as the weather turns cooler once Summer has fled. Might have to bake some biscuits this afternoon to have with it. Hmm, yes, that's what I'll do. What's that? Breakfast? I'll get that for you - just take a seat over there and I'll be right with you.'
'As Brenna does exactly as she promised, bringing the goliath a plate heaped with bacon, eggs and toast, the woman's daughter, Barella, emerges from the cellar, a patently displeased look upon her face and a large sack of something bulky over her shoulder. Complaining loudly across the common room to her father in much the way that teenage children have done since time immemorial when asked to do a task that they find unpleasant, Mazin hears Myren call out in reply,'
"Now, now, Rella. They're only bugs and I didn't ask you to cart the really big ones up here. Besides, if you want to go to that circus performance tonight with your friends as much as you say you do, then you'd best not let your mother hear you complaining."
[OOC] Mazin may make a perception check and read the spoilers below should you achieve the required score:
DC 10:
'As the clearly unimpressed Barella walks past Mazin's table on her way to the door with her burden slung over her right shoulder, the goliath hears the disgruntled young woman muttering to herself,' "Go collect the eggs, Rella. Wipe down the tables will you, Rella. Don't forget to take out the million dead gross bugs, Rella. Jaylen and Sander NEVER have to do this sort of stuff, or beg their parents just to go see a performance. It's just NOT fair! I can't WAIT to get out of this town..."
DC 15:
'Having devoured his breakfast and considering asking for seconds, Mazin glances over towards the hearth to see if there's more food on the serving table when the goliath notices the short, bearded man with the eye patch staring directly in his direction. The man is still absent mindedly engaged in a conversation with his tablemate, but he's also making no effort to hide his interest in the large warrior. Seeing Mazin notice his attention, the swarthy fellow merely grins and raises his tankard of ale, as though toasting the goliath's good health.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Cinder will come downstairs after polishing her horn. She sits down next to Mazin saying, “Mind some company for breakfast? I don’t like eating alone.”
If he allows it, she’ll eat with him in a comfortable silence as they finish their food.
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'Kestrell remains standing near the lamppost, puzzled, nay! Dazed and Confused.'
Initiative: 12
"Alwin I don't know what has come over you. Your acting worse than a youny buck in the spring! Apologies now. We can come back tomorrow with Thurk"
Initiative 11
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Alwin just looks at the feet and hold his shield up the strange confidence that seems to come when he is wielding his weapon showing"Please come out from under the wagon sir, we just want to talk about some events."
[OOC]
Alwin will hold his attack action should the figure show any hostile movements - his hand ready to cast the firebolt cantrip.
persuasion check to make the figure come out: 5
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
'No one emerges into the open, either from behind the wagon or anywhere else, though the same old voice calls out,'
"Oh, of course. I'll just step right out where you can skewer me with that sword of yours. Just a... moment!"
'Suddenly the light being emitted from the first of the gnome's two wands winks out, casting the Northside of the farmhouse into darkness.'
[OOC] Alwin and Altani with a view of the house's Northside can make perception checks (Altani with disadvantage) and then read the relevant spoilers below according to their scores:
DC 10:
'You hear the pony whinny in response to the activity around it just as the light from the wand winks out, casting the Northside of the house into darkness. A moment later the darkness above you is pierced somewhat by brightening lamp light visible through the open second story as an angry male voice calls out,' "What in damnation is all this noise about? What are you DOING out there you, uncle Bimfudd? Can't you use a blasted door like a damn normal person... Bah!"
DC 15:
'Despite the sudden change in light and the distractions around you, you notice the end of the purple gem tipped black wand turn ever so slightly in Alwin's direction, seeming to track his location. Suddenly, a loud roar sounds out somewhere not too distant to the North, the noise echoing back to the farmstead and the river.'
It's Kestrell's turn now and then Altani's
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Alwin just blinks as the man states his point 'maybe coming at him with the sword was a little to much'.
Alwin just sheaths his sword "I have no reason to skew you with my sword, see I'll put it away as a sign of trust - now come out so we can talk please. We are trying to get down to the bottom of who is murdering people and right now you don't look so innocent. Especially after that deceptive action back there with the magic. We really do just want to talk."
[OOC] perception check: 5
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
'Kestrell leans against the lamp-post in the front yard and uses his Mage Hand to scratch his head quizzically.'
Altani stops a little ways from Alwin.
"My apologies sir. We really did come to simply check on your well being. I hope Alwin has to frightened you, you have nothing to fear from us. We are working with Thurk. We will let you be"
Persuasion 20
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
'The tips of the two wands move purposefully back and forth between the centaur and half-elf, just as the head of what you at first think to be a serpent but soon realise is an animated length of rope emerges from behind the wagon. However, just as the bearded and shaved head of another gnome pokes out from the lamp lit window above with a crossbow, heavy in hand and an enquiring look upon his face, the apparently placated voice of the older gnome calls out,'
"If that's true, and since neither of you others has done anything aggressive and you both seem honest enough I tend to believe it despite this one rushing about in the middle of the night with sword in hand, then prove it and LEAVE! Otherwise I'll stop playing nice and have Narr up there bolt you and leave you for that apptoaching moorcat. I'd be quick about getting back to town as well - he sounds hungry! Ere, the cat that is, not Narr."
'The owner of the voice doesn't fully emerge from behind the wagon, though you catch a glimpse of a monocle covered eye peering out just as the light from the first wand returns, allowing Altani to see better. The clearly confused gnome Narr for his part calls down, though his tired voice trails off seeing that the strange situation below seems to be resolving peacefully,'
"Well... I am a little peckish come to mention it. But, err, what the... who are... Ahh, yeah, you lot should probably go... whoever you are."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Hearing something about a moorcat, Kestrell perks up and looks around for signs of the cat while he waits for Altani and Alwin.'
Survival: 21
'Glancing around at the mention of the famed and feared lowlands beast, Kestrell sees no sign of the creature itself, which is not surprising considering their reputation for stealth and rumoured magical ability to mask their presence. However, the astute sorcerer does now notice that some of the trunks on nearby trees and fence posts bear substantial scratching, as though from large claws. He also hears another *ROAR*, this time from somewhere uncomfortably nearby.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"Altani, Alwin! I think I just heard a moorcat. Come quick! Do you think we can take him?"
Altani glances back at Kestrell and then looks back to Alwin and Narr.
"Let's go Alwin. Before you get someone hurt. Once again my humble apologies for the disturbance."
Altani reaches out and grabs Alwin by the shoulder.
"Back to the inn we go... you sure you didn't let that barmaid give you one to many"
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
'The two wands, the serpent-like length of rope, the crossbow wielding gnome overhead and the old monocle wearing chap peering out from behind the wagon all seem to follow Altani and Alwin's movements as you move back around to the front of the house, where Kestrell stands looking a little worriedly out into the night. At another *ROAR* that seems to reverberate from directly on the otherside of the house, you all hightail it back out the fence-gate and over the stone bridge towards town. While neither of the half-elves is particularly familiar with the notorious predator of this region, Altani is aware that some glory hungry centaur warriors choose the feared moorcat for their hunter's rites, leaving the Leavenwild plains to hunt the ferocious beasts through the ajoining bogs and marshes. Altani is also aware that a large number of those who do never return from their traditional rite of passage ordeals. Fortunately for the three, such a beast does not make itself known during their return trip to Ambersilt. Now into the early hours of the proceeding morning, the three travellers hurry back through the noisy darkness of the marshlands, interrupted only in their haste by the need to beg entry from a pair of grumbling Silverstar watchmen.
Returning to the Marsh Oak, Kestrell, Altani and Alwin notice that the noise and activity from earlier is long absent, the hearth embers all but extinguished, the common room entirely empty. Alwin and Kestrell retire to their rooms in peace, finding the lodgings clean, comfortable and warm, with many niceties that one might not expect in a rustic backwater town like Ambersilt. The basins of scented rose-water, fluffy towels and acorn coloured and shaped bars of soap that you find in your rooms are particularly pleasant surprises.
Heading around to the stable out back, Altani finds her lodgings without too much difficulty, simply following the snoring of the four centaur warriors who are lying amidst the empty mugs and pitchers of their earlier rowdy endeavours. As promised, the stable's straw is plentiful and dry, and the simple, functional building well enough constructed that little of the draft or early morning cold gets in. As she settles in to sleep, the tired centaur notices the large form of Mazin laid out upon the straw in the next stall amidst what looks to be a number of wood carving implements and small piles of shavings.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Altani keeps an eye out as the party cross the marshlands towards Ambersilt and the Marsh Oak. As she reaches the Marsh Oak the centaur smiles at her drunken, snoring kinsmen, thinking back to her brother and how he once talked about hunting moorcat's before there father clipped him around the ears for being so foolish.
Settling into her stall, the centaur unstraps her weapons and equipment and preparers to rest. Taking out a small holy amulet of a unicorn from around her neck, Altani holds it up to her face and kisses it. Reaching into her backpack, she takes out a handful of grains and scatters them in front of her. As she does so she whispers a prayer, "Mielikki, Lady of the Forest, wife of the vast woods, walk through all the wilderness, search the far backwoods, lead the Unicorn, make it run, bless it's stride, to the path of the seeking woman, to the steps of this hunting hero, lead the Unicorn, lay it on the path of fortune"
With that the centaur doses off for what is left of the night.
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
21 Eleint, -509 Dale Reckoning (DR), The South-Western North Vast, Heartstar Kingdom, Frontier Town of Ambersilt
'You all awake to a cool blustery Autumn day, plentiful grey clouds and a vigorous Northwind bringing the promise of rain and the chance of a pre-Winter storm. The hustle and bustle of a busy rural inn also greets you, the sounds of gear being packed, doors banging, feet stomping up and down the stair wells, the nickering of horses outside and the buzz of formative conversations arising from the common room. These comforting sounds overlap with the scents of a hot cooked breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast to draw most of the inn's current residents from their beds, albeit some more enthusiastically than others.
Entering the common room, you notice one or two empty tables near the bar, also conveniently near the newly fired hearth where Myren is busy frying eggs and turning meat and bread, which the visiting merchants, guards and other guests are heartily devouring. The ever industrious Brenna stands behind the bar, pouring glasses of water, fruit juice and even brewing a herbal tea for those who want it, though of course a few eschew these lighter beverages in favour of something with a little more kick. While there is yet no sign of the smith Thurk, a lizardfolk woman is sitting at the bar nearby with a plate of bacon and a mug of tea. The woman is well-muscled but leaner and slightly taller than the smith, with a long handled battleaxe at her left hip, a dented shield across her back and armoured in a breastplate sporting the Silverstar watch logo. Apart from the Lizardwoman and the other mostly non-descript guests, the only other person of note in the room appears to be the short, swarthy human with the scraggly black beard and eye patch that many of you saw the night before. The man is sitting at a table with a heavily muscled human warrior in much-patched leather armour, both consuming breakfast and breakfast ale with some gusto.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Alwin just shrugged off Altani’s touch as she reach out to grab his should “Always beware of mages who use illusions – you never know what they are capable of.” He says looking at her, his voice soft as if repeating a long engrained lesson, and then walking away. ‘Idiot – moron – good for nothing. They’d be better off with you dead’ rolling through his mind as he thought over his mistakes for the night. When they returned to the Marsh Oak he immediately just went to his room, still clearly beating himself up about something.
Alwin woke early in the morning and made his way outside to find a good spot to train his swordsmanship "Pathetic..." he would occasionally say out loud as he practiced "You're useless."
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
Mazin wakes up feeling well rested. He leaves the stables and heads to the common room. He notices Alwin training. (perception 4 to see if Mazin hears what he's saying.) Edit: Mazin frowns at the self deprecating words coming from the half-elf and continues on.
In the common room, and heads over to the bar. "Good morning Brenna. What do you have there, some tea. I would love some if you don't mind. Should I speak with Myren about food?"
Once he gets his drink and food, he will settle down at one of the empty tables to enjoy his meal.
'His need for lengthy periods of sleep somewhat lessened by his half-elven heritage, Alwin wakes with the dawn fully rested, though still somewhat despondent. Seeing only the busy and occupied Myren in the common room as he descends the stair, the fighter exists the common room quickly and quietly to find a place outside with sufficient space to allow for his regular morning drills. Fortunately, there is enough space on the grass out front of the inn, since most of the town square itself is taken up by the large circus tent and the troupe's various carts, wagons and house trailers. Breathing deeply to centre himself in the cool breeze and still burgeoning dawn's light, Alwin begins to execute his sword forms and the other martial exercises ingrained in him since childhood by his now distant mentor.
[OOC] Alwin can make a perception check and read the below spoilers if he achieves a high enough score:
DC 10:
'Despite the focus he exerts to train, a number of minor distractions still intrude upon the young half-elfs consciousness - the neighing of horses from the stable behind the inn, the laughter of barefoot children all ready out playing on the other side of the large colourful circus tent, a growing trickle of hardy human, halfling and lizardfolk farmers and miners walking towards the town's East and North gates, the growing banks of clouds in the sky, blown North by cool winds wafting out of the warmer Southern swamps.'
DC 15:
'Almost near the end of his daily training regime, Alwin happens to glance down the street to the South just as a smartly dressed gnomish man twirling a silver tipped walking stick and wearing black pants and coat emerges from a well-maintained house beside an older centaur man with a long grey/gold beard and braids. Both stop to speak briefly outside the home, before continuing their discussion as they begin to walk up the street towards the Marsh Oak.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
'Brenna smiles at Mazin's entry to the common room and responds pleasantly to his quesiton as she pour him a cup of tart lemon tea from the still steaming kettle,'
"Morning to you as well, Mazin. Here you go - my own lemon blend it is. I find that it helps keep away the sniffles as the weather turns cooler once Summer has fled. Might have to bake some biscuits this afternoon to have with it. Hmm, yes, that's what I'll do. What's that? Breakfast? I'll get that for you - just take a seat over there and I'll be right with you.'
'As Brenna does exactly as she promised, bringing the goliath a plate heaped with bacon, eggs and toast, the woman's daughter, Barella, emerges from the cellar, a patently displeased look upon her face and a large sack of something bulky over her shoulder. Complaining loudly across the common room to her father in much the way that teenage children have done since time immemorial when asked to do a task that they find unpleasant, Mazin hears Myren call out in reply,'
"Now, now, Rella. They're only bugs and I didn't ask you to cart the really big ones up here. Besides, if you want to go to that circus performance tonight with your friends as much as you say you do, then you'd best not let your mother hear you complaining."
[OOC] Mazin may make a perception check and read the spoilers below should you achieve the required score:
DC 10:
'As the clearly unimpressed Barella walks past Mazin's table on her way to the door with her burden slung over her right shoulder, the goliath hears the disgruntled young woman muttering to herself,' "Go collect the eggs, Rella. Wipe down the tables will you, Rella. Don't forget to take out the million dead gross bugs, Rella. Jaylen and Sander NEVER have to do this sort of stuff, or beg their parents just to go see a performance. It's just NOT fair! I can't WAIT to get out of this town..."
DC 15:
'Having devoured his breakfast and considering asking for seconds, Mazin glances over towards the hearth to see if there's more food on the serving table when the goliath notices the short, bearded man with the eye patch staring directly in his direction. The man is still absent mindedly engaged in a conversation with his tablemate, but he's also making no effort to hide his interest in the large warrior. Seeing Mazin notice his attention, the swarthy fellow merely grins and raises his tankard of ale, as though toasting the goliath's good health.'
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Cinder will come downstairs after polishing her horn. She sits down next to Mazin saying, “Mind some company for breakfast? I don’t like eating alone.”
If he allows it, she’ll eat with him in a comfortable silence as they finish their food.