Through trading all his supplies, Solomon finds someone willing to give up an dusty cloak they have been holding on to. They are willing to give a cape of the mountebank in exchange.
The group is brought back to Cembessa, “I would like to thank you for your efforts. Please present your weapon or spell focus of choice.” As you do so, she empowers them to become a +1 version.
She continues “Earlier when I spoke, I mentioned the powers that are raging in this realm. There are many who fight and many who suffer, all looking to prosper. But there while these things seem impossibly large, the realm is still made up of you, the little ones are important as well. I sense trouble and concern I. Each of you. Solomon, darkness is beginning to surround the town in which your daughter was trusted to live in peace. Your companion Tennanaz here, may be able to fill you in on what terrors await. Fingolin, The power you seek will come to you.... in time. But there are those out there that may be able to, expedite your desires. Much of Fey, has not been corrupted as much as this plane. Brocc, I didn’t have the pleasure to meet you before, but whatever you hold dear.... these ones here are the ones that can bring it to fruition. Go, you have my blessing.
"Seems like Brocc need travel with you more." Brocc says as he narrows his eyes at Cembessa for a long moment. With a shrug though he turns away. Brocc's appearance has changed somewhat. He does not wear his half-plate armor, and, instead of the panther-sized construct at his side, a clockwork owl sits on his shoulder. He has the blast scepter at his waist, along with a spell component pouch. "Where is you traveling that Brocc can accompany?" He asks the others.
Tennezaz looks less then happy when she brings up even the vaguest mention of his past. Hotis mind goes to the list he had been given before the end before he shakes it off as he had no reason to go after people unless he wanted to please the demon that had cursed his family long ago with demon blood.
It’s been one week since you’ve left the relative comfort of Cembessa’s camp. Saying your good byes to the ones you’ve become acquainted with and giving your respects to the nature dragon sub-deity, you braved into the unknown wilderness. Making your way to Neverwinter, the town that Solomon originally came from before meeting the group in Waterdeep. In the time that has passed the party returns to nothing but rubble and ashes. The town completely burned to the ground. The crunch of wood and pebbles underneath each step. Sulfuric powder scattered about, leaving the stench of rotten eggs in the air.
Leaving the decrepit town behind, the party awakens another day on the road. Hiking up the mountains to the remote training facility where he learned his skills with blade and magic. Entrusting his old companions to watch after her while he set out against the chaotic world. Its the morning, as you shake off and warm up from another cold night, you set to make it to the facility by nightfall.
As they travel Brocc will be studying his spellbook as often as not.
"It is important you know that I have found spells that are a bit different than my usual ones." He tells the others as they travel. "Many of my new spells have to do with controlling undead, so do not be surprised when I start calling forth such abominations to aid us."
He would look for skeletons as they travel, and would raise some of those to accompany the group as they travel on towards their destination. He would have his owl, he would call it pounce still, fly ahead and scout as they move onward.
Pounce perception: 23
(dM, let me know how many skeletons I can have by the time we reach the last stretch of the trip.)
Tennezaz will stick to the shadows as they travel, keeping his crossbow at the ready so that he can fight if they come across anything in their travels.
Quiet for most of the journey, and not his usual self, Solomon walks at the head of the group, seeming to push on like a man possessed at times. Even he is shocked by the scenes at what used to be Neverwinter, as he had departed while it mostly still stood, although severely damaged. He wanders through the rubble, trying to build a mental picture of his former home, occasionally murmuring places or names as he connects the rubble and debris with vestiges of his past life. Skink, his weasel familiar, scurry's amongst his master's feet, sensing the loss as it sniffs its surroundings.
Brocc revealing his preference for the be necromantic arts rouses Solomon slightly from his single-mindedness. "See that you keep them under control, especially when we arrive at our destination. My order takes a dim view on people wielding magic carelessly, as do I.”
Fingolin was looking forward to a new adventure, but the sight of the ruins of Neverwinter spoiled his mood. Ekkiwe was present almost all the time, hitching a ride on Fingolin's bag, hunting for rodents, playing with Skink, hiding from Pounce.
Fingolin was not sure how he felt about the new skeletal companions. As their number continued to grow, he decided to voice his concerns.
"I can see how the skeletons would help us in a fight, but is there a way to keep them hidden at other times? I'm concerned that well intended people might avoid us, and us in turn might find it difficult to prove we are, uh, good people."
"Well we could find some cloaks for them to wear..." Brocc suggests. "Eventually we might find a magical item that I can store them inside of, such as a bag of holding or a portable hole, or, when I get stronger, a small dimention I can store them inside." He shrugs. "Otherwise I believe their ability to aid us far exceeds the problems they might cause by being with us."
The group continues their debate about the legitimacy and ethical use of magic as they walk. They trees on the mountain bare and brittle. The snow shows no signs of humanoid footprints, only small tracks of game in the area.
Solomon spots a marker on the path. A pile of stones with a red cloth blowing in the wind. The chapter house is near.
Perception check DC: 20
On the tower of stones small traces of a yellow powder can be seen. A faint hint of sulfur in the air. Very reminiscent of the smell in Neverwinter.
As he brings the haversack for inspection, he pulls out the neatly folded Cloak of Protection. "I was keeping this for you, Solomon. You already have a fancy Cape, but if you'd rather use this, it's yours. You did save me from an imploding tower.", he ends with a grin.
"Do you smell that? Sulfur."He approaches the pile of stones. "There's traces of a yellow powder on these stones. Is this what brought ruin to Neverwinter?"
Tennezaz listens to their talk but simply shrugs it off, even though he agrees that simply having the skeletons around is more then a good enough reason to not care what others think. As the question of sulfur is brought up, he shrugs and looks towards the party. "Do not attempt to blame it on me...."
"No, that sort of bag is not that useful for holding skeletons." Brocc says with a shake of his head at the offered handy haversack. "With how destroyed everything is, I doubt much if people will care that much about the skeletons being around." He comments.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Solomon dons Fingolin's offered cloak with a grunt of thanks. He sniffs the air as the bard comments on the smell around them, recognising it immediately. "We are near. Be alert." He draws his sword and advances towards the chapterhouse at a faster pace.
"You take this, Brocc. I've seen you fighting in close quarters, you might need it to get away one day.". Fingolin hands over the Cape, then follows Solomon.
The group moves through the trails and the scattered woods. Making their way to small plateau that in the short distance holds the Northern chapter house of Order of the Eldritch Guardians. The courtyard lined with leafless trees and cobblestone path lead straight to a log and stone building that stands three stories tall. Only half of the edifice is visible as the rest is built into the mountain. A sand circular pit sits empty on the right side of the building. The white sand streaked and covered in soot and dirt.
Normally a quiet and secluded area stands eerily silent. Solomon and Pounce can see the the front door is left open. Yellow residue dusts the doorknob and frame.
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Through trading all his supplies, Solomon finds someone willing to give up an dusty cloak they have been holding on to. They are willing to give a cape of the mountebank in exchange.
The group is brought back to Cembessa, “I would like to thank you for your efforts. Please present your weapon or spell focus of choice.” As you do so, she empowers them to become a +1 version.
She continues “Earlier when I spoke, I mentioned the powers that are raging in this realm. There are many who fight and many who suffer, all looking to prosper. But there while these things seem impossibly large, the realm is still made up of you, the little ones are important as well. I sense trouble and concern I. Each of you. Solomon, darkness is beginning to surround the town in which your daughter was trusted to live in peace. Your companion Tennanaz here, may be able to fill you in on what terrors await. Fingolin, The power you seek will come to you.... in time. But there are those out there that may be able to, expedite your desires. Much of Fey, has not been corrupted as much as this plane. Brocc, I didn’t have the pleasure to meet you before, but whatever you hold dear.... these ones here are the ones that can bring it to fruition. Go, you have my blessing.
"Seems like Brocc need travel with you more." Brocc says as he narrows his eyes at Cembessa for a long moment. With a shrug though he turns away. Brocc's appearance has changed somewhat. He does not wear his half-plate armor, and, instead of the panther-sized construct at his side, a clockwork owl sits on his shoulder. He has the blast scepter at his waist, along with a spell component pouch. "Where is you traveling that Brocc can accompany?" He asks the others.
Tennezaz looks less then happy when she brings up even the vaguest mention of his past. Hotis mind goes to the list he had been given before the end before he shakes it off as he had no reason to go after people unless he wanted to please the demon that had cursed his family long ago with demon blood.
Presenting his trusted lute, Fingolin says: "Thank you, heryn.", keeping an eye on it as if fearful it might be mishandled.
Cembessa's words make him wish he had more time here, but he hoped he would be able to return in the future.
It’s been one week since you’ve left the relative comfort of Cembessa’s camp. Saying your good byes to the ones you’ve become acquainted with and giving your respects to the nature dragon sub-deity, you braved into the unknown wilderness. Making your way to Neverwinter, the town that Solomon originally came from before meeting the group in Waterdeep. In the time that has passed the party returns to nothing but rubble and ashes. The town completely burned to the ground. The crunch of wood and pebbles underneath each step. Sulfuric powder scattered about, leaving the stench of rotten eggs in the air.
Leaving the decrepit town behind, the party awakens another day on the road. Hiking up the mountains to the remote training facility where he learned his skills with blade and magic. Entrusting his old companions to watch after her while he set out against the chaotic world. Its the morning, as you shake off and warm up from another cold night, you set to make it to the facility by nightfall.
As they travel Brocc will be studying his spellbook as often as not.
"It is important you know that I have found spells that are a bit different than my usual ones." He tells the others as they travel. "Many of my new spells have to do with controlling undead, so do not be surprised when I start calling forth such abominations to aid us."
He would look for skeletons as they travel, and would raise some of those to accompany the group as they travel on towards their destination. He would have his owl, he would call it pounce still, fly ahead and scout as they move onward.
Pounce perception: 23
(dM, let me know how many skeletons I can have by the time we reach the last stretch of the trip.)
Tennezaz will stick to the shadows as they travel, keeping his crossbow at the ready so that he can fight if they come across anything in their travels.
Quiet for most of the journey, and not his usual self, Solomon walks at the head of the group, seeming to push on like a man possessed at times. Even he is shocked by the scenes at what used to be Neverwinter, as he had departed while it mostly still stood, although severely damaged. He wanders through the rubble, trying to build a mental picture of his former home, occasionally murmuring places or names as he connects the rubble and debris with vestiges of his past life. Skink, his weasel familiar, scurry's amongst his master's feet, sensing the loss as it sniffs its surroundings.
Brocc revealing his preference for the be necromantic arts rouses Solomon slightly from his single-mindedness. "See that you keep them under control, especially when we arrive at our destination. My order takes a dim view on people wielding magic carelessly, as do I.”
Fingolin was looking forward to a new adventure, but the sight of the ruins of Neverwinter spoiled his mood. Ekkiwe was present almost all the time, hitching a ride on Fingolin's bag, hunting for rodents, playing with Skink, hiding from Pounce.
Fingolin was not sure how he felt about the new skeletal companions. As their number continued to grow, he decided to voice his concerns.
"I can see how the skeletons would help us in a fight, but is there a way to keep them hidden at other times? I'm concerned that well intended people might avoid us, and us in turn might find it difficult to prove we are, uh, good people."
"Well we could find some cloaks for them to wear..." Brocc suggests. "Eventually we might find a magical item that I can store them inside of, such as a bag of holding or a portable hole, or, when I get stronger, a small dimention I can store them inside." He shrugs. "Otherwise I believe their ability to aid us far exceeds the problems they might cause by being with us."
The group continues their debate about the legitimacy and ethical use of magic as they walk. They trees on the mountain bare and brittle. The snow shows no signs of humanoid footprints, only small tracks of game in the area.
Solomon spots a marker on the path. A pile of stones with a red cloth blowing in the wind. The chapter house is near.
Perception check DC: 20
On the tower of stones small traces of a yellow powder can be seen. A faint hint of sulfur in the air. Very reminiscent of the smell in Neverwinter.
"Interesting! Would this Handy Haversack help at all?"
As he brings the haversack for inspection, he pulls out the neatly folded Cloak of Protection. "I was keeping this for you, Solomon. You already have a fancy Cape, but if you'd rather use this, it's yours. You did save me from an imploding tower.", he ends with a grin.
Perception: 22
"Do you smell that? Sulfur." He approaches the pile of stones. "There's traces of a yellow powder on these stones. Is this what brought ruin to Neverwinter?"
Tennezaz listens to their talk but simply shrugs it off, even though he agrees that simply having the skeletons around is more then a good enough reason to not care what others think. As the question of sulfur is brought up, he shrugs and looks towards the party. "Do not attempt to blame it on me...."
Perception: 12
"No, that sort of bag is not that useful for holding skeletons." Brocc says with a shake of his head at the offered handy haversack. "With how destroyed everything is, I doubt much if people will care that much about the skeletons being around." He comments.
perception: 21
Pounce perception: 19
Solomon dons Fingolin's offered cloak with a grunt of thanks. He sniffs the air as the bard comments on the smell around them, recognising it immediately. "We are near. Be alert." He draws his sword and advances towards the chapterhouse at a faster pace.
Perception: 18
"You take this, Brocc. I've seen you fighting in close quarters, you might need it to get away one day.". Fingolin hands over the Cape, then follows Solomon.
"Very well." Brocc says, taking the cloak. "Brocc thanks you."
The group moves through the trails and the scattered woods. Making their way to small plateau that in the short distance holds the Northern chapter house of Order of the Eldritch Guardians. The courtyard lined with leafless trees and cobblestone path lead straight to a log and stone building that stands three stories tall. Only half of the edifice is visible as the rest is built into the mountain. A sand circular pit sits empty on the right side of the building. The white sand streaked and covered in soot and dirt.
Normally a quiet and secluded area stands eerily silent. Solomon and Pounce can see the the front door is left open. Yellow residue dusts the doorknob and frame.