This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
“err… uhh..so I think I’ve got it…you prefer to still be called Mrs. And not Ms. Then you like Adept instead of Pally…aaaand you want Lapsu at the end of it all? So Mrs. Adept Lapsu? Seems an awfully long name. what if we are in combat and I only have time for 1 word?” Feldinor looks as innocent as he can during the counter jest. Afterall, I cannot be seen as weak in the eyes of my group but also really don’t mean to offend Mrs. Adept Lapsu. She seems to be decent enough for big folk. “Well whatever name you would like me to call you, I’ll use. Meant no formal offense by the nickname. I’m still getting used to you big folk’s customs and tolerances.”
With that hopeful diffusion of party banter, Feldinor excuses himself to lavatory out the back. As is custom Feldinor knows that there are eyes and ears everywhere and that random beggars are not always what they seem. Feldinor takes advantage of this hidden communications network to get a message to his faithful contact. The message he scribbles on the note he hands off is simple: “request info on location of Blade and Stars sign / innkeeper.” Through his normal routine, Feldinor identifies the runners that make up part of this communication network and makes the handoff, hoping the average big folk are completely unaware Sleight of Hand14. A small deposit into the dirty beggar’s cup, and he heads back inside.
“So we’ve been assigned by the Flaming Fist to the Basilisk Gate, huh? I guess it could be worse. And not dying is a decent enough wage given the alternative. Plus, I like your suggestion we go right to the front and get ourselves known. That will help deter any unfortunate accidents that might be in our individual futures.”
Feldinor finishes up his meal and begins to assist in collecting up the plates and dishes for the innkeeper’s wife. He has some goodness and charity still within his tiny frame. Need to keep a good place to use as a base or hiding spot…some goodness.
OOC: @Feldinor - Clarification. We are required to report to Captain Zodge at the Basalisk Gate (right outside) and get our mission (or negotiate for one). We are not assigned to work the gate itself. At least not yet.
Also: Excellent use of contacts. I'm really enjoying your writing.
With Feldor's question out, Casta makes to give answer. The lilac tone in the air enriches to the nose of a rose. Golden eyes dance about the ceiling as she considers the options.
"What name to use in combat? An excellent question. If in the heat of battle on line ... swords, spears, horse, lance and shield arrayed against massed dregs of evil, then best invoke the holy militant rank of Chevall, for the Order of the Gauntlet rides against foes of all evil ilk. If in a pitched battle in the scrum of the sewers where we are closely intertwined with defilement, then the more intimate title of Adept is more suited, for Helm watches over and defends all who call on him. If you see the temptations of devils pulling at my life, liver or blood, then invoke my humility with Lapsu, for in that name is a reminder of a shame of which I shall neither speak nor overcome. If you need to evoke my heritage or my eternal promise, then your best word is Casta, for in Casta is a reminder of my blood line and tie to the celestial spheres." Our paladin then pauses as she hears something of an internal voice. A reminder of her teaching's guiding her. Wisdom begins to council and temper pride. Peace Lapsu. Listen to their eyes and hear what they silently say. They listen because they love you. They do not listen because they love your words or teaching. Heed Gonfanier Maroni's sermons. You are bound to them. They are bound to you. They are not bound to your vows. Do not burden them with the yoke you have willingly taken. Give them what they need, not what you want them to have. The rose recedes to the familiar lilac, with now a scent of jasmine behind it. Alas, Master Blackfoot and friends, I regret that my answer was longer than the question required, but I thank you for the honor of listening. In informal mixed company such as this I myself am getting used to being called Casta. She opens a wide smile, silently disciplining herself for flirting with the temptation of pride. It is a subtle monster.
While Feldinor is out, she considers him silently. Strangely polite for a street-man. Are not all of his persuasion already thoroughly morally compromised? Come now, Lapsu. You have fought beside him, but you know him not well enough to make any real judgements. He stood with the side of Justice and barely escaped with his life. If he were but a sandthief disciple, he would have turned you all in for pocket lining. You've asked him not to name you by your calling. Extend the same courtesy to him.
In troth, I've allowed my tongue to get the most of me. You are all to be honored for your patience.
I believe the terse Yokai said it best of all. But I shall now amend.
Zodge. Inkeep. Sign. In that order.
Casta Lapsu stands to her full height. She backs away from the table and fishes out a small steel mirror from a keeper pouch. She checks her translucent, flawless countenance and tiara of golden locks. Makes a few small corrections to ensure an unblemished presentation. She then inspects her armor, for her armor is the symbol of the weight of responsibility. A brush here and a scrub there. Adjust a plate fitting. Tighten a buckle strap. Heft the shield into its rightful place on the left arm. Touch the symbol of Helm adorning her swan like neck. Et Erit Lux de Helm. The symbol erupts in white light as though a burning torch. When you are the representative of a god, let the god go before you.
She strides to the door and opens it. She slides the "Occupied" slat with a picture of a full table to "OPEN" with its picture of an empty table. Lit holy symbol reflecting light off the door as she does so. Taking the lead from Yokai, she says nothing, but gestures with a bow and outward swing of the arm as if to say. "Misery awaits a healing hand. Let us be to it, then."
OOC: Casting Light as a cantrip is an Aasimar racial ability, not a Paladin ability. No Paladin spells at this level.
OOC: Excellent round of intros and repartee on the whole, Adventurers! I’ll use this brief interlude as an opportunity to respond to character matters, as well as some administration:
1a. Sorore Q: DM, what do we know about the Blade and Stars, its enchanted sign, and its missing innkeeper?
1b. Sorore A: As patrons of the Blade and Stars, A Cuspide Corona possesses significant general knowledge about the comfortable old inn, founded over 120 years ago. The Blade and Stars was named for its sign, an enchanted black wooden shield with the image of a curved silver saber held by a woman’s pale, slender arm. The shield’s magic caused glimmering, starlike motes of light to sparkle brightly along the saber’s blade, and protected it from all weather and theft over the long years, but reportedly nothing more. It was rumored to have been looted in those distant times from the ruins of a lost village in Amn, by a raiding party in some trade war lost to memory. The inn itself was quite large, at four stories high with an attached stable, with three upper floors of small apartments, bedrooms, and meeting rooms available for extended stays and private gatherings at four distinct tiers of quality, and the ground floor given over to the large kitchens and a front entrance lobby with a small lounge, where guests could assemble before retiring to their lodging or dining. Prices for both were considered quite fair, and many of the rooms also had private balconies overhanging the street, providing an excellent place to stay or gather while watching the happenings of the city below. The current innkeeper, a tall, middle-aged Turmian man named Aurayaun, had run the Blade and Stars for several years with his wife Lupin and a sizable staff, some of whom also served as guards at times to turn away any trouble from entering the establishment. His disappearance and that of the enchanted shield on the same night within the last month were sudden and without warning. Since then, Aurayaun’s worried wife Lupin has been running the inn, certain that the disappearance is the result of foul play, and furious that the Flaming Fist has concluded otherwise. Further information for you or any of your companions will require a successful History Skill check.
2. Feldinor: How much coin did you deposit in the beggar’s cup? Much to (eventually) further discuss here on these matters!
3. Cost of the Blade and Stars Morningfeast: 7 cp (copper pieces) per character, reflecting an exceedingly fair price for the meal at the “comfortable” standard of fare. Glad to deduct the amount from each of you, unless you wanted to incorporate that into your roleplay. I’ll take care of it for you, if I don’t note otherwise!
Feldinor clears up the last of the plates and comes back into the common room from the kitchen, wiping off any errant food particles that try to attach themselves to his clothes. "Well said Casta. Let's go earn some coin." He takes the opportunity to lead the way past the bowing Paladin and ventures towards Basalisk Gate. "Hey, you there? Where does Captain Zodge happen to be? A Cuspide Corona is here to help the Flaming Fist."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Yokai gets up and heads to the door. As he's about to pass through the threshold, he stops abruptly as he remembers a tidbit of information.
"Harali Avir. Daughter. Kidnapped and murdered."
He proceeds through the door, and moves off to the side of the doorway to let others out. He places his back to a wall and scans the area for trouble. Perception20
He dishevels his clothes and hair, and pulls his cloak over his armor in an attempt to look more like a commoner and blend in with the rabble. Deception17
As the party starts their journey, he walks ten to fifteen feet behind and attempts to disappear into the crowd. Stealth15
OOC: Not sure what rolls you'd want for the last two actions, so let me know if those don't fit your requirements.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As A Cuspide Corona leaves the comfort and relative safety of the Blade and Stars, Murdoch keeps his head on a swivel Perception13. It's a short walk, but there's no sense getting careless.
As Yokai speaks his memory filled words, Casta is taken totally off balance.
What? Who's daughter? When? Just now? Is that why Aurayaun is gone? What do you mean? What do you know? How do we avenge?
By Helm and by Oghma, you can't just say something big like that and slide out.. .. Yokai? . . . Come back here, you cryptic Warlock. What do you MEAN!?
Well, I guess he can. . . . Maybe we'll learn more at dinner.
OOC: From Casta's point of view, that juicy knowledge drop was completely out of the blue. Perfect color for a broody terseman. I love your posts SynAckuL.
OOC: I didn't expect to pass that roll. Didn't want to either. Author/Player wants Yokai to get away with his secret and leave Casta frustrated. I'm going to overrule my own roll because it makes a better story.
With A Cuspide Corona’s immediate course of action decided, Casta’s and Feldinor’s voices most ardent among them, the adventurers end their morningfeast in the clank of dishes, tankards, and coppers, the sounds of leather, wood, and metals settling in readiness, and make their way casually down to the ground floor entrance lobby. They loosely reassemble in the gathering lounge within the flickering white radiance of Casta's glowing symbol of Helm, drawing some last measure of warmth from the large stone fireplace warding off the remnants of the damp morning chill, and head out into the light fog-shrouded, slick cobblestone streets of the Baldur’s Gate Lower City amidst the well-wishes and concerned looks of Lupin and her staff, many of them clearly distracted with their own concerns about Aurayaun and the inn’s enchanted namesake…
OOC: Good Evening, Adventurers! I hope you’ve found the recent graphics useful, which I’ll intermittently provide at times for everything from general orientation (Baldur’s Gate overview and locales) and atmospherics (Baldur's Gate cityscape and Flaming Fist coat of arms) to tactical disposition (definitely coming, as you would surmise).
OOC: For those who previously made History Checks regarding the Blade and Stars, you have already received something from me if you were successful in recalling additional lore (which would have been one of you). Casta noticed that Yokai very deftly wove that into his next post as he shared that information with the company, effectively presenting the distinction between general knowledge and the results of a personal check. This practice will be especially important for some of you in the coming adventure, as the choice of sharing your inner thoughts (including what you know) is entirely your own!
OOC: More to follow shortly on the short journey to the Basilisk Gate once some “variable matters” are resolved!
The adventurers step away from the Blade and Stars into the Lower City, walking up-slope and away from Gray Harbor on their brief journey to the Basilisk Gate. The air remains cool, and far above the morning fog receding from harbor and river within the ‘Gate’s protected crescent, clouds roll south in a cold wind bearing down from the Spine of the World. Still, even by mid-morning the Lower City bustles with business from a myriad of shops, albeit this day with a palpable level of tension among the Baldurians, with the numbers of refugees from Elturgard already within the city before the gates were sealed, and the dark rumors of the fate of their capital Elturel.
Yokai’s steps slow once outside the inn, and as the companions set forth he is almost immediately lost by his intent into the crowds. If Casta perhaps takes note of the Warlock’s subtlety at the outer periphery of her radiance, with her sudden interest in his spoken revelations, the Paladin of Helm makes no further mention of it. For his part, Feldinor receives no informative response to his questions as he sets the party’s eastward course towards the gate, although several move to distance themselves at his mention of the Flaming Fist.
Although the distance is perhaps no more than one thousand feet, the throngs of common folk and the chaotic tangle winding through the cobblestone street give the sense of a longer walk, all still within the chill, daytime shadow beneath the Lower City’s conjoined, slate-roofed stone buildings, which are often spanned stories above the roadway by bridges and buttresses.
Soon enough, within perhaps 15 minutes, the great towers flanking the Basilisk Gate loom into view as the slope also levels out, as well as the battlements of the city’s eastern wall. Beyond them begins the Coast Way, stretching through the majority of the Outer City slums and Wyrm’s Crossing, and then southeast toward Amn, Tethyr, and Calimshan. As the adventurers focus in upon their destination and the mission ahead, however, a somewhat haggard man-at-arms in chainmail, perhaps a guardsman coming off-shift and heading down-slope toward the harbor with a darting, intent cast to his gaze, alters his course at the last moment with a look of hazy recognition to approach Murdoch, not seeming to take in the Ranger’s surrounding companions.
“Hey friend,” he rasps, an insistence to his tired voice, “it’s been too long, hasn’t it? Headin’ to Jopalin’s for that special blend of his, and here you’re goin’ the wrong way. Was it last tenday, we were there? It’s all running together, in these dark times, but you know damn well what I mean…we could all use it right now.”
The man-at-arms at last becomes aware of the rest of the adventurers gathered around him, the consequence of his intrusion, but pauses only a breath before continuing. “With you, are they friend? You know what I’m talking about, but do they? Let’s head back down, bring ’em all with us. Yeah, Jopalin’s good for a first free cup of the special blend, right? Invite ‘em all, friend…time for that damn tea…”
OOC: My first attempt at rolling virtual dice on D&D Beyond! Sorry, should have rolled History earlier as well!
Sorore braces herself against the cool and the damp of the morning outside the inn. Her hands are once again gloved, bearing her slender staff. The Ilmatari greatcloak she wears seems too large, almost hovering around her, the hood pulled far enough forward to shadow her eyes. She smiles reflecting on dear Feldinor's earlier "attempt" to sneak up on her, and hopes she didn't spoil his practice too much with her great perceptiveness. She also considers the ever-interesting proclamations of her more...vocal...friends in this still-unfamiliar place, and the terse comments from the quiet ones. They are perhaps at least as interesting in what they hold back, by personality or purpose. With those thoughts, she closes in on Rigor among the party to walk beside him as they climb toward the Basilisk Gate.
"Brother Rigor, you have been most quiet this morning, but your few words were appreciated. May you find steadfastness and courage as well in these times. Tell me, if you would, what brought a Monk of Ilmater to this restless path?"
While Sorore walks onward and looks forward to Rigor's thoughts, her eyes narrow suspiciously and pace slows as she watches the strange guardsman approach Murdoch in the street.
OOC: Busy busy weekend, lady and gentlemen, but hope you all made your Mothers proud and/or honored their service! 😊
OOC: Sorry for some confusion regarding my last post. Fimrold and I use the same account for DM content sharing in another campaign, and didn't log out before posting in this PBP. The post now indicates roll manipulation because we erased a History check and added a Perception check.
We'll do our best to avoid repeating that mistake.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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“err… uhh..so I think I’ve got it…you prefer to still be called Mrs. And not Ms. Then you like Adept instead of Pally…aaaand you want Lapsu at the end of it all? So Mrs. Adept Lapsu? Seems an awfully long name. what if we are in combat and I only have time for 1 word?” Feldinor looks as innocent as he can during the counter jest. Afterall, I cannot be seen as weak in the eyes of my group but also really don’t mean to offend Mrs. Adept Lapsu. She seems to be decent enough for big folk. “Well whatever name you would like me to call you, I’ll use. Meant no formal offense by the nickname. I’m still getting used to you big folk’s customs and tolerances.”
With that hopeful diffusion of party banter, Feldinor excuses himself to lavatory out the back. As is custom Feldinor knows that there are eyes and ears everywhere and that random beggars are not always what they seem. Feldinor takes advantage of this hidden communications network to get a message to his faithful contact. The message he scribbles on the note he hands off is simple: “request info on location of Blade and Stars sign / innkeeper.” Through his normal routine, Feldinor identifies the runners that make up part of this communication network and makes the handoff, hoping the average big folk are completely unaware Sleight of Hand14. A small deposit into the dirty beggar’s cup, and he heads back inside.
“So we’ve been assigned by the Flaming Fist to the Basilisk Gate, huh? I guess it could be worse. And not dying is a decent enough wage given the alternative. Plus, I like your suggestion we go right to the front and get ourselves known. That will help deter any unfortunate accidents that might be in our individual futures.”
Feldinor finishes up his meal and begins to assist in collecting up the plates and dishes for the innkeeper’s wife. He has some goodness and charity still within his tiny frame. Need to keep a good place to use as a base or hiding spot…some goodness.
OOC: @Feldinor - Clarification. We are required to report to Captain Zodge at the Basalisk Gate (right outside) and get our mission (or negotiate for one). We are not assigned to work the gate itself. At least not yet.
Also: Excellent use of contacts. I'm really enjoying your writing.
With Feldor's question out, Casta makes to give answer. The lilac tone in the air enriches to the nose of a rose. Golden eyes dance about the ceiling as she considers the options.
"What name to use in combat? An excellent question. If in the heat of battle on line ... swords, spears, horse, lance and shield arrayed against massed dregs of evil, then best invoke the holy militant rank of Chevall, for the Order of the Gauntlet rides against foes of all evil ilk. If in a pitched battle in the scrum of the sewers where we are closely intertwined with defilement, then the more intimate title of Adept is more suited, for Helm watches over and defends all who call on him. If you see the temptations of devils pulling at my life, liver or blood, then invoke my humility with Lapsu, for in that name is a reminder of a shame of which I shall neither speak nor overcome. If you need to evoke my heritage or my eternal promise, then your best word is Casta, for in Casta is a reminder of my blood line and tie to the celestial spheres." Our paladin then pauses as she hears something of an internal voice. A reminder of her teaching's guiding her. Wisdom begins to council and temper pride. Peace Lapsu. Listen to their eyes and hear what they silently say. They listen because they love you. They do not listen because they love your words or teaching. Heed Gonfanier Maroni's sermons. You are bound to them. They are bound to you. They are not bound to your vows. Do not burden them with the yoke you have willingly taken. Give them what they need, not what you want them to have. The rose recedes to the familiar lilac, with now a scent of jasmine behind it. Alas, Master Blackfoot and friends, I regret that my answer was longer than the question required, but I thank you for the honor of listening. In informal mixed company such as this I myself am getting used to being called Casta. She opens a wide smile, silently disciplining herself for flirting with the temptation of pride. It is a subtle monster.
While Feldinor is out, she considers him silently. Strangely polite for a street-man. Are not all of his persuasion already thoroughly morally compromised? Come now, Lapsu. You have fought beside him, but you know him not well enough to make any real judgements. He stood with the side of Justice and barely escaped with his life. If he were but a sandthief disciple, he would have turned you all in for pocket lining. You've asked him not to name you by your calling. Extend the same courtesy to him.
In troth, I've allowed my tongue to get the most of me. You are all to be honored for your patience.
I believe the terse Yokai said it best of all. But I shall now amend.
Zodge. Inkeep. Sign. In that order.
Casta Lapsu stands to her full height. She backs away from the table and fishes out a small steel mirror from a keeper pouch. She checks her translucent, flawless countenance and tiara of golden locks. Makes a few small corrections to ensure an unblemished presentation. She then inspects her armor, for her armor is the symbol of the weight of responsibility. A brush here and a scrub there. Adjust a plate fitting. Tighten a buckle strap. Heft the shield into its rightful place on the left arm. Touch the symbol of Helm adorning her swan like neck. Et Erit Lux de Helm. The symbol erupts in white light as though a burning torch. When you are the representative of a god, let the god go before you.
She strides to the door and opens it. She slides the "Occupied" slat with a picture of a full table to "OPEN" with its picture of an empty table. Lit holy symbol reflecting light off the door as she does so. Taking the lead from Yokai, she says nothing, but gestures with a bow and outward swing of the arm as if to say. "Misery awaits a healing hand. Let us be to it, then."
OOC: Casting Light as a cantrip is an Aasimar racial ability, not a Paladin ability. No Paladin spells at this level.
OOC: Excellent round of intros and repartee on the whole, Adventurers! I’ll use this brief interlude as an opportunity to respond to character matters, as well as some administration:
1a. Sorore Q: DM, what do we know about the Blade and Stars, its enchanted sign, and its missing innkeeper?
1b. Sorore A: As patrons of the Blade and Stars, A Cuspide Corona possesses significant general knowledge about the comfortable old inn, founded over 120 years ago. The Blade and Stars was named for its sign, an enchanted black wooden shield with the image of a curved silver saber held by a woman’s pale, slender arm. The shield’s magic caused glimmering, starlike motes of light to sparkle brightly along the saber’s blade, and protected it from all weather and theft over the long years, but reportedly nothing more. It was rumored to have been looted in those distant times from the ruins of a lost village in Amn, by a raiding party in some trade war lost to memory. The inn itself was quite large, at four stories high with an attached stable, with three upper floors of small apartments, bedrooms, and meeting rooms available for extended stays and private gatherings at four distinct tiers of quality, and the ground floor given over to the large kitchens and a front entrance lobby with a small lounge, where guests could assemble before retiring to their lodging or dining. Prices for both were considered quite fair, and many of the rooms also had private balconies overhanging the street, providing an excellent place to stay or gather while watching the happenings of the city below. The current innkeeper, a tall, middle-aged Turmian man named Aurayaun, had run the Blade and Stars for several years with his wife Lupin and a sizable staff, some of whom also served as guards at times to turn away any trouble from entering the establishment. His disappearance and that of the enchanted shield on the same night within the last month were sudden and without warning. Since then, Aurayaun’s worried wife Lupin has been running the inn, certain that the disappearance is the result of foul play, and furious that the Flaming Fist has concluded otherwise. Further information for you or any of your companions will require a successful History Skill check.
2. Feldinor: How much coin did you deposit in the beggar’s cup? Much to (eventually) further discuss here on these matters!
3. Cost of the Blade and Stars Morningfeast: 7 cp (copper pieces) per character, reflecting an exceedingly fair price for the meal at the “comfortable” standard of fare. Glad to deduct the amount from each of you, unless you wanted to incorporate that into your roleplay. I’ll take care of it for you, if I don’t note otherwise!
Though not particularly versed in the deep history of this area, Yokai attempts to recall anything of import. History 17
OOC: Edited to actually roll.
1SP. But the amount or the type of coin isn't as important as the cleverly hidden mark or nick that only certain canton speakers are even aware of. :)
Feldinor clears up the last of the plates and comes back into the common room from the kitchen, wiping off any errant food particles that try to attach themselves to his clothes. "Well said Casta. Let's go earn some coin." He takes the opportunity to lead the way past the bowing Paladin and ventures towards Basalisk Gate. "Hey, you there? Where does Captain Zodge happen to be? A Cuspide Corona is here to help the Flaming Fist."
History 13
Casta spends most of her time in studies of character, but she may have heard something relevant
History 11
Hmmm...I wonder about that inn...
Baldur's Gate Overview Map
The Flaming Fist Coat of Arms
Yokai gets up and heads to the door. As he's about to pass through the threshold, he stops abruptly as he remembers a tidbit of information.
"Harali Avir. Daughter. Kidnapped and murdered."
He proceeds through the door, and moves off to the side of the doorway to let others out. He places his back to a wall and scans the area for trouble. Perception20
He dishevels his clothes and hair, and pulls his cloak over his armor in an attempt to look more like a commoner and blend in with the rabble. Deception17
As the party starts their journey, he walks ten to fifteen feet behind and attempts to disappear into the crowd. Stealth15
OOC: Not sure what rolls you'd want for the last two actions, so let me know if those don't fit your requirements.
Baldur's Gate: The Blade & Stars, and the Basilisk Gate
As A Cuspide Corona leaves the comfort and relative safety of the Blade and Stars, Murdoch keeps his head on a swivel Perception 13. It's a short walk, but there's no sense getting careless.
As Yokai speaks his memory filled words, Casta is taken totally off balance.
What? Who's daughter? When? Just now? Is that why Aurayaun is gone? What do you mean? What do you know? How do we avenge?
By Helm and by Oghma, you can't just say something big like that and slide out.. .. Yokai? . . . Come back here, you cryptic Warlock. What do you MEAN!?
Perception15
Well, I guess he can. . . . Maybe we'll learn more at dinner.
OOC: From Casta's point of view, that juicy knowledge drop was completely out of the blue. Perfect color for a broody terseman. I love your posts SynAckuL.
OOC: I didn't expect to pass that roll. Didn't want to either. Author/Player wants Yokai to get away with his secret and leave Casta frustrated. I'm going to overrule my own roll because it makes a better story.
With A Cuspide Corona’s immediate course of action decided, Casta’s and Feldinor’s voices most ardent among them, the adventurers end their morningfeast in the clank of dishes, tankards, and coppers, the sounds of leather, wood, and metals settling in readiness, and make their way casually down to the ground floor entrance lobby. They loosely reassemble in the gathering lounge within the flickering white radiance of Casta's glowing symbol of Helm, drawing some last measure of warmth from the large stone fireplace warding off the remnants of the damp morning chill, and head out into the light fog-shrouded, slick cobblestone streets of the Baldur’s Gate Lower City amidst the well-wishes and concerned looks of Lupin and her staff, many of them clearly distracted with their own concerns about Aurayaun and the inn’s enchanted namesake…
OOC: Good Evening, Adventurers! I hope you’ve found the recent graphics useful, which I’ll intermittently provide at times for everything from general orientation (Baldur’s Gate overview and locales) and atmospherics (Baldur's Gate cityscape and Flaming Fist coat of arms) to tactical disposition (definitely coming, as you would surmise).
OOC: For those who previously made History Checks regarding the Blade and Stars, you have already received something from me if you were successful in recalling additional lore (which would have been one of you). Casta noticed that Yokai very deftly wove that into his next post as he shared that information with the company, effectively presenting the distinction between general knowledge and the results of a personal check. This practice will be especially important for some of you in the coming adventure, as the choice of sharing your inner thoughts (including what you know) is entirely your own!
OOC: More to follow shortly on the short journey to the Basilisk Gate once some “variable matters” are resolved!
The adventurers step away from the Blade and Stars into the Lower City, walking up-slope and away from Gray Harbor on their brief journey to the Basilisk Gate. The air remains cool, and far above the morning fog receding from harbor and river within the ‘Gate’s protected crescent, clouds roll south in a cold wind bearing down from the Spine of the World. Still, even by mid-morning the Lower City bustles with business from a myriad of shops, albeit this day with a palpable level of tension among the Baldurians, with the numbers of refugees from Elturgard already within the city before the gates were sealed, and the dark rumors of the fate of their capital Elturel.
Yokai’s steps slow once outside the inn, and as the companions set forth he is almost immediately lost by his intent into the crowds. If Casta perhaps takes note of the Warlock’s subtlety at the outer periphery of her radiance, with her sudden interest in his spoken revelations, the Paladin of Helm makes no further mention of it. For his part, Feldinor receives no informative response to his questions as he sets the party’s eastward course towards the gate, although several move to distance themselves at his mention of the Flaming Fist.
Although the distance is perhaps no more than one thousand feet, the throngs of common folk and the chaotic tangle winding through the cobblestone street give the sense of a longer walk, all still within the chill, daytime shadow beneath the Lower City’s conjoined, slate-roofed stone buildings, which are often spanned stories above the roadway by bridges and buttresses.
Soon enough, within perhaps 15 minutes, the great towers flanking the Basilisk Gate loom into view as the slope also levels out, as well as the battlements of the city’s eastern wall. Beyond them begins the Coast Way, stretching through the majority of the Outer City slums and Wyrm’s Crossing, and then southeast toward Amn, Tethyr, and Calimshan. As the adventurers focus in upon their destination and the mission ahead, however, a somewhat haggard man-at-arms in chainmail, perhaps a guardsman coming off-shift and heading down-slope toward the harbor with a darting, intent cast to his gaze, alters his course at the last moment with a look of hazy recognition to approach Murdoch, not seeming to take in the Ranger’s surrounding companions.
“Hey friend,” he rasps, an insistence to his tired voice, “it’s been too long, hasn’t it? Headin’ to Jopalin’s for that special blend of his, and here you’re goin’ the wrong way. Was it last tenday, we were there? It’s all running together, in these dark times, but you know damn well what I mean…we could all use it right now.”
The man-at-arms at last becomes aware of the rest of the adventurers gathered around him, the consequence of his intrusion, but pauses only a breath before continuing. “With you, are they friend? You know what I’m talking about, but do they? Let’s head back down, bring ’em all with us. Yeah, Jopalin’s good for a first free cup of the special blend, right? Invite ‘em all, friend…time for that damn tea…”
Perception 22
OOC: My first attempt at rolling virtual dice on D&D Beyond! Sorry, should have rolled History earlier as well!
Sorore braces herself against the cool and the damp of the morning outside the inn. Her hands are once again gloved, bearing her slender staff. The Ilmatari greatcloak she wears seems too large, almost hovering around her, the hood pulled far enough forward to shadow her eyes. She smiles reflecting on dear Feldinor's earlier "attempt" to sneak up on her, and hopes she didn't spoil his practice too much with her great perceptiveness. She also considers the ever-interesting proclamations of her more...vocal...friends in this still-unfamiliar place, and the terse comments from the quiet ones. They are perhaps at least as interesting in what they hold back, by personality or purpose. With those thoughts, she closes in on Rigor among the party to walk beside him as they climb toward the Basilisk Gate.
"Brother Rigor, you have been most quiet this morning, but your few words were appreciated. May you find steadfastness and courage as well in these times. Tell me, if you would, what brought a Monk of Ilmater to this restless path?"
While Sorore walks onward and looks forward to Rigor's thoughts, her eyes narrow suspiciously and pace slows as she watches the strange guardsman approach Murdoch in the street.
OOC: Busy busy weekend, lady and gentlemen, but hope you all made your Mothers proud and/or honored their service! 😊
OOC: Sorry for some confusion regarding my last post. Fimrold and I use the same account for DM content sharing in another campaign, and didn't log out before posting in this PBP. The post now indicates roll manipulation because we erased a History check and added a Perception check.
We'll do our best to avoid repeating that mistake.