The adventure begins...

It had been billed as a "once in a lifetime" opportunity...a "must-see" show. However, as of yet, the promise of seeing the famed Bartos Brothers Circus and Traveling Players that lured you to this split-in-the-road community of Windy Valley has been anything but.

In fact, it's been more of a "no-show" event.

Three long, cold, windy days overdue, people have begun to grumble about the circus' delay. Much of that grumbling coming from you and your new friends, all trapped in the all-too close quartered, comfy confines of the Come On Inn, a ramshackle tavern in Windy Valley. This particular night, as patience has run thin among both travelers to the community and its own residents, the barkeep has kept the taps open and the ale flowing. Lifting the mood, the locals have enticed Intun Alderson, a local, aging war veteran who currently serves as the town's constable, with rounds upon rounds of drinks to regale everyone with his tales of battle while serving in Mulmaster's campaign to clear the neighboring lands of goblinfolk. With each tale, the veteran's legacy grows with the townfolk and, though you've seen a bit of adventure yourselves, you have to admit the man's storied bravery is inspiring and a good way to waste away an otherwise cold and windy evening.

Intun is mid-sentence in recounting a battle with a scavenging band of goblins when the inn's door bursts open and a young boy rushes in, making a bee-line for him. 

"Master Alderson! Master Alderson! They've taken her! They've taken my sister, Jalie!" the boy wails as the cheers turn to gasps. "The dark traveler took her. He's headed for the ruined tower. You have to save her Master Alderson!"

As the boy finishes his plea, all eyes turn to the aging hero only to see Intun has plopped back down into the nearest chair, his face gone white and his hand trembling as he reaches forth to grab the nearest drink and drain it.

"I can...not...," he utters with a trembling voice. "I will not go back there."

In a brief moment of sobriety and clarity, the war hero's eyes settle on you all. 

"You must save her, adventurers," he rasps. "For all that is good and right, save her from that place."

((Below, each of you may make a post offering a bit of backstory of your character, how they came to Windy Valley and a description. Once everyone is in game, we'll pick up with Intun from there.))

Markus is a large, muscular barbarian that's dressed in red and grey with hair so blond it's almost white. After surviving the wilds of Icewind Dale and then spending another three months working as part of a fishing crew in exchange for getting back to a real civilization, Markus thought that it would be nice to see the circus, but with them being a no-show, he's stuck in the tavern along with everyone else. "Honestly, it's not that cold out." He says in response to his comrade's complaints about the weather and it really isn't, when compared to where he comes from. 

"What tower is this? Why can't you go back there?" He asks in response to Intun's insistence that the party settle this in his stead.

Zook Lookeyluke is sitting near the fire place with a book in hand.  On his table is some half eaten cheese and a glass of goats milk.   Zook was never much of drinker.  With his bulbous gnome nose and large spectacles buried in the book he barely notices the boy's cry for help.   He is reading a very interesting chapter of his book on how to better curdle milk to make robust gouda.  Zook loved cheese, even though he was lactose intolerant.  The sudden silence of the crowd breaks his concentration. 

In a very matter of fact voice "Oh....what?  What is it that you say?  A child in distress?  That is most troubling, most troubling.  The dark traveler you say?  I've never heard of such a person"  He pulls out a book on local myths and legends and begins to quickly thumb through.  "Well, if we are to help the young girl we will need to devise a plan.  Tell me more about this tower?  Where is it?  How old is it?  Nnnnn.....does it have any known defensive properties."  He looks to anyone else around the bar.

Zook is new to the area.  He had spent much of his adolescence learning about the arcane arts at various academies. 7 to be exact.  But for some reason he never made it through a quarter before he was expelled from the schools.  It wasn't because he was a trouble maker; heaven's know.  He never broke a rule.  At least any logical rules.  And it wasn't because of his grades in his classes.  He had the highest marks amongst all his peers which he was happy to remind them in a matter of fact way.  And it definitely wasn't because of his winning personality.  His mother always told him he was special.  She even had him "tested".  As much as he pondered the answer to his expulsions, the answer eluded him.  Unhappy with the public education he had experienced thus far, Zook decided to try an alternate method of learning.  He called it life schooling.  He would go from town to town learning as much as he could from it's occupants before moving on.  He of course would also share his gifted intellect with it's townsfolk.  They were going to be so lucky to meet him, he thought. 

Zook looks to his companions who were much brawnier than him he says "I think the probability of us helping this you lady could be moderate to high.  Hmmm....75% chance of success.  What do you think my colleagues?"          

BY ORDER OF WAR COMMANDER ARCHDUCHESS ZARIEL
RULER OF AVERNUS, THE FIRST LAYER

SEQUESTERED INQUISITORIAL DOSSIER
AUTHORIZED DEVILS ONLY

CASE FILE: 63334B:344M:Xa83

I, Lieutenant Preceptor Camilla, do hereby give formal notice and declaration of my official defection from the War Against Acheron. I want it to be known that I no longer wish to be regarded as a solider and medical professional to the Armies of Hell, and a citizen of Avernus. I further declare that I am aware of the consequences of this act regarding defection, not limited to but including the removal of my status and rank within the Army. I understand to make this decision known to any next of kin and to ensure that they are aware of these circumstances in the case of my being incapacitated. I acknowledge that I make this declaration under solemn oath, being of sound mind and body, and in the presence of a witness who can testify as to the validity of this document. I have seen enough death, suffering, and torment to last a lifetime, and I no longer wish to be a part of the survival of our society. Keep in mind that any attempt to find me, or harm me, outside of the layers of Hell will be met with full retaliation and violence.

My name is Camilla.

Before, I was a half breed medical officer serving the First Layer of Hell, Avernus. Today, I am a defector, an adventurer. I have a story to share that no one believes, and those whom I travelled with who witnessed it with me are no longer here. In order to put this into perspective, I must explain a little about my past and how this came to be. I am a tiefling. To understand where I come from, and what I have seen, we must start from the beginning.

I was raised on Avernus, the first layer of Hell, during a period of time known as the War Against Acheron. It was during this time I was reared and trained, where Hell defended itself against the Plane of War - led by the mighty Primes - fighting us back with a tenacity and ferocity unlike my people had ever seen. Under the command of Archdevil Zariel, I was indoctrinated into the Infernal War Machine and showed a love of healing, of helping the sick, and caring for the wounded. Eventually, I had reached the rank of Lieutenant Preceptor. In an effort to turn the tide, I was forced to use my medical talents in horrible ways beyond description. I had a conflict of loyalties, and I defected. I was deemed a traitor to the War Effort.

I managed to escape Avernus to the Sword Coast, and yearned to have a normal life free of Hellish servitude. I rode on a caravan north, reached a town called Greenest with a group of adventurers, and a series of events unfolded that changed my life forever which ended in pain and suffering at the hands of the Queen of Dragons, Tiamat. We barely escaped with our lives. Broken and lost, I travelled the land once more to find my place on this world. I had another encounter with a group of adventurers where we explored a keep on the border of the Shadowfell - murdering creatures and cultists alike. 

Time went by, and the tug of exploration poked me again. It was difficult to settle in one place. Most areas I went, people did not trust me, or I came close to capture and interrogation by hellish forces - or worse. It was difficult to form long lasting relationships, for Hell would always be looking for me, one step behind, and it was time to move on once more.

A LITTLE WHILE AGO

A number of years went by.

I caught wind of it. The "once in a lifetime" opportunity...the "must-see" show. The promise of seeing the famed Bartos Brothers Circus and Traveling Players? That's exactly what I could use. So, I travelled to Windy Valley and stayed at the Come On Inn.

"Why would anyone WALK anywhere?!" cried Camilla's exasperated imp.
Camilla snorted in a quick laugh. "Not everyone has wings like you, Xixtal."
Xixtal groaned loudly, the pace was too slow. "Pace too slow. So bored! Where we go!?"
"We're almost there. Look. You can see the town from here. You'll like the circus."
Xixtal sighed. "Imps no like circus! No like this place! Too cold. Not enough fire."
Camilla smiled. "Just the way I like it. Oh. That reminds me. We can't have you flying and looking like that. Time for a makeover."
"No! No! I don't wanna be a-" Xixtal screamed in dread.
Camilla waved her hand, and Xixtal poofed into a totally different animal. Camilla caught him mid air as he fell, and where once Xixtal was an imp, he was now a short white haired cat. Camilla looked him over, satisfied. She set him down. "Perfect."
Xixtal looked up at her, flustered and annoyed. He attempted to speak, and as he tried, he farted instead - tail wiggling slightly. Camilla laughed. "No, you don't. Come on, "Poopy"."

COME ON INN

But the circus was a no show, and the tales of Intun Alderson kept us entertained nevertheless. While staying at the Inn, I had made a few new friends. As the boy came into the inn pleading for us to find his missing sister, I knew that fate, perhaps, might smile on me again.

"75% chance of success?" Camilla echoed. "I like those odds." Her cat looked at her from the floor and farted a few times, softly, tail waving. She gave him a stern look. "Poopy, be nice.."

Camilla is a blonde Tiefling with a small attractive trim frame typical of someone who's spent most of her life reading books and saving lives, with just enough athletic ability thanks to a number of years as an adventurer, but nothing special in that department. Her hair is long, her skin is nearly white, and her eyes are blue with long dark eyelashes. Besides her ram's horns, her most defining feature is a pair of glasses she wears on her face with frames that are way too large. They look like they've been broken a few times, too.

Zook gives a slight grin from under his large nose, happy that the cat broke wind the same time he snuck out a silent but deadly dairy fart.

Camilla sniffed, her glasses nearly fogging at the fart she suddenly smelled but didn't hear. She looked at Poopy. "Great First Layer, was that you? Wow. We have to examine your diet."  Poopy gave her a vicious look. "Come on. Lets go see what all this fuss is about. We're low on money and we have to keep moving anyways."

She would walk with Zook and join the others and listen in.

Zook puts up his book and walks over to the group.  As he does he takes out a monocle and gets almost in the cat's face.  "What a peculiar specimen.  Haven't seen this breed before.  It looks like it has some of the muscular build of a Cyprus, but those ears could point to a Balinese background.  On the other hand that coat is more akin to a Vandeski.   Most unusual indeed."

He plops down in the nearest chair and pulls out a small journal and quill.  "Now, now.  Someone tell me the schematics and other details of the tower post haste.  That way we could extricate the young lady at the most efficient rate."

"Yeah, if we're gonna be going into this tower for you, I think that we have a right to know what's in there that's got you so shaken."

"What a peculiar specimen.  Haven't seen this breed before.  It looks like it has some of the muscular build of a Cyprus, but those ears could point to a Balinese background.  On the other hand that coat is more akin to a Vandeski.   Most unusual indeed."

PFFFRT!

Camilla gasped at the cat, appalled. "Poopy!" She then turned to Zook, apologetic. "I'm sorry, Zoinks, he's not usually this unfriendly." she said, looking at the feline and growling the last word at him. Then, back to Zook. "Yes, he is unusual." Poopy sighed and looked at the camera.

"Dark traveller?" comes in a deep, gruff but clear voice behind the group as they gather to look at the boy and Intun.  Glancing back they see a huge, muscular half-orc clad in chainmail which is covered with fetishes and charms.  The nearly seven-foot-tall man has a shield strapped across his back, next to a sheaf of javelins and backpack.  A huge, double-bladed, notched axe carved with odd orc inscriptions looks small in his huge hands and a smaller battleaxe is hung through a loop in his belt.  He looks over everyone's shoulders down at the boy, intently interested in what he has to say.

Tarak has been in the inn for a few days now.  You've all spoken to him.  Despite his crude looks, he speaks clearly and with an educated accent - for a half-orc.  He claims to be a shaman and the fetishes and talismans which cover his body and equipment seem to back that up.  He has told you that some strange cultists destroyed his shrine in the northlands and he's been following their trail ever since.  He didn't come here for the circus and, from speaking to him, you'd guess he's not that worried about it.

Could dark traveller be the Traveller in Black?   This might be the first solid lead I have had in months...

Camilla looked down at Poopy.

"Look, I know you don't like being a cat, but we can't have you as an imp flying around here and scaring everyone. We don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves for a number of reasons, one main one being Avernus is still looking for us - and if they find us, my fate will be much worse than yours, that's for sure. It's best for everyone."

Poopy's tail wiggled.

"Be nice, and let's enjoy our time with our new friends. You never know when you'll never seem them again.."

Intun groans, waving his hand to beckon another mug of ale his way. After another heavy draw from it, settles himself a bit and then he sighs. "Yes, yes. Whatever you need to know, ask and I'll do my best to answer." He gives a hard glance to the barkeep, waving his arms widely, "Clear us some space, Eddie. This is official business and not a place for gawkers!"

He takes another big swig, giving the hand motion of "keep 'em coming" to the barkeep. "Ask your questions, but do so in haste. The girl's life is likely at stake."

"Well, let's see." Camilla said, pushing her glasses back on her nose. "Markus asked: "What tower is this? Why can't you go back there?" she did her best to make a vocal impression of you. "And Zook asked: Someone tell me the schematics and other details of the tower post haste." she said, making an impression of you, too. "But that really wasn't a question. Oh! And Tarak said: Dark Traveller?" 

Another swig, before shifting forward and placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, Intun looks at the floor as he talks.

"A stranger in black arrived about a week ago. People took to calling him the dark traveler due to his attire and quiet manner. He was polite enough, but persistent. He went about town asking lots of questions about the ruins," Intun says. "People around here don't go up there, but there's the stuff of legends to tell. The tower was built centuries ago by a wizard whose name has been forgotten. He grew to some power, but -- as such stories go -- disappeared without a trace one day...leaving the tower to slowly wither into ruin."

The veteran takes another drink before continuing. "Of course, as legends tend to go, people claim the place is haunted, evil, whatnot. People just stay away." He pauses, raising his head, looking about to make sure no one else is close. "The smart ones do anyways."

He grabs his drink again, draining it and letting the mug fall to the floor. Tears well in his eyes. "I was never too smart, though," he says sadly, looking from one to the other of you. "And I'm not as brave as the stories say either."

Intun sits quiet for a few moments before continuing, obviously wrestling with some inner thoughts.

"It's true I was soldier. It's true I fought to clear these lands of goblinfolk," he says. "But one night, back here in town with a few of me fellow soldiers, the ale flowed freely as did the tall tales. We decided why die fighting goblins when we could pillage those ruins and find the treasures of those tales."

Intun goes on to tell of how in the haze of drink and big stories he and his fellows made their way to the mountain ruin and broke into the old tombs. None of the others survived. He remembers the goblins, but the creatures worshiped other things; horrible things, with tentacles and fanged maws. The dreams still haunt him. He fled leaving his friends to die, taking a magic sword and what coins he could carry on the way, and going back to the village of his birth; forever in the shadow of his guilt.

Another pause, a chuckle and waving for a new drink.

"As for a map, wee one, I feared for my life, running scared. I had no map...but some say the Traveler did."

"You do a good impression of me, for someone that's way smaller than I am." Markus says to Camilla.

He grabs his drink again, draining it and letting the mug fall to the floor. Tears well in his eyes. "I was never too smart, though," he says sadly, looking from one to the other of you. "And I'm not as brave as the stories say either."

Camilla whipped out her hand. Just above it appeared what looked like a magical arcane readout. It was two dimensional, about eight inches by eight inches across, and displayed medical information about whatever she was pointing at, in this case, Intun.

"You also appear to have a liver that's working overtime, i'm afraid. You should watch how much you've been drinking - which is a lot - it seems, by the way, from these readings."

The arcane display vanished as she dropped her hands behind her back, and she looked around nervously, clearing her throat. Poopy farted, glaring at her.

"Sorry." she said. "Continue."

"Sometimes it's not all about size." Camilla says to Markus, smirking.

Zook looks at Camilla unimpressed.  “Hmmm...what a unique...talent.  But not to useful.  Seems more like an art form and we all know the arts aren’t important to education and expanding one’s mind.”  

Zook closes his book and looks at the old soldier.  “So what your saying is you have no useful data at all.   Just your first hand “experience” in the tower.  My apologies, but it seems like this story could have just as easily been conjured up in a drunken stupor.”

”The only way to get any conclusive data is to collect it ourselves....sober.” 

Camilla shrugged. Poopy was about to say something in retort, but Camilla looked down with a stern look and shook her head no. Poopy sat back down, disappointed.

Sitting near the back of the room, Morrigan had spent most of the past few days scribbling notes in her large tome. Dressed in a long, tattered, and dirty red cloak, her long staff leans against her chair, adorned with the skull of an animal from the mountain pass. Sitting on the table she has been writing at, is a strange decorative human skull with a scroll in it's mouth. The little she had when she staggered in at the beginning of the storm, was that she was from the east and was looking for experiences to write about that would liven her lords day to read. She mentioned that she had hear of a world famous circus and thought it would be a good start to her story. Over the next few days, she asked around the tavern, looking to write down the names and deeds of those who have passed on for the Lord of the End and Everything. 

Morrigan stands up from her table upon hearing this, "Now this sounds like something my lord will enjoy reading. A number of interesting names to record as well that may be lost within the tower. Sir, can you tell me the names of your companions incase we come upon their remains? I would like to record their passing and honor their memory."