The frontier town of Phandalin is built on the ruins of a much older settlement. Hundreds of years ago, the old Phandalin was a thriving human town whose people were firmly allied with neighboring dwarves and gnomes. Then an orc horde swept through the area and laid waste to the settlement, and Phandalin was abandoned for centuries.
In the last three or four years, settlers from the cities of Neverwinter and Waterdeep have begun the hard work of reclaiming the ruins of Phandalin. The new settlement is home now to farmers, woodcutters, fur traders, and prospectors drawn by stories of gold and platinum in the foothills of the Sword Mountains. The arrival of a white dragon threatens to destroy all that they’ve worked to rebuild.
Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the townmaster’s hall, is a job board for adventurers.
(I recommend meeting up at Stonehill Inn and starting with having a place to stay while you are there.)
Map of Phandalin:
Points of Interest:
Stonehill Inn
This modest, two-story roadhouse has six rooms for rent on the upper floor. A bed for the night costs 5 sp, while a meal costs 1 sp. The proprietor is a short, friendly male human named Toblen Stonehill. Toblen is a native of the town of Triboar to the east. He came to Phandalin to prospect, but soon realized that he knew a lot more about running an inn than he did about mining.
Barthen’s Provisions
The shelves of this general store stock most ordinary goods and supplies, including backpacks, bedrolls, rope, and rations. Barthen’s doesn’t stock weapons or armor, but characters can purchase other adventuring gear here, with the exception of items that cost more than 25 gp. The proprietor, Elmar Barthen, is a lean and balding human man of fifty years. He employs a couple of young clerks (Ander and Thistle) who help load and unload wagons, and who wait on customers when Barthen isn’t around.
Lionshield Coster
Hanging above the front door of this modest trading post is a sign shaped like a wooden shield with a blue lion painted on it.
This building is owned by the Lionshields, a merchant company based in the city of Yartar over a hundred miles to the east. The company ships finished goods to Phandalin and other small settlements throughout the region. The master of the Phandalin post is a sharp-tongued human woman of thirty-five named Linene Graywind. Linene keeps a supply of armor and weapons, all of which are for sale to interested buyers.
Phandalin Miner’s Exchange
Miners come here to have their valuable finds weighed, measured, and paid out. The exchange also serves as an unofficial records office, registering claims to various streams and excavations around the area. Enough wealth is hidden in the nearby streams and valleys to support a good number of independent prospectors.
The exchange is a great place to meet people who spend a lot of time out and about in the countryside surrounding Phandalin. The guildmaster is a calculating human woman named Halia Thornton.
Shrine of Luck
Phandalin’s only temple is a shrine made of stones taken from the nearby ruins. It is dedicated to Tymora (goddess of luck and good fortune) and is normally in the care of a zealous elf acolyte named Sister Garaele. However, she is out of town for the duration of this adventure.
:Feel free to enter however and whenever you like: I recommend a physical description and a brief personality description (Including a picture if you want) followed by entering the town and going wherever you want. Though this is only a recommendation after all. You're free to do it how you want. The world is your Plumbus.
Ervalin arrived late last night at the Stonehill Inn, drawn to Phandalin by rumours of dragons in the mountains. After spending the few hours of quiet before sunrise in meditation, Ervalin made his way to the common room to get breakfast and ask the innkeep if the rumours were true.
Ervalin approaches the bar in simple and a little travel-worn clothes and cloth wraps for shoes, looking almost like a beggar, if not for his ornate spellbook clasped at his hip and his noble features, meaning he was either an ascetic or just down on his luck. He has the pointy ears of Elven kind, golden hair flowing past his shoulders, fair skin and warm golden eyes, and a tattoo of leafless branches on his forehead.
Toblen raises an eyebrow as he looks at the shoe-less elf "Which one? Towns got a lot of rumors you know." Deep down he was a little tense, but on he surface he was joyful though a bit sarcastic. What if the rumor had to do with him though?
Toblen is a short man with short brown hair and the beginning of a beard. He has a scar on his left eyebrow segmenting it in half. He is behind the bar of the inn on the first floor, cleaning a glass.
"Well, about the dragon, of course. I'd think that to be the rumour that would interest every newcomer foremost." Ervalin sniffs and looks around for any food being carried trying to guess what's for breakfast. He was hungry, but he just had to ask about the dragon first.
Ines Mayweather stands about 5'4 with Sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. She dresses simply, almost always in her armor - reddish leather with the Unsleeping Eye stamped into the chest. She is kind to all she meets and as a true caretaker, will not hesitate to lend a hand. However, growing up in the temple has given Ines a black and white view of the ideals of the world. Tradition is the guiding force of Ines's life. She left the temple to go out in the world and do Helm's work.
Ines had been traveling for several days from Silverymoon when she arrived in Phandalin from the North with a small band of traders. The traders headed to Lionshield Coster in the southern reaches of town while showing Ines the local inn. With a wave of good-bye to the traders, Ines went inside. The talk of dragons catches her ears and she walks over to the elf and human. "Good day, gentleman. I would also like to hear news of this dragon."
Having been drawn to Phandalin himself on rumours of what might be driving the orc's so far from their mountain home, he too is breakfasting early at the Inn, quietly sitting near the hearth contemplating the meal before him. As the elf makes his way down the stairs, Conendyl takes note of him casually, sizing him up as a potential threat as he would anyone he met in the wilds. As the elf settles himself at the bar and addresses Toblen his attention is drawn immediately to the conversation, responding to the question about rumours abruptly "Rumours eh, well something has put the fear of the abyss into those damn mountain orcs, seen too many of em to count, and put a good many to rest, but they are like rats fleeing from a hungry cat, swarmed right through me village, lucky I was out roving or it'd have been a massacre. Whatever got em so riled up has gotta be real mean indeed". With that, Conendyl stands and makes his way over to where Toblen and the elf are, his remaining breakfast in hand and sits not waiting to be asked "Me names's Conendyl, I be wanting to hear about the goings on about, don't let me stop ye talking".
From his bearing, clothes and smell, it is obvious that Conen is more accustomed to rough life in the wilds than the relative refinement of town life. His cloak is muddied and rough hewn, clearly made for function than form, under which is a supple coat of leather armor, with twin shortswords nestled on either hip. His is lean but not overly muscled, clearly built for life in the forests at the foothills of the mountain range he used to call home. His long brown hair is pulled back into a pony tail, and his tanned face and calculating blue eyes give further evidence of his outlander ways. What might be mistaken for poor manners or even rude behaviour may just be a result of his nature, do what you need to do to survive what the world throws at you, leaving him inclined to pursue his own agenda first and foremost, a trait that may not be that well received at first.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Bubbles the Barbarian" (Locathah - Lvl 9) - Locathah Rising; Shai'ere Delatete (Githyanki Monk - Lvl 9) Rrakkma (deceased - MindFlayer); Saros Rockfoot (Deep Gnome Diviner - Lvl 5) - The Lost Kenku & One Grung Above; Tagret (Goliath Barbarian - Lvl 2) - Tales of Faerun;
Ervalin looks at the two newcomers quickly, careful not to stare "Well met! I am Ervalin Lathalas of Myth Drannor." He smiles at Toblen "I think this proves my point. What can you tell us, Toblen?"
"Lafayette! You ready!?" Toblen shouts to the back towards the kitchen "Yeah now, you know I'm always ready babeh!" You hear a deep feminine male voice call back Toblen nods and smiles "So, lets start with an order of food and you can get filled up a'for you go." He listens to each of your orders attentively, takes it to Lafayette, and comes back. "Alright." He takes a breath in, puts his hands on the bar, and prepares himself. "Some say there is a dragon. They say the reason the orcs have been causing so much trouble is because they themselves have been displaced by a white. " "I know, I know, you may have your reason too for trying to take this thing on, but I warn you. Others have come through here trying to prove themselves by taking on a dragon. I haven't seen any of them come back though. We have found some of them frozen and missing some of their gear." He looks around at those in the tabled eating area, including those who had not introduced themselves. Taking note of the lack of shoes and subtle gamy odor from another. "Maybe you folk start small and work your way up, eh? The people around here are goodly folk and usually have some kind of problem that would be almost mundane for you, but it still pays. Most people go to the Townmaster when they have an issue and he in turn creates jobs for adventuerin' types like yourselves. Those Jobs can be found on the job board outside of the Townmaster's hall, which is the large building south east of the Shrine of Luck. If you have any questions about any of the other shops in town, I'll take em and give you the best I know. The food should'nt be much longer now"
(He seem genuine in his wanting to help you guys as much as possible)
After a few minutes a tall bald, well built, darkskined man in a du ragg and Kimono comes out with all of your orders and serves them with a smile.
Tobeln covers his face and sighs, thanking the gods Lafayette wasn't too much today. This was modest.
Realizing orders are being taken, Ines quickly blurts out hers as well with a quick and flustered "Thanks!" She listens to Tobeln, nodding as he speaks. When Lafayette brings out their food her eyes widen slightly, never having seen someone dressed quite like him. "Oh, that's a pretty robe," she blurts starting to reach out to touch the cloth then stopped. Realizing she might not be giving the best image of capability. She sets her hands on the bar and clears her throat. "Uhm, I'm Ines Mayweather, and I am here to help however I can."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Upon hearing Toblen state that indeed it is thought that a dragon is behind the orc's demise his veneer of self-assuredness breaks for a moment and those that are quick enough will see the realisation that he is ill prepared for such an undertaking and replies "I can't argue with that Torblen, orcs are one thing but dragons...." he trails off for a moment before turning to Ines, sizing the cleric up "Help you say...I'd say I need it for sure....although you're gonna get those fancy robes dirty heading into the wilds...you sure you're up to it?". "And you, elf, well met, don't know where or what Myth Drannor might be, but you seem a bit more at home with hardship" at which point he scratches his chin in thought for a moment "You know, I don't fancy ending up as a dragons dessert any time soon, but a chance to find some critters, specially orcs if they're out there, and get paid, that's what I call a good day." and with that statement he falls quiet, returning to eating what was left of the breakfast he started earlier, happy to take in another serve if offerred.
Ervalin stops eating when his name is mentioned realizing he was, very uncharacteristically, stuffing his face. Too long on the road without proper food...
"Yes, well, I do intend to see this dragon or at least his hoard, but Toblen is right. We should make sure we are well equipped. I'd be delighted to share the road with you. So far I found the Sword Coast do be a bit unfriendly towards the lone traveler. There could be others who would like to join us, too.", he adds in a slightly raised voice, looking around the room.
(I've been waiting for the others too, but will rp some)
Ines finishes her meal, looking at Conendyl. " I am here to help those who can not help themselves. I'm a cleric of Helm. It is my purpose, as it is all good folks who have the strength to do so. A little dirt is of no consequence."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Entering the town of Phandalin was a daunting thing for the lumbering goliath. The hunters he had been with for the last few days had treated him as an equal. His bow and knife skills talking louder than his immense size. But the town's people were different. They stared at him with cranes necks. Perhaps they had never seen one of his kind. Perhaps, dressed in his piecemeal armour and animal furs he looked more like a barbarian than a man of the land. Perhaps it was the tattoos on his exposed forearms and face that made him look like stone and not flesh.
Feeling self conscious he opens the door to the Inn and enters without fuss. His bulking 7ft frame filling the doorway, so much so that he ducks as entering. Scanning the room he spots a seat at the bar. Quietly he heads there and orders breakfast. He apologizes to the group already gathered there for interrupting the conversation. An interesting conversation at that. He sits quietly, eating and listening.
Taraven came to Phandalin this morning after hearing rumors regarding the white dragon. Famished from her journey, she goes into the Stonehill Inn and find a seat at the bar near a group that is having a conversation with the barkeep. She is eavesdropping in hopes of finding out more information about the white dragon. Seated next to the group is a blue tiefling with black hair pulled back into a braid and red eyes. She is wearing common clothes to "blend in" but doesn't really work since she is a tiefling.
When there was mention in the group that intending to head into the wild and possibly see the dragon, this intrigues Taraven and she wants in. So blurts out to the group, "I once knew this guy who was a sorcerer and he said his magic comes from white dragon blood in his blood...or was it that his ancestors made a deal with a white dragon for magic powers that involved an exchange in blood....Anyway, can I join you on your journey? Oh my name is Taraven Khalclaw by the way." Taraven can definitely be awkward.
OOC: So it seems that Jonah is the only one yet to post...there has been plenty of time to wait so I am assuming that he will have to find another way to be introduced.
IC: Conen's eyes widen as he sees the giant of a man struggling to get through the door, hand instinctively going to he sword, but relaxing when sees the furs and bearing that mark the big man as hailing from the wilds and someone that he understands much more than the others crowding around. He nods to the man "Well met brother - it's good to come across a normal soul" he says, glances quickly at the weird array of foreigners that seem to have no good reason to be here "Meself's from the edge of the forests under the range, never heard of any giant outlanders near there, you must be aways from home? Can't wait to see the back of.....civilisation....Torblen here" he gestures to the innkeep "has said there be coin to be had from doing what these villagers can't do for 'emselves. Gonna find me the Townmaster and see what's what, see if there be any orcs causin' trouble. These folk seem determined to venture into the wilds, so mayhaps you & I can keep them from gettin' themselves killed out there." and to the others he continues "When you fancy folk are all done eating and such, grab yer gear and come to meet the Townmaster, the day is a wasting" and with that he pulls out enough silver to settle his bill and heads upstairs to collect his pack and crossbow before returning downstairs some 10 minutes later to see whether any of the group has decided accompany him beofre heading out the door and toward the Townmasters building, to the south and east of the shrine.
(The last player can come in at another point so we can continue)
Torblen smiles, and presents a to go satchel of food for the goliath. Then accepts the coin, 2 silver. He sets them on the bar, looks around, and taps the two silver to indicate expecting the same from the others.
"May Tymora smile upon you all." He says as a goodbye
Dragon Of Icepire Peak
The frontier town of Phandalin is built on the ruins of a much older settlement. Hundreds of years ago, the old Phandalin was a thriving human town whose people were firmly allied with neighboring dwarves and gnomes. Then an orc horde swept through the area and laid waste to the settlement, and Phandalin was abandoned for centuries.
In the last three or four years, settlers from the cities of Neverwinter and Waterdeep have begun the hard work of reclaiming the ruins of Phandalin. The new settlement is home now to farmers, woodcutters, fur traders, and prospectors drawn by stories of gold and platinum in the foothills of the Sword Mountains. The arrival of a white dragon threatens to destroy all that they’ve worked to rebuild.
Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the townmaster’s hall, is a job board for adventurers.
(I recommend meeting up at Stonehill Inn and starting with having a place to stay while you are there.)
Map of Phandalin:
Points of Interest:
Stonehill Inn
This modest, two-story roadhouse has six rooms for rent on the upper floor. A bed for the night costs 5 sp, while a meal costs 1 sp. The proprietor is a short, friendly male human named Toblen Stonehill. Toblen is a native of the town of Triboar to the east. He came to Phandalin to prospect, but soon realized that he knew a lot more about running an inn than he did about mining.
Barthen’s Provisions
The shelves of this general store stock most ordinary goods and supplies, including backpacks, bedrolls, rope, and rations. Barthen’s doesn’t stock weapons or armor, but characters can purchase other adventuring gear here, with the exception of items that cost more than 25 gp. The proprietor, Elmar Barthen, is a lean and balding human man of fifty years. He employs a couple of young clerks (Ander and Thistle) who help load and unload wagons, and who wait on customers when Barthen isn’t around.
Lionshield Coster
This building is owned by the Lionshields, a merchant company based in the city of Yartar over a hundred miles to the east. The company ships finished goods to Phandalin and other small settlements throughout the region. The master of the Phandalin post is a sharp-tongued human woman of thirty-five named Linene Graywind. Linene keeps a supply of armor and weapons, all of which are for sale to interested buyers.
Phandalin Miner’s Exchange
Miners come here to have their valuable finds weighed, measured, and paid out. The exchange also serves as an unofficial records office, registering claims to various streams and excavations around the area. Enough wealth is hidden in the nearby streams and valleys to support a good number of independent prospectors.
The exchange is a great place to meet people who spend a lot of time out and about in the countryside surrounding Phandalin. The guildmaster is a calculating human woman named Halia Thornton.
Shrine of Luck
Phandalin’s only temple is a shrine made of stones taken from the nearby ruins. It is dedicated to Tymora (goddess of luck and good fortune) and is normally in the care of a zealous elf acolyte named Sister Garaele. However, she is out of town for the duration of this adventure.
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
The Players:
SinarLightwood As Grimadim
TaravenKhalclaw as Taraven Khalclaw
Jilguera as Ines Mayweather
trustlife1990 as Ervalin Lathalas
Treewy as Jonah Trevois
MuggsHill as Conendyl Nerikian
And
RevelTheMad as The DM
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
:Feel free to enter however and whenever you like:
I recommend a physical description and a brief personality description (Including a picture if you want) followed by entering the town and going wherever you want. Though this is only a recommendation after all. You're free to do it how you want. The world is your Plumbus.
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
Ervalin arrived late last night at the Stonehill Inn, drawn to Phandalin by rumours of dragons in the mountains. After spending the few hours of quiet before sunrise in meditation, Ervalin made his way to the common room to get breakfast and ask the innkeep if the rumours were true.
Ervalin approaches the bar in simple and a little travel-worn clothes and cloth wraps for shoes, looking almost like a beggar, if not for his ornate spellbook clasped at his hip and his noble features, meaning he was either an ascetic or just down on his luck. He has the pointy ears of Elven kind, golden hair flowing past his shoulders, fair skin and warm golden eyes, and a tattoo of leafless branches on his forehead.
"Are these rumors true, Toblen?"
Toblen raises an eyebrow as he looks at the shoe-less elf "Which one? Towns got a lot of rumors you know."
Deep down he was a little tense, but on he surface he was joyful though a bit sarcastic. What if the rumor had to do with him though?
Toblen is a short man with short brown hair and the beginning of a beard. He has a scar on his left eyebrow segmenting it in half.
He is behind the bar of the inn on the first floor, cleaning a glass.
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
"Well, about the dragon, of course. I'd think that to be the rumour that would interest every newcomer foremost." Ervalin sniffs and looks around for any food being carried trying to guess what's for breakfast. He was hungry, but he just had to ask about the dragon first.
Ines Mayweather stands about 5'4 with Sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. She dresses simply, almost always in her armor - reddish leather with the Unsleeping Eye stamped into the chest. She is kind to all she meets and as a true caretaker, will not hesitate to lend a hand. However, growing up in the temple has given Ines a black and white view of the ideals of the world. Tradition is the guiding force of Ines's life. She left the temple to go out in the world and do Helm's work.
Ines had been traveling for several days from Silverymoon when she arrived in Phandalin from the North with a small band of traders. The traders headed to Lionshield Coster in the southern reaches of town while showing Ines the local inn. With a wave of good-bye to the traders, Ines went inside. The talk of dragons catches her ears and she walks over to the elf and human. "Good day, gentleman. I would also like to hear news of this dragon."
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Having been drawn to Phandalin himself on rumours of what might be driving the orc's so far from their mountain home, he too is breakfasting early at the Inn, quietly sitting near the hearth contemplating the meal before him. As the elf makes his way down the stairs, Conendyl takes note of him casually, sizing him up as a potential threat as he would anyone he met in the wilds. As the elf settles himself at the bar and addresses Toblen his attention is drawn immediately to the conversation, responding to the question about rumours abruptly "Rumours eh, well something has put the fear of the abyss into those damn mountain orcs, seen too many of em to count, and put a good many to rest, but they are like rats fleeing from a hungry cat, swarmed right through me village, lucky I was out roving or it'd have been a massacre. Whatever got em so riled up has gotta be real mean indeed". With that, Conendyl stands and makes his way over to where Toblen and the elf are, his remaining breakfast in hand and sits not waiting to be asked "Me names's Conendyl, I be wanting to hear about the goings on about, don't let me stop ye talking".
From his bearing, clothes and smell, it is obvious that Conen is more accustomed to rough life in the wilds than the relative refinement of town life. His cloak is muddied and rough hewn, clearly made for function than form, under which is a supple coat of leather armor, with twin shortswords nestled on either hip. His is lean but not overly muscled, clearly built for life in the forests at the foothills of the mountain range he used to call home. His long brown hair is pulled back into a pony tail, and his tanned face and calculating blue eyes give further evidence of his outlander ways. What might be mistaken for poor manners or even rude behaviour may just be a result of his nature, do what you need to do to survive what the world throws at you, leaving him inclined to pursue his own agenda first and foremost, a trait that may not be that well received at first.
"Bubbles the Barbarian" (Locathah - Lvl 9) - Locathah Rising; Shai'ere Delatete (Githyanki Monk - Lvl 9) Rrakkma (deceased - MindFlayer); Saros Rockfoot (Deep Gnome Diviner - Lvl 5) - The Lost Kenku & One Grung Above; Tagret (Goliath Barbarian - Lvl 2) - Tales of Faerun;
Ervalin looks at the two newcomers quickly, careful not to stare "Well met! I am Ervalin Lathalas of Myth Drannor." He smiles at Toblen "I think this proves my point. What can you tell us, Toblen?"
"Lafayette! You ready!?" Toblen shouts to the back towards the kitchen
"Yeah now, you know I'm always ready babeh!" You hear a deep feminine male voice call back
Toblen nods and smiles "So, lets start with an order of food and you can get filled up a'for you go."
He listens to each of your orders attentively, takes it to Lafayette, and comes back.
"Alright." He takes a breath in, puts his hands on the bar, and prepares himself.
"Some say there is a dragon. They say the reason the orcs have been causing so much trouble is because they themselves have been displaced by a white. "
"I know, I know, you may have your reason too for trying to take this thing on, but I warn you. Others have come through here trying to prove themselves by taking on a dragon. I haven't seen any of them come back though. We have found some of them frozen and missing some of their gear."
He looks around at those in the tabled eating area, including those who had not introduced themselves. Taking note of the lack of shoes and subtle gamy odor from another.
"Maybe you folk start small and work your way up, eh? The people around here are goodly folk and usually have some kind of problem that would be almost mundane for you, but it still pays. Most people go to the Townmaster when they have an issue and he in turn creates jobs for adventuerin' types like yourselves. Those Jobs can be found on the job board outside of the Townmaster's hall, which is the large building south east of the Shrine of Luck. If you have any questions about any of the other shops in town, I'll take em and give you the best I know. The food should'nt be much longer now"
(He seem genuine in his wanting to help you guys as much as possible)
After a few minutes a tall bald, well built, darkskined man in a du ragg and Kimono comes out with all of your orders and serves them with a smile.
Tobeln covers his face and sighs, thanking the gods Lafayette wasn't too much today. This was modest.
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
Realizing orders are being taken, Ines quickly blurts out hers as well with a quick and flustered "Thanks!" She listens to Tobeln, nodding as he speaks. When Lafayette brings out their food her eyes widen slightly, never having seen someone dressed quite like him. "Oh, that's a pretty robe," she blurts starting to reach out to touch the cloth then stopped. Realizing she might not be giving the best image of capability. She sets her hands on the bar and clears her throat. "Uhm, I'm Ines Mayweather, and I am here to help however I can."
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Upon hearing Toblen state that indeed it is thought that a dragon is behind the orc's demise his veneer of self-assuredness breaks for a moment and those that are quick enough will see the realisation that he is ill prepared for such an undertaking and replies "I can't argue with that Torblen, orcs are one thing but dragons...." he trails off for a moment before turning to Ines, sizing the cleric up "Help you say...I'd say I need it for sure....although you're gonna get those fancy robes dirty heading into the wilds...you sure you're up to it?". "And you, elf, well met, don't know where or what Myth Drannor might be, but you seem a bit more at home with hardship" at which point he scratches his chin in thought for a moment "You know, I don't fancy ending up as a dragons dessert any time soon, but a chance to find some critters, specially orcs if they're out there, and get paid, that's what I call a good day." and with that statement he falls quiet, returning to eating what was left of the breakfast he started earlier, happy to take in another serve if offerred.
"Bubbles the Barbarian" (Locathah - Lvl 9) - Locathah Rising; Shai'ere Delatete (Githyanki Monk - Lvl 9) Rrakkma (deceased - MindFlayer); Saros Rockfoot (Deep Gnome Diviner - Lvl 5) - The Lost Kenku & One Grung Above; Tagret (Goliath Barbarian - Lvl 2) - Tales of Faerun;
Ervalin stops eating when his name is mentioned realizing he was, very uncharacteristically, stuffing his face. Too long on the road without proper food...
"Yes, well, I do intend to see this dragon or at least his hoard, but Toblen is right. We should make sure we are well equipped. I'd be delighted to share the road with you. So far I found the Sword Coast do be a bit unfriendly towards the lone traveler. There could be others who would like to join us, too.", he adds in a slightly raised voice, looking around the room.
(I'm going to wait a bit before posting for the rest of they day. Feel free to RP a bit with each other until we have all 6)
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
(I've been waiting for the others too, but will rp some)
Ines finishes her meal, looking at Conendyl. " I am here to help those who can not help themselves. I'm a cleric of Helm. It is my purpose, as it is all good folks who have the strength to do so. A little dirt is of no consequence."
You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
Grimadim
Entering the town of Phandalin was a daunting thing for the lumbering goliath. The hunters he had been with for the last few days had treated him as an equal. His bow and knife skills talking louder than his immense size. But the town's people were different. They stared at him with cranes necks. Perhaps they had never seen one of his kind. Perhaps, dressed in his piecemeal armour and animal furs he looked more like a barbarian than a man of the land. Perhaps it was the tattoos on his exposed forearms and face that made him look like stone and not flesh.
Feeling self conscious he opens the door to the Inn and enters without fuss. His bulking 7ft frame filling the doorway, so much so that he ducks as entering. Scanning the room he spots a seat at the bar. Quietly he heads there and orders breakfast. He apologizes to the group already gathered there for interrupting the conversation. An interesting conversation at that. He sits quietly, eating and listening.
Taraven came to Phandalin this morning after hearing rumors regarding the white dragon. Famished from her journey, she goes into the Stonehill Inn and find a seat at the bar near a group that is having a conversation with the barkeep. She is eavesdropping in hopes of finding out more information about the white dragon. Seated next to the group is a blue tiefling with black hair pulled back into a braid and red eyes. She is wearing common clothes to "blend in" but doesn't really work since she is a tiefling.
When there was mention in the group that intending to head into the wild and possibly see the dragon, this intrigues Taraven and she wants in. So blurts out to the group, "I once knew this guy who was a sorcerer and he said his magic comes from white dragon blood in his blood...or was it that his ancestors made a deal with a white dragon for magic powers that involved an exchange in blood....Anyway, can I join you on your journey? Oh my name is Taraven Khalclaw by the way." Taraven can definitely be awkward.
OOC: So it seems that Jonah is the only one yet to post...there has been plenty of time to wait so I am assuming that he will have to find another way to be introduced.
IC: Conen's eyes widen as he sees the giant of a man struggling to get through the door, hand instinctively going to he sword, but relaxing when sees the furs and bearing that mark the big man as hailing from the wilds and someone that he understands much more than the others crowding around. He nods to the man "Well met brother - it's good to come across a normal soul" he says, glances quickly at the weird array of foreigners that seem to have no good reason to be here "Meself's from the edge of the forests under the range, never heard of any giant outlanders near there, you must be aways from home? Can't wait to see the back of.....civilisation....Torblen here" he gestures to the innkeep "has said there be coin to be had from doing what these villagers can't do for 'emselves. Gonna find me the Townmaster and see what's what, see if there be any orcs causin' trouble. These folk seem determined to venture into the wilds, so mayhaps you & I can keep them from gettin' themselves killed out there." and to the others he continues "When you fancy folk are all done eating and such, grab yer gear and come to meet the Townmaster, the day is a wasting" and with that he pulls out enough silver to settle his bill and heads upstairs to collect his pack and crossbow before returning downstairs some 10 minutes later to see whether any of the group has decided accompany him beofre heading out the door and toward the Townmasters building, to the south and east of the shrine.
"Bubbles the Barbarian" (Locathah - Lvl 9) - Locathah Rising; Shai'ere Delatete (Githyanki Monk - Lvl 9) Rrakkma (deceased - MindFlayer); Saros Rockfoot (Deep Gnome Diviner - Lvl 5) - The Lost Kenku & One Grung Above; Tagret (Goliath Barbarian - Lvl 2) - Tales of Faerun;
(The last player can come in at another point so we can continue)
Torblen smiles, and presents a to go satchel of food for the goliath. Then accepts the coin, 2 silver. He sets them on the bar, looks around, and taps the two silver to indicate expecting the same from the others.
"May Tymora smile upon you all." He says as a goodbye
Drow enthusiast
Lover of lore and magic.
-The White Crow-
Tareven will gather her things and put 2 silver on the bar. "Thank you, Torblen!...I'm ready when everyone else is."