Snow drifts down from the gray sky overhead, blanketing your surroundings in a cloudy haze. Wind bites your cheeks, the chill punishing your exposed skin. You all stand within the graveyard of Palebank Village — a fishing outpost of Uthodorn and home to several hundred dwarves and elves. But besides the rhythm of waves from the shipyard beyond and the cold wind, the village lies in mournful quiet. The last of the dying sunlight sinks beneath the horizon, casting shadows behind the freshly-dug grave of Urgon Wenth. All you know of the old dwarven explorer's sudden death is that he was afflicted by some mysterious disease or curse — one that turned his body into a statue of ice. The folk of the village have gathered around you, paying their final respects to Urgon's burial.
As your characters attend the funeral, please give us some insight into what they're like. How do they behave at this funeral? What brings them to Palebank Village? And did they know of Urgon Wenth?
Ragnus is deep in thought, his brow furrowed. Although he did not know his great uncle very well, he is saddened by the loss of life. He also feels as if an opportunity was lost by not having known this great explorer better. As the shadows deepen, he casts glances around him to see what kind of creatures his great uncle's life touched.
Elbert pulls his furs close to keep out the biting cold. Even so, he can’t hold back a shiver as he joins the others assembled for the funeral. Like many in Palebank Village, he knew Urgon by his deeds, unlike many he had actually met the dwarf on a few occasions and felt a profound sense of remorse at his passing.
Brix had only arrived in Palebank the earlier that day. He had planned to meet with some of the locals in hopes of securing a new distribution point for his families spirits. It seemed, however, that his plans would be delayed. Apparently a local hero had met with an unexpected and strange end. It seemed everyone from tavern keepers to expedition quarter masters were attending this funeral. As Brix attempted to secure meetings with theses same folk he learned just what had befallen Urgon. So here he was, shivering along side what seemed like the whole village, hoping that his show of empathy might assist him in his ultimate goal. Although he had to admit the odd nature of the death also intrigued him. "Even if the trip is a bust a little mystery might just be what's needed after all these days on the road." the Gnome thinks.
Only yesterday, Taiga had arrived with a caravan from Uthodurn after a week long gruesome travel through the mountains and the tundra. Mind you, she did not mind the harsh and desolate landscape, or the cold that froze the tears on her eyelashes, no, she was quite comfortable with that. No, it was simply horrible to march towards the final resting place of a long time friend, who was taken away from her much too early. She spent the week traveling remembering the good times she had with Urgon. Finally, she sees her friend in a horrendous ice form totally unlike his former joyful self that she remembers and how it stands here patiently waiting to be placed to his final rest into this... uh... solitary hole, and she breaks away in tears turning to the side where she leans on the shoulder of some stranger and continues to sob.
With the quiet reserve of a respectful outlander, Carina Ravenscale watches the proceedings, head bowed and hands clasped in appropriate solemnity. Since arriving in Palebank by ship, she had heard tell of Urgon Wenth's exploration and exploits, listening closely. An intriguing man, though she had not known him. Carina's eyes turn inward momentarily remembering another dwarf. Her own father. She shivers. From the cold, she tells herself.
In truth, Carina's appearance favors the elven blood of her mother's side, with her angular ears and delicate features. Appearing from underneath her flowing red hair, a dull black harmonica hangs around her throat, seeming to drink even the wan light of the snowy day. More to her dwarven father's liking would have been the similarly black warhammer hanging from her belt, seeming far too heavy for her slender frame, as does her scale mail and shield.
But why had Carina's faction sent her here to the frozen edge of the world? As was so often the case, her mission details were vague. Her mind attempts to piece it together. Perhaps to find out just what and where Urgon had been exploring and follow up on it? Had he unearthed some secret from the endless snows? Or to identify what icy disease had felled the otherwise hale dwarf? Perhaps to keep an eye on those who were investigating the same?
She sighs inwardly as the snow comes down. Two eyes, two ears, one mouth, to be used in proportion. Carina has always had trouble with that part, as had her mentor, aunt Lyra Ravenscale, the renowned bard from whom she had inherited the black harmonica. Carina's darkened lips twitch. Like her aunt, deep down, Carina believes she can talk her way out of anything. It takes the funeral of an accomplished and beloved dwarven explorer to keep her quiet.
Footsteps crunch their way through the snow, breaking through the bleak hush of the funeral. An Elven civilian, cloaked in bear fur that is far too bulky for his thin, slender frame, approaches each of the party members quietly. To Ragnus, Elbert, Brix, and Carina, he seems rather purposeful as he picks them out of the gathered mourners. The Dwarven soldier of Urgon's bloodline, the village's beloved hunter, and two intriguing visitors to their lands — magic-users. To these four, the Elven man approaches cautiously, his gloved knuckles pushed together in a manner that's nearly bashful. To each of them he whispers, asking if they'd meet him on the outskirts of the funeral services in a moment.
He approaches Taiga last. Seeing the pain in each tear that rolls down her cheeks sends a pang through his heart, too. Truly, the Dwarven explorer had touched the lives of many around them — as could be seen by the crowd that gathered among the gravestones even as snow landed on their eyelashes. But Taiga, perhaps, was affected most of all. The Earth Genasi had grown up among their Uthodurnian ranks, guided often by the great Urgon Wenth, and the Elven man knew how great a loss this must be for her. It must be especially painful, considering the cause of his death. For who was there to blame when a life was stolen by a sickness nobody knew of? For Taiga, he approaches carefully, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and allowing her to grieve before he asks her to meet the rest of the party.
There, your characters find themselves faced with Elro Aldataur — a weathered elf, retired ranger, and the leader of Palebank Village. He scans the mourning citizens behind you all, looking solemn. "Thank you all for attending Urgon's service," he says finally, his voice gruff but his tone soft and low. "I'm sorry to speak of dark tidings under such circumstances." His gaze lands on Taiga then, before he furrows his brow and addresses the entire group. "But I believe that Palebank Village might be in danger, and I'm hoping that you can help us."
Ragnus takes a step forward, moving into a slight bow while placing a hand on his chest, he addresses Elro "I can't speak for tha others you've gathered, but I've dedicated my life ta helping those in need, I will help ya an' those in this village in anyway that I can. If I can find out more about this strange disease that took my great uncle, so much tha betta"
“What sort of danger do you believe threatens Palebank?” asks Elbert directly, his voice deep and raspy in the stinging cold. “I am no hero, but neither am I a coward. If I can help in any way, you can count me in,” he says with a solemn nod.
"Good sir, I'm quite intrigued by what has transpired here and though I must admit I did not know Urgon, I'm very curious about what caused his demise. It would be my honor to investigate the cause of this affliction. Brix Philbin is the name, purveyor of fine spirits." Brix offers to shake the mans hand as he introduces himself. "May I have the pleasure of knowing the names of my soon to be compatriots?" he casts his eyes about the rest of those gathered. Brix' tone is even and serious.
As the others watch the exchange they see a gnome about 3 ft tall with an outstretched hand. His completion is pitted with acne scars and mottled with dark patches, all scattered across a face excoriated a ruddy red by the harsh wind and cold. He's dressed in the typical fur coat, heavy leggings and hearty boots. On his right hand is a strange looking glove. The backhand side of the glove has a small contraption consisting of two small cylinders separated by a small lever. Two large bandoleers cross his chest. Small vials made from the hollowed out tips of antlers are corked and attached along each bandoleer. Several pouches encircle his waist on a large belt separated by a couple small clay bottles. The hem of a chain mail shirt peeks out from the bottom of his warm coat. Instead of your typical backpack Brix has a wooden box strapped to his back. The capper, if you will, is the red heavy knit wool cap he wears upon his head. Little tufts of curly blond hair poke out from underneath. He looks back at everyone with glassy blue eyes.
Carina's pale green eyes regard Elro Aldataur as he consoles the sobbing Taiga. The leader of Palebank Village? A valuable ally, and seeingly sincere. Urgon Wenth must truly have been accomplished and inspiring to be so beloved of warriors such as this one and common folk alike.
As the others step forward, the dwarf, human and gnome, she does so as well, making a small, respectful bow.
"I am Carina." Carina Ravenscale, far traveler from Rexxentrum, and I am not quite sure yet why I am here... Perhaps to ensure that whatever Urgon was searching for (or found!) does not fall into the wrong hands. Such as those of the Cerberus Assembly. Carina does not say any of this aloud.
She continues quietly: "I too am happy to help Palebank Village in the face of danger. But as my new companions have suggested, to do so, we would benefit from information. Not just regarding the danger, but about Urgon Wenth and what he was seeking during his travels. And who he may have come into contact with." She looks around the snowy village. "May we retire to someplace more private?"
And warmer! Once more, Carina does not say the last bit out loud. How do these people spend their whole lives in this frozen wasteland!
Ragnus turns towards Brix and extends his hand. "Brix is it? I'm Ragnus Moltenmane, Urgon was my great uncle. I appreciate your willingness ta help an' look forward to working with ya."
Brix reciprocates Ragnus' greeting with a bow of the head and a firm shake of the hand. At the mention of a warmer place is put forth a grin slips onto his face. "Perhaps something to help cut the chill and toast old friends!" He slips his arm from the straps supporting the box on his back and sets it gingerly on the ground. Undoing the front latch releases the lid. Once lifted the side and front fall away to reveal a small alchemists kit. Along side the experimental equipment lies a bottle with an ornate label that reads "Philbin Firewater, a fine family spirit". The letters encircle a drawing of a pitcher that appears to be pouring flame from its spout. He sets the bottle aside while he quickly closes the box. Rising he holds the bottle high a prideful smile adorning his grim visage. " A fiery spirit to warm hearts and bellies!"
With heavy steps Taiga slowly joins Elro and the group at some distance to the ceremony. She nods to the elf and glances over the assembled group, then listens to what Elro has to say and replies, "Urgon told me much about you, wise leader of Palebank Village. If you think that I can help to unearth and fight what has befallen Urgon, I am more than willing to help, I feel that it is my duty." She turns to the rest of the group, while not quite successfully attempting to sweep away her tears with the fur lining of her cloak, and politely introduces herself to the kind spirits that Elro had selected for this quest. "I am Taiga, a friend of Urgon... " and she begins to sob, "... was a friend of Urgon. Thank you. Thank you all for helping." She gladly accepts Brix's offer, "To Urgon. And to your kind hearts. And that together we may we break this icy curse," she says before taking a sip, "... or whatever it is," she adds with a cough.
"Uhhg, this burns! Brix Philbin!" now her eyes begin watering for an entirely different reason, "But it is good! It is very good."
Carina accepts the bottle when it is her turn (assuming it is passed around) and raises it to her new companions.
"To a hero fallen, and to we who would walk in his footsteps and keep Palebank safe," she toasts quietly.
Focusing her mind, she stills her throat not to cough as she takes a sip, though her head spins a little. She plays a brief chord on her black harmonica, somber and solemn, yet defiant in the face of the cold and snow.
Elro looks fond as he glances between the members of the party, all kindheartedly accepting his request for their aid. All, perhaps, except for Elbert Skyforest — surprisingly enough. Palebank Village's own gifted hunter, well-known for his Ranger capabilities and whom earned the respect of a fair number of their people — declares he is not a hero. Could it be that he was simply pursuing humbleness amongst the group of strangers? Or does Elbert truly see himself in such a way? Elro ponders as such while he watches your characters greet each other and himself. He accepts Brix's handshake, dips his head respectfully towards the others, and gives Taiga a kind smile, full of understanding.
"Yes, my apologies," the elf speaks once the group has taken sips of the Artificer's drink. "I've no doubt your fine spirit will warm everyone up, but we can discuss matters further indoors. Follow me, please," Elro nods, turning and leading the party towards one of Palebank Village's taverns. Inside the wooden building, a large fireplace casts warmth throughout the room, and the snowfall outside seems muffled and distant. The scent of cooked seafood fills the air alongside that of the burning fire, but the tavern is nearly completely empty of patrons — most still enduring the snow out in the graveyard. To the citizens of the village, the cold was commonplace. But not the sort of icy chill he'd seen from Urgon.
Elro pulls out a seat for himself at a table large enough for the entire group, settling himself down wearily and trying not to let too much sorrow find its way into his expression. He'd known he would have to tell you all about the horror of the situation, but Elro hopes he can manage it. It is more dire than the gathered party likely realizes. "Two months ago," the Elven man begins, resting his arms upon the table. "Urgon returned home after he'd been exploring in Eiselcross for a year. It had only been a few days since his return to the village when he began to be afflicted by... an illness." Elro meets the eyes of Ragnus and Taiga regretfully. "It was nothing we'd ever seen before. Urgon's movements were slowed, and blue markings, like veins, began to cover his body."
The village leader swallows, his throat feeling rough like stone. "Our priests tried every spell of their knowledge to attempt to heal Urgon, but none of it worked. After he battled this sickness for weeks, his body turned to ice." Elro's weathered hands upon the table grasp each other solemnly. "Until yesterday, we'd believed his fate was an isolated incident, perhaps caused by something Urgon had encountered in his travels. But we have another villager... Her name is Tulgi Lutan. She is showing signs of the same illness." Elro meets the eyes of your characters again, the true gravity of the situation written in the way his gentle gaze seemed to plead. "I tried to speak with her about it, but she refused. She told me to let her die in peace. Our entire village needs your help."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Upon entering the tavern, Elbert lowers his hood and gives a nod to the barkeep, signalling that he would have the usual, warm elven wine spiced with cinnamon and cardamom. Sitting at the table he listens intently, “A disease? Or a curse perhaps?” he muses. “No, can’t be or the priests would have cured it easily enough. Any contact between Urgon and Tulgi?”
Elbert tries to recall if any of his recent prey exhibited similar symptoms, unusual slowness, blue markings, or if he had encountered any frozen wildlife during his hunts.
Ragnus listens to Elro intently, attempting to string together these bits of information. Ragnus' countenance grows dire, as he learns about Tulgi. It is not often that he feels helpless, but this is one of those times. He hangs his head and lets out the pent up grief he's been holding back in the form a growl. Looking up at Elro, Ragnus says through a clenched jaw "Be it curse, disease, magic, or worse, I won't be wavering from my offer ta help." Ragnus recovers a bit and his jaw relaxes. "Do ya think Tulgi would speak ta us?" Ragnus remembers the others around him and addresses them, "Anyone else have a plan of attack?"
The moment Elro Aldataur says the word "Eiselcross" is like an electric shock through Carina's body, though she attempts to maintain a poker face.
This is why I am here. Urgon Wenth was searching for... special items. And it sounds as if he found some. Perhaps one too many.
"Eiselcross," she states flatly as she sits down at the table. A place of legends. "Why did Urgon Wenth go there? Surely not just to explore? Do we know what he discovered? I know we are all considering the likelihood that something he unearthed or encountered during his travels is the cause of this... icy sickness. If someone else in the village has the same symptoms, I lean towards it being a disease source that he brought back with him, likely unwittingly. Unless he spent time with Tulgi Lutan? In which case it may be contagious and he became the source..."
Carina pauses. "We can and should check on Tulgi, but we should also investigate Urgon's own home, if that is permissible. Perhaps first."
I agree." adds Brix. "I'd like to speak to this Tulgi. I'd like to do some tests if possible. Perhaps there is an herbal component that will reveal some answers." says Brix as he walks to the bar. He retrieves 6 glasses and returns after sliding the bartender 5 coppers. He pours each person a share before taking his seat.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
**This Space for Rent**
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Snow drifts down from the gray sky overhead, blanketing your surroundings in a cloudy haze. Wind bites your cheeks, the chill punishing your exposed skin. You all stand within the graveyard of Palebank Village — a fishing outpost of Uthodorn and home to several hundred dwarves and elves. But besides the rhythm of waves from the shipyard beyond and the cold wind, the village lies in mournful quiet. The last of the dying sunlight sinks beneath the horizon, casting shadows behind the freshly-dug grave of Urgon Wenth. All you know of the old dwarven explorer's sudden death is that he was afflicted by some mysterious disease or curse — one that turned his body into a statue of ice. The folk of the village have gathered around you, paying their final respects to Urgon's burial.
As your characters attend the funeral, please give us some insight into what they're like. How do they behave at this funeral? What brings them to Palebank Village? And did they know of Urgon Wenth?
Beginner DM & Barbarian
Ragnus is deep in thought, his brow furrowed. Although he did not know his great uncle very well, he is saddened by the loss of life. He also feels as if an opportunity was lost by not having known this great explorer better. As the shadows deepen, he casts glances around him to see what kind of creatures his great uncle's life touched.
Elbert pulls his furs close to keep out the biting cold. Even so, he can’t hold back a shiver as he joins the others assembled for the funeral. Like many in Palebank Village, he knew Urgon by his deeds, unlike many he had actually met the dwarf on a few occasions and felt a profound sense of remorse at his passing.
Brix had only arrived in Palebank the earlier that day. He had planned to meet with some of the locals in hopes of securing a new distribution point for his families spirits. It seemed, however, that his plans would be delayed. Apparently a local hero had met with an unexpected and strange end. It seemed everyone from tavern keepers to expedition quarter masters were attending this funeral. As Brix attempted to secure meetings with theses same folk he learned just what had befallen Urgon. So here he was, shivering along side what seemed like the whole village, hoping that his show of empathy might assist him in his ultimate goal. Although he had to admit the odd nature of the death also intrigued him. "Even if the trip is a bust a little mystery might just be what's needed after all these days on the road." the Gnome thinks.
**This Space for Rent**
Only yesterday, Taiga had arrived with a caravan from Uthodurn after a week long gruesome travel through the mountains and the tundra. Mind you, she did not mind the harsh and desolate landscape, or the cold that froze the tears on her eyelashes, no, she was quite comfortable with that. No, it was simply horrible to march towards the final resting place of a long time friend, who was taken away from her much too early. She spent the week traveling remembering the good times she had with Urgon. Finally, she sees her friend in a horrendous ice form totally unlike his former joyful self that she remembers and how it stands here patiently waiting to be placed to his final rest into this... uh... solitary hole, and she breaks away in tears turning to the side where she leans on the shoulder of some stranger and continues to sob.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
With the quiet reserve of a respectful outlander, Carina Ravenscale watches the proceedings, head bowed and hands clasped in appropriate solemnity. Since arriving in Palebank by ship, she had heard tell of Urgon Wenth's exploration and exploits, listening closely. An intriguing man, though she had not known him. Carina's eyes turn inward momentarily remembering another dwarf. Her own father. She shivers. From the cold, she tells herself.
In truth, Carina's appearance favors the elven blood of her mother's side, with her angular ears and delicate features. Appearing from underneath her flowing red hair, a dull black harmonica hangs around her throat, seeming to drink even the wan light of the snowy day. More to her dwarven father's liking would have been the similarly black warhammer hanging from her belt, seeming far too heavy for her slender frame, as does her scale mail and shield.
But why had Carina's faction sent her here to the frozen edge of the world? As was so often the case, her mission details were vague. Her mind attempts to piece it together. Perhaps to find out just what and where Urgon had been exploring and follow up on it? Had he unearthed some secret from the endless snows? Or to identify what icy disease had felled the otherwise hale dwarf? Perhaps to keep an eye on those who were investigating the same?
She sighs inwardly as the snow comes down. Two eyes, two ears, one mouth, to be used in proportion. Carina has always had trouble with that part, as had her mentor, aunt Lyra Ravenscale, the renowned bard from whom she had inherited the black harmonica. Carina's darkened lips twitch. Like her aunt, deep down, Carina believes she can talk her way out of anything. It takes the funeral of an accomplished and beloved dwarven explorer to keep her quiet.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Footsteps crunch their way through the snow, breaking through the bleak hush of the funeral. An Elven civilian, cloaked in bear fur that is far too bulky for his thin, slender frame, approaches each of the party members quietly. To Ragnus, Elbert, Brix, and Carina, he seems rather purposeful as he picks them out of the gathered mourners. The Dwarven soldier of Urgon's bloodline, the village's beloved hunter, and two intriguing visitors to their lands — magic-users. To these four, the Elven man approaches cautiously, his gloved knuckles pushed together in a manner that's nearly bashful. To each of them he whispers, asking if they'd meet him on the outskirts of the funeral services in a moment.
He approaches Taiga last. Seeing the pain in each tear that rolls down her cheeks sends a pang through his heart, too. Truly, the Dwarven explorer had touched the lives of many around them — as could be seen by the crowd that gathered among the gravestones even as snow landed on their eyelashes. But Taiga, perhaps, was affected most of all. The Earth Genasi had grown up among their Uthodurnian ranks, guided often by the great Urgon Wenth, and the Elven man knew how great a loss this must be for her. It must be especially painful, considering the cause of his death. For who was there to blame when a life was stolen by a sickness nobody knew of? For Taiga, he approaches carefully, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and allowing her to grieve before he asks her to meet the rest of the party.
There, your characters find themselves faced with Elro Aldataur — a weathered elf, retired ranger, and the leader of Palebank Village. He scans the mourning citizens behind you all, looking solemn. "Thank you all for attending Urgon's service," he says finally, his voice gruff but his tone soft and low. "I'm sorry to speak of dark tidings under such circumstances." His gaze lands on Taiga then, before he furrows his brow and addresses the entire group. "But I believe that Palebank Village might be in danger, and I'm hoping that you can help us."
Beginner DM & Barbarian
Ragnus takes a step forward, moving into a slight bow while placing a hand on his chest, he addresses Elro "I can't speak for tha others you've gathered, but I've dedicated my life ta helping those in need, I will help ya an' those in this village in anyway that I can. If I can find out more about this strange disease that took my great uncle, so much tha betta"
“What sort of danger do you believe threatens Palebank?” asks Elbert directly, his voice deep and raspy in the stinging cold. “I am no hero, but neither am I a coward. If I can help in any way, you can count me in,” he says with a solemn nod.
"Good sir, I'm quite intrigued by what has transpired here and though I must admit I did not know Urgon, I'm very curious about what caused his demise. It would be my honor to investigate the cause of this affliction. Brix Philbin is the name, purveyor of fine spirits." Brix offers to shake the mans hand as he introduces himself. "May I have the pleasure of knowing the names of my soon to be compatriots?" he casts his eyes about the rest of those gathered. Brix' tone is even and serious.
As the others watch the exchange they see a gnome about 3 ft tall with an outstretched hand. His completion is pitted with acne scars and mottled with dark patches, all scattered across a face excoriated a ruddy red by the harsh wind and cold. He's dressed in the typical fur coat, heavy leggings and hearty boots. On his right hand is a strange looking glove. The backhand side of the glove has a small contraption consisting of two small cylinders separated by a small lever. Two large bandoleers cross his chest. Small vials made from the hollowed out tips of antlers are corked and attached along each bandoleer. Several pouches encircle his waist on a large belt separated by a couple small clay bottles. The hem of a chain mail shirt peeks out from the bottom of his warm coat. Instead of your typical backpack Brix has a wooden box strapped to his back. The capper, if you will, is the red heavy knit wool cap he wears upon his head. Little tufts of curly blond hair poke out from underneath. He looks back at everyone with glassy blue eyes.
**This Space for Rent**
Carina's pale green eyes regard Elro Aldataur as he consoles the sobbing Taiga. The leader of Palebank Village? A valuable ally, and seeingly sincere. Urgon Wenth must truly have been accomplished and inspiring to be so beloved of warriors such as this one and common folk alike.
As the others step forward, the dwarf, human and gnome, she does so as well, making a small, respectful bow.
"I am Carina." Carina Ravenscale, far traveler from Rexxentrum, and I am not quite sure yet why I am here... Perhaps to ensure that whatever Urgon was searching for (or found!) does not fall into the wrong hands. Such as those of the Cerberus Assembly. Carina does not say any of this aloud.
She continues quietly: "I too am happy to help Palebank Village in the face of danger. But as my new companions have suggested, to do so, we would benefit from information. Not just regarding the danger, but about Urgon Wenth and what he was seeking during his travels. And who he may have come into contact with." She looks around the snowy village. "May we retire to someplace more private?"
And warmer! Once more, Carina does not say the last bit out loud. How do these people spend their whole lives in this frozen wasteland!
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Ragnus turns towards Brix and extends his hand. "Brix is it? I'm Ragnus Moltenmane, Urgon was my great uncle. I appreciate your willingness ta help an' look forward to working with ya."
Brix reciprocates Ragnus' greeting with a bow of the head and a firm shake of the hand. At the mention of a warmer place is put forth a grin slips onto his face. "Perhaps something to help cut the chill and toast old friends!" He slips his arm from the straps supporting the box on his back and sets it gingerly on the ground. Undoing the front latch releases the lid. Once lifted the side and front fall away to reveal a small alchemists kit. Along side the experimental equipment lies a bottle with an ornate label that reads "Philbin Firewater, a fine family spirit". The letters encircle a drawing of a pitcher that appears to be pouring flame from its spout. He sets the bottle aside while he quickly closes the box. Rising he holds the bottle high a prideful smile adorning his grim visage. " A fiery spirit to warm hearts and bellies!"
**This Space for Rent**
With heavy steps Taiga slowly joins Elro and the group at some distance to the ceremony. She nods to the elf and glances over the assembled group, then listens to what Elro has to say and replies, "Urgon told me much about you, wise leader of Palebank Village. If you think that I can help to unearth and fight what has befallen Urgon, I am more than willing to help, I feel that it is my duty." She turns to the rest of the group, while not quite successfully attempting to sweep away her tears with the fur lining of her cloak, and politely introduces herself to the kind spirits that Elro had selected for this quest. "I am Taiga, a friend of Urgon... " and she begins to sob, "... was a friend of Urgon. Thank you. Thank you all for helping." She gladly accepts Brix's offer, "To Urgon. And to your kind hearts. And that together we may we break this icy curse," she says before taking a sip, "... or whatever it is," she adds with a cough.
"Uhhg, this burns! Brix Philbin!" now her eyes begin watering for an entirely different reason, "But it is good! It is very good."
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Carina accepts the bottle when it is her turn (assuming it is passed around) and raises it to her new companions.
"To a hero fallen, and to we who would walk in his footsteps and keep Palebank safe," she toasts quietly.
Focusing her mind, she stills her throat not to cough as she takes a sip, though her head spins a little. She plays a brief chord on her black harmonica, somber and solemn, yet defiant in the face of the cold and snow.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Elro looks fond as he glances between the members of the party, all kindheartedly accepting his request for their aid. All, perhaps, except for Elbert Skyforest — surprisingly enough. Palebank Village's own gifted hunter, well-known for his Ranger capabilities and whom earned the respect of a fair number of their people — declares he is not a hero. Could it be that he was simply pursuing humbleness amongst the group of strangers? Or does Elbert truly see himself in such a way? Elro ponders as such while he watches your characters greet each other and himself. He accepts Brix's handshake, dips his head respectfully towards the others, and gives Taiga a kind smile, full of understanding.
"Yes, my apologies," the elf speaks once the group has taken sips of the Artificer's drink. "I've no doubt your fine spirit will warm everyone up, but we can discuss matters further indoors. Follow me, please," Elro nods, turning and leading the party towards one of Palebank Village's taverns. Inside the wooden building, a large fireplace casts warmth throughout the room, and the snowfall outside seems muffled and distant. The scent of cooked seafood fills the air alongside that of the burning fire, but the tavern is nearly completely empty of patrons — most still enduring the snow out in the graveyard. To the citizens of the village, the cold was commonplace. But not the sort of icy chill he'd seen from Urgon.
Elro pulls out a seat for himself at a table large enough for the entire group, settling himself down wearily and trying not to let too much sorrow find its way into his expression. He'd known he would have to tell you all about the horror of the situation, but Elro hopes he can manage it. It is more dire than the gathered party likely realizes. "Two months ago," the Elven man begins, resting his arms upon the table. "Urgon returned home after he'd been exploring in Eiselcross for a year. It had only been a few days since his return to the village when he began to be afflicted by... an illness." Elro meets the eyes of Ragnus and Taiga regretfully. "It was nothing we'd ever seen before. Urgon's movements were slowed, and blue markings, like veins, began to cover his body."
The village leader swallows, his throat feeling rough like stone. "Our priests tried every spell of their knowledge to attempt to heal Urgon, but none of it worked. After he battled this sickness for weeks, his body turned to ice." Elro's weathered hands upon the table grasp each other solemnly. "Until yesterday, we'd believed his fate was an isolated incident, perhaps caused by something Urgon had encountered in his travels. But we have another villager... Her name is Tulgi Lutan. She is showing signs of the same illness." Elro meets the eyes of your characters again, the true gravity of the situation written in the way his gentle gaze seemed to plead. "I tried to speak with her about it, but she refused. She told me to let her die in peace. Our entire village needs your help."
Beginner DM & Barbarian
Upon entering the tavern, Elbert lowers his hood and gives a nod to the barkeep, signalling that he would have the usual, warm elven wine spiced with cinnamon and cardamom. Sitting at the table he listens intently, “A disease? Or a curse perhaps?” he muses. “No, can’t be or the priests would have cured it easily enough. Any contact between Urgon and Tulgi?”
Elbert tries to recall if any of his recent prey exhibited similar symptoms, unusual slowness, blue markings, or if he had encountered any frozen wildlife during his hunts.
Nature with adv due to Favored Enemy: 12
Ragnus listens to Elro intently, attempting to string together these bits of information. Ragnus' countenance grows dire, as he learns about Tulgi. It is not often that he feels helpless, but this is one of those times. He hangs his head and lets out the pent up grief he's been holding back in the form a growl. Looking up at Elro, Ragnus says through a clenched jaw "Be it curse, disease, magic, or worse, I won't be wavering from my offer ta help." Ragnus recovers a bit and his jaw relaxes. "Do ya think Tulgi would speak ta us?" Ragnus remembers the others around him and addresses them, "Anyone else have a plan of attack?"
The moment Elro Aldataur says the word "Eiselcross" is like an electric shock through Carina's body, though she attempts to maintain a poker face.
This is why I am here. Urgon Wenth was searching for... special items. And it sounds as if he found some. Perhaps one too many.
"Eiselcross," she states flatly as she sits down at the table. A place of legends. "Why did Urgon Wenth go there? Surely not just to explore? Do we know what he discovered? I know we are all considering the likelihood that something he unearthed or encountered during his travels is the cause of this... icy sickness. If someone else in the village has the same symptoms, I lean towards it being a disease source that he brought back with him, likely unwittingly. Unless he spent time with Tulgi Lutan? In which case it may be contagious and he became the source..."
Carina pauses. "We can and should check on Tulgi, but we should also investigate Urgon's own home, if that is permissible. Perhaps first."
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
I agree." adds Brix. "I'd like to speak to this Tulgi. I'd like to do some tests if possible. Perhaps there is an herbal component that will reveal some answers." says Brix as he walks to the bar. He retrieves 6 glasses and returns after sliding the bartender 5 coppers. He pours each person a share before taking his seat.
**This Space for Rent**