"Meet me in Phandalin." Those were the last words you heard from your erstwhile drinking companion turned patron and employer, [Gundren Rockseeker]. The taciturn dwarf hired you and several others to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement Phandalin, a few days south and east of Neverwinter. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers have discovered "something big", and that he'd pay you ten gold crowns each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a warrior escort named [Sildar Hallwinter], claiming he needed to arrive early to "take care of business".
After a few wild nights in Neverwinter, you’ve spent the last couple of days following the High Road south from Neverwinter, and have just recently veered east along the Triboar Trail with a little over a day left before you reach Phandalin. You’ve encountered no trouble so far, but this territory can be dangerous. Bandits and outlaws have been known to lurk along the trail.
This is my first attempt at running a play-by-post Dungeons & Dragons campaign. I've decided to start with Lost Mine of Phandelver, simply because I know it well and can modify bits and pieces here and there to make it more interesting than simply running the adventure as is. After the completion of LMoP, if things are still going strong and the players are want to continue, I would consider keeping the campaign going. Either into a different published campaign or a campaign of my own design in Faerûn.
Interested in playing? Send me a private message with a brief description of your character, including class and race (see spoiler below), as well as a short paragraph about how you met Gundren and were hired by him for this task. I will have a bias towards players that have a good grasp of the English language, as well as proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation. And I would prefer players have solid knowledge of the rules for D&D 5th Edition. If you are selected for the campaign, I will send an invite link to the campaign here on D&D Beyond, provide access to a character sheet and the content I have purchased (Legendary Bundle), and the list of rules for character creation. Anyone that posts in this thread without being selected will automatically be disqualified from participating for failure to follow simple directions.
Important Edit: I work nights and will mostly be active after 6pm eastern and before 10am eastern. It just now occurred to me that I should have probably included that information in my post.
All official sources for races and classes are allowed.
No unearthed arcana except for the revised ranger.
Monstrous races will require an exceptional background.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
An example of a post by a player following a successful perception check...
Killian sat quietly in the back of the wagon. The blinding sun was particularly fierce today. The gloomy weather of the past tenday had finally broken and brought with it the ever present reminder that he didn't belong up here on the surface. Blinking away the afterimage of a line of clouds, the kobold rogue narrowed his gaze towards the line of trees he and his companions were steadily approaching. A glint of reflected sunlight caught his eye and he surreptitiously tugged on Tanwen's sleeve.
"I think I see something in the trees ahead," Killian hissed out the side of his mouth, without turning to look directly at the trees or Tanwen. "Don't let on that we've noticed. Perhaps we can get the drop on them, right before they make their move."
Killian tries to knock an arrow in his shortbow without being noticed. Sleight of Hand:11
Pick a color and stick with it for in character posts.
Speech by your character should be bolded. Internal thoughts italicized.
Keep out of character descriptions of actions, skills used, and rolls inside spoilers.
Refrain from making out of character only posts as much as possible.
DM Story Narration will be done inside a blockquote and italicized.
OOC information provided by the DM will be done in plain text.
An example of a combat post by a player...
Killian shouted in horror as the stirge swarm descended from the twilit sky. He scrambled out the back of the cart, taking a passing shot at the stirge next to Tanwen before diving between the wheels of the cart and taking shelter beneath the sturdy vehicle. "Where in the seven Hells did they come from?!"
Weapon vs Target Attack:11 + 5 = 16 vs AC 10 Damage:5 + 3 = 8 piercing damage Example Extra Damage:6 = 6 piercing damage
An preliminary example of a stat block for an encounter...
Turn Order:
Killian - AC 15, HP 9/9
Tanwen - AC 12, HP 8/8
Stirge 1 - AC 14, HP 2/2
Stirge 2 - AC 14, HP 1/1
Stirge 3 - AC 14, HP 3/4
As a young wood elf, you once traveled with some seasoned adventurers as a torch bearer while they descended into an old crypt to put an end to a necromancer that had desecrated the once holy place and turned the bodies interred there into undead servants and minions. The heroes tore into the hordes of undead, but at a crucial moment in the battle, one of the heroes fell under the onslaught of ghouls, paralyzed and near death. Two of the other adventurers drove the ghouls back, but were hard pressed to tend to their fallen comrade. A glass vial rolled from their hand as the paralysis faded -- a healing potion. The stench of the ghouls pressed upon you. The offal of the torn apart meals of the ghouls filled the air with a fetid stench. The wounds of the dying hero bled darkly on the dirt floor of the crypt.
Schminke needs to make a Wisdom saving throw, DC 12.
Success: Schminke overcame the fear pressing down upon her and stole forward to administer the potion to the dying hero. His return to the fight turned the tide and soon victory was won against the necromancer, however, he did manage to escape the crypt. And although he did escape, the necromancer left behind a small bit of treasure the heroes gave to Schminke as a small token of their thanks for the bravery she showed. Schminke gains a Charm of Restoration (can cast Lesser Restoration, CL 3, three times before the magic is consumed).
Failure: Schminke froze in place, unable to move forward. The dying hero perished and the others were heavily wounded. The necromancer got away with some valuable treasure. The remaining heroes, while distressed over the death of their comrade, did not blame Schminke, but she still can't shake the feeling that she could have done more.
Failure by 5 or More: Schminke fled the crypt, the horror of the scene imprinting on her young mind. The heroes perished and became new servants for the necromancer. Until Schminke faces the source of her fear, she suffers a minor fear of undead and must pass a DC 12 Wisdom save when encountering undead creatures or be frightened for one minute.
Schminke screamed as she fled the crypt, the scene was too much for the young torchbearer. After gathering her wits she mutters, "What did they expect from me..." Suddenly Schminke turned into a sobbing mess as she realised her party had all but perished. The scars from that day would have lasting effects.
One late night at the Northshield Inn of Triboar, you were enjoying a late meal after spending the day assisting folks around town with cleaning up after a small group of ogres and a rotund hill giantess knocked down some buildings along the northern edge of town a couple weeks ago. Fortunately, injuries were minor and it was mostly superficial damage. The giantess and one of the ogres escaped, which put everyone on edge. As you returned to your family's residence, you came upon an aging knight and a few of his retainers in a pitched battle against a small warband of savage orcs, including one wounded ogre. The ogre kept shouting, "GOG SMASH!" with every swing of his greatclub. You decided to lend a hand to the knight and his allies. Despite the booming, "GOG SMASH", you were wholly unprepared for the back swing of the ogres club as it was winding up for another attack. You were sent flying through the air and landed with a heavy thud on the packed dirt and pebbles of the road.
Celeryn needs to make a Constitution saving throw, DC 12.
Success: Celeryn weathers the heavy blow and gains a measure of confidence in battle. He also gains the favor of one [Sir Baric Nylef] and a lead on joining the Order of the Gauntlet. Sir Nylef hands Celeryn a letter of introduction to give to one [Sildar Hallwinter], most often found near Neverwinter. Though Sildar is not a part of the order, his position within the Lord's Alliance grants him some access to contacts with the order.
Failure: Celeryn is knocked out of the fight, winded and wounded, by the heavy weight of the greatclub. Sir Nylef is amused by the bravery of the young half-elf, and offers a word of warning that facing dangerous foes like orcs and ogres should be left to the professionals.
Failure by 5 or More: Celeryn is knocked unconscious and heavily wounded by the ogre's accidental attack. Celeryn suffers a slight, noticeable limp, though it rarely hinders the half-elf physically. When climbing up or down more than twenty feet, Celeryn suffers disadvantage on Athletic checks. A Greater Restoration spell can restore Celeryn's leg and remove the limp.
Saving throw (Constitution) : 17 + 1 = 18 vs DC 12
Oh, Selûne save me, this is surely the end!
Despite sailing limpidly, several feet over an ox-cart, and landing flat on his back in such a manner as might even discomfort a halfling, Celeryn surprised everyone (especially himself) by leaping immediately back to his feet and back into the fray, calling divine blessings upon the brave knight repelling Gog's attack.
His unexpected valour was rewarded in the aftermath by a slick pat on the back by Sir Baric Nylef, who confessed to underestimating the bookish half-elf, and a letter of introduction to a hero of some renown, endorsing him for service with the Order of the Gauntlet. Quite an adventurous turn for a stay-at-home bookworm.
It seemed the moon goddess had ordained much more than just one lucky fall in his path to glory...
After your escape from a brief foray into the Mere of Dead Men, which was a terrible idea -- going into there to look for ingredients for this alchemical concoction you discovered in an old tome you found in an abandoned tinkerer's shop -- you stopped in the recently rebuilt town of Leilon, where Lord Neverember holds sway. The lord recently destroyed the wizard's tower, once called the House of Thalivar, which was known to paralyze those whose gaze dwelled upon it for too long, has begun the process of revitalizing the town. While recuperating at the re-constructed tavern and inn, the Hogsheade, something seemed off about the young men gathered in the commons room that night.
Jhessana needs to make a Perception skill check, DC 12.
Success: Jhessana's keen eye catches a glimpse of a tattoo on the wrist of one of the men and with a quick discerning glance around the room, you discover a number of others bearing the same symbol in various forms, including a silver pendant with two virulent green eyes set in a stylized draconic face. When [Lord Neverember] enters the dining hall for dinner, you shout a word of warning to the lord and his guards, who are able to prepare themselves when the dragon cult members put on leather masks and draw wickedly curved daggers. After the fight is over and the cultists scattered, the lord himself -- after noticing the rare weapon you carry -- gifts you with a tooled leather holster and a pile of broken metal parts. "Perhaps you can make better use of this than it serves me sitting as a curiosity on a shelf." These parts are almost enough to construct a more advanced pistol, a six shot revolver instead of the four shot pepperbox you now carry. It will require five workweeks of downtime and 250 gp to construct, using Tinker's Tools at DC 14.
Failure: Your shout of warning is just in time to prevent total chaos and surprise, but not quick enough to stop the cultists from gaining the upper hand and severely wounding Lord Neverember before additional towns guard arrive and disperse the remaining cultists. One of the cultists turns and glares at you as they flee. The hate in his gaze worries you.
Failure by 5 or More: Your shout of warning about the cultists is too late and one of young men bearing the tattoo of the cult sneers and slices at you with their dagger. You suffer a cruel wound that gets infected and leaves a nasty scar across your cheek. Jhessana is at a disadvantage with Charisma based skill checks, except Intimidation, when interacting with merchants and folk of good standing in major cities and towns. However, the nasty scar provides a measure of intimidation against the rougher sort, providing advantage on those skill checks. The scar can be removed with a Greater Restoration spell.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Just a heads-up, but I've only ever used the dice roller on here, not the formatted stuff you've requested, so I may not get this right the first time...
Skill Check (Perception):10 + 4 = 14 vs DC 12
Okay, yeah, I'm probably going need some help sorting out what exactly I did wrong there... :(
Although it looks like Jhess succeeded on the check, so that's cool! :)
Okay, sorted out now. Thanks, @hoyer1066!
As Jhess settled down to her meal and rest, she couldn't help the nagging feeling that something was off, and glancing around at the various shady figures in the tavern, all bearing the same distinguishing mark, she quickly deduced that trouble was brewing. And once Lord Neverember made his way inside, it became immediately apparent to her what that trouble would be.
"Peril, my Lord!" she quickly shouted in the noble's direction as she rose to her feet and aimed her pistol at the nearest cultist. "To Arms! There is treachery afoot!"
With that warning Lord Neverember and his guards were able to successfully ready themselves even as the assassination plot was barely set in motion, and the ensuing chaos was thankfully brief as they handedly routed the would-be assailants who found themselves without their coveted element of surprise.
Jhessana found herself pleasantly surprised to be approached by Lord Neveremeber himself in the aftermath, as she had heard much of his reputation while growing up in Waterdeep. The fact that he took time to personally thank and reward her for her small part in the action certainly left Jhess with a favorable impression of the man.
During one of your infrequent trips into local towns and villages to trade hides and pelts for needed supplies, you chanced upon a pack of ruffians in grimy red cloaks harassing a youngish halfling woman wearing an alderleaf pin upon her head, holding back a flustered mess of hair. Before you could decide to turn away, watch helplessly, or charge in to assist the halfling, the largest of the thugs kicked the woman into a stack of sacks of grain. The topmost sack slides off as she lays their coughing and lands on her chest. The red-cloaked ruffians wander off to the ale taps Sleeping Giant, laughing and ignoring the plight of their most recent victim.
Bearhans needs to make an Athletics check, DC 12.
Success: Bearhans quickly removes the sack from the halfling woman, who introduces herself as [Qelline Alderleaf] and invites Bearhans, by name, to stay at her farm in the hay loft any time he needs a place to stay and/or a warm meal. The half-orc ranger is introduced to Carp, an adventurous young halfling boy, not even in his teens yet. Between the two of them, Bearhans learns more about the town of Phandalin than he could ever have learned on his own. As he leaves the next morning, Qelline presses a heavy gold coin into his rough hands. The coin is warm to the touch despite the chill spring weather. "Don't spend this one until you're sure you need it," she says cryptically. The coin is an ornate, ancient disc of gold, minted in an earlier time by a long forgotten kingdom. Something has imbued a bit of divine power into the coin. As an action, Bearhans can use the coin to cast Cure Wounds either once at second level (2d8+3 hp healed) or twice at first level (1d8+3 hp healed).
Failure: Bearhans is able to lift the sack of grain from the halfling woman, but not before the weight of the grain breaks a few ribs. She is thankful for the help and offers Bearhans a warm meal when she's recovered from her injuries. Some day.
Failure by 5 or More: The sack of grain proves too much for Bearhans to handle alone. With a loud, hoarse shout for help, the half-orc ranger draws a few others nearby to assist. Qelline has passed out from the strain of trying to breathe underneath the weight and is gravely wounded. Before [Sister Garaele] can arrive, Qelline Alderleaf passes beyond healing, leaving her son, Carp, an orphan.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Skill check (Athletics): 5+3 = 8 vs DC12
The pup ran around the corner into the alleyway, Bearhans hot on it's tail. He scooped it up as the young wolf lost it's footing. "Why do you always want to play? Stop licking me! You're not as cute as you think you know!". As he has this one sided conversation, Bearhans notices a commotion further down the alley. A group of pureblood humans in long red cloaks were pushing a halfling woman between them, each of them at least twice her side. He stood there watching, torn between the situation and the peace, quiet, and anonymity waiting out of the alley. "Um. Hello? Could you please stop". Bearhans started to walk down towards the group. "Lady do you need help?". He glances back at the entrance to the street and the woods showing above the buildings in the distance. "Guys stop pushing the lady! Can you hear me?"
One of the thugs turned around to face him, a malicious smile spread across his face. A moment or two passed as the two looked at each other before the red-cloaked man caught the halfling woman and hurled her into the wall of the alley. Stacks of grain bags fell and slid down on top of her, knocked over by the force of the collision. The thugs left, laughing at their piece of sport. Bearhans rushed forwards, heaving at the mountain of canvas sacks. "Hello? Are you alright? Um, shout if you can hear me?" He managed to pull a few bags off the pile, but for each he removed two more slid down from the stacks.
Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out the wolf pup and placed him on the ground. He stared deeply into her grey eyes. "Go get help! Get people! Go!" He gave her a shove towards the alleyway entrance before returning to the grain sacks. A minute or so later the wolf came bounding back up to him with a trail of towns folk behind her, all with rather frayed trouser legs. "Help me! There's a lady under here!" With the new muscle it did not take long to clear the pile. But it was to late, she was gone. When [Sister Garaele] arrived, she told them that one of the falling bags must half broken her ribs and punctured her lungs. The woman had drowned in her own blood.
As the group grew and the commotion got louder, Bearhans picked up the pup and headed back out the alley. "That's what you get for helping".
"Meet me in Phandalin." Those were the last words you heard from your erstwhile drinking companion turned patron and employer, [Gundren Rockseeker]. The taciturn dwarf hired you and several others to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement Phandalin, a few days south and east of Neverwinter. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers have discovered "something big", and that he'd pay you ten gold crowns each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a warrior escort named [Sildar Hallwinter], claiming he needed to arrive early to "take care of business".
After a few wild nights in Neverwinter, you’ve spent the last couple of days following the High Road south from Neverwinter, and have just recently veered east along the Triboar Trail with a little over a day left before you reach Phandalin. You’ve encountered no trouble so far, but this territory can be dangerous. Bandits and outlaws have been known to lurk along the trail. The dawn breaks in the east, painting the cerulean sky with rose-tinted gold as the shredded remains of last night's thunderstorm are scattered across the sky by a chill wind out of the northwest, bearing a slightly salty tang from the ocean waters of the Sea of Swords out west.
Eager to be done with this last day of travel and to finally reach Phandalin, you break camp and set out along the Triboar Trail. Copses of trees and scrublands blend in with the gently rolling hills of the desolate landscape. A gentle breeze from the west-northwest makes for a dusty day, as the monotonous plodding gait of the coven-hooved oxen kick up dust from the road with each step. The wagon wheels shift in well worn ruts, jolting the wagon with infrequent motions.
Notes:
Any character can drive a wagon, and no particular skill is necessary. Two oxen pull the wagon. If no one is holding the reins, the oxen stop where they are.
The wagon is packed full of an assortment of mining supplies and food. This includes a dozen sacks of flour, several casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, shovels, picks, and crowbars (about a dozen each), and five lanterns with a small barrel of oil (about fifty flasks in volume). The total value of the cargo is 100 gp.
Celeryn nominated himself driver of the wagon once again, partly because he felt a gentle affection for the animals, and partly because he felt a good deal less dangerous than his travelling companions and their bows, arrows, swords, spears, and... whatever that thing was on Jhessana's belt. A gum? Is that what she had called it? No, that can't be right...
"Did you know, Triboar got its name from a traveller's tale of a fellow what killed three boars in a day, all with the same arrow?!" he said, to nobody in particular. The left ox (which did not respond to the name "Torque," which Celeryn had given it) snorted in response, and he took that to be an affirming gasp of surprise. Not that I suppose that's even possible, he mused and nearly said, but thought better of it, given the type he was currently rolling with. He espied a curious glance at Jhessana's boom-stick, eager to see it in action.
As the dawn bloomed into a bright proper morning, he pulled a slender tome from his bag, the "Book of Midnight Prayers" (in Elvish script, of course). One eye always on the road ahead, the other on his book, he embraced the item which was so fundamental to his identity and strengthened the values that he brought to the team - character, and mindfulness, and erudition. Sure, he was no archer, nor much of a fighter, and though he wouldn't let on, he was certainly a little intimidated by the companions Gundren had surrounded him with. But, Sir Baric's letter in his pocket said that he was brave, therefore brave he must be; and so he apologized to the moon goddess for offering her only half his attention (she was hardly visible in the bright blue anyhow), but this time, he would not be caught by bandits unawares, thank you very much.
Sitting in the back of the wagon to make sure the supplies don't jostle around too much, Jhessana spends a fair bit of the morning cleaning the barrel of her weapon. After the sun has fully come up, her head rises with a passing breeze, her expression curious. She wets a finger in her mouth before raising it in the air above her for a moment.
"Well that's odd," she finally says aloud to no one in particular. "The wind seems to be shifting from east to west, and even the easterly wind bears the smell of salt...I wonder what could be causing that..."
Schminke was apprehensive of this land. With only small groups of trees and shrubs littering the landscape she felt a bit exposed. Despite this she tended to follow the cavern off the road so to have a chance to surprise any assailants using what little she had at her expense. There would be time in camp for chit-chat but for now Schminke and the party had a cargo to navigate through possible bandits and outlaws, "and we're so close too," Schminke said to herself.
However, despite her distaste for chit-chat right now she chuckled to herself as Jhessana had shown her the strange, small contraption last night she called a "gun." It'd be most impressive if Jhessana's stories were true of the power in that small device. Perhaps some bandits would be entertaining so she could see the capabilities of the gun.
Out of the trees suddenly burst a flash of dark grey fur, darting towards the oxen. The wolf pup, now larger than most of the mutts that wander the streets of Neverwinter, runs under their legs before skidding to a stop at Bearhans' side. The half-orc reaches down and scratches her ear as she trots along side, his eyes scanning the landscape ahead as he walks in line with the oxen.
”He must have been a very good hunter. I mean that ... Um... to use one arrow is clever. Efficient” he responds to Celeryn.
The wolf leaves his side, giving her head a little shake to correct her ear, and bounces to the back of the cart. She leaps up into the cart and nuzzles into Jhessana before picking her hand as she cleans her gun. Without pausing she clambers over the cargo up to the front, plodding herself down next to Celeryn. She looks up expecting my.
The wagon continues rolling along the road, the plodding steps of the oxen still monotonous. You head mostly east, though the narrow trail has started to wind its way back and forth slightly to the north as the scrub covered hills and woodlands press close. The heat of the noon sun beats down overhead, making for a rather warm day despite being early spring still. The tiny kobold archer in the back of the wagon continues to sleep. His role of night watchmen keeping him awake at night while the others rest. The kobold was an interesting addition to the party, but Gundren swore up and down that he was worth every gold for a good night's rest and not having to stand watch in the cold, dark of night.
The young wolf is the first to catch the fetid, rotten stench of decaying flesh as a swirl of wind shifts out of the east briefly. Just a whiff it is, but it's enough. As you come around a bend, you spot two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of you, blocking the path. Each has several black-feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here, with a steep embankment and dense thickets on either side. It is clear that the saddlebags have been looted, and an empty leather case lies on the ground nearby.
Celeryn spots a flash of movement a top a large boulder, fifty to sixty feet northeast of the wagon as it slows down. You each have one post to make plans for the obvious ambush. Please roll initiative in your post and then we'll start this fight off.
"Well, aren't you clever and handsome!" Celeryn says to the wolf, displacing his book of prayers to reach for a strip of salted beef. Once he produces it, he notices the pup's attention is no longer on him, but is pointed to an obstruction just up the road. Horses - dead ones. He slows the oxen to a cautious halt.
"Mind your moves, and ready your arms," he whispers tersely to Jhessana in the back of the cart, then tries to catch the eye of Bearhans and Schminke. "Something's up on that ridge, to the left, and likely to shoot. I say we shoot first. And by 'we' I mostly mean the rest of you." He hasn't anything better to defend himself than a small knife, but the effective prayer of a righteous person has great power. He steels his nerves for the impending arrow-flight, and begins reciting the incantations to Selûne for a prayer of blessing.
Initiative: 3 + 1 = 4
{I apologize for muddying the dice-rolling mechanics now that we've only just gotten used to them, but once we are in initiative I'm likely to cast Bless - Bearhans, Schminke and Jhessana can all add 1d4 to their attack rolls and saving throws as long as Celeryn concentrates (up to 1 minute)}
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The pup stares down the road, sniffing at the air. All of a sudden she jumps off the wagon and pushes between the half-orcs legs, sitting as he strides stop. Bearhans looks down at the young wolf and then up to where she is looking. His jaw clenches as he locks eyes on the arrows.
"That's a trap alright, the horses are the bait and we're the prey. But how many hunter's, I don't know"
As he talks he picks the she-wolf up, slinging her into the back of the wagon. As she goes to jump back up again Bearhans raise a hand in front of him, palm facing the wolf. She obediently sits, though not very still. He rearranges a few of the crates to provide her some cover.
"I think they don't know the elf is with us, that could help. What do you think miss?" he asks Jhessana.
He reaches down and runs his fingers through the arrows in the quiver at his hip, checking the fletchings aren't bent and the arrows are all loose.
As the wagon slowly lurches to a halt and Celeryn whispers back of danger afoot, Jhessana breathes a sigh of relief and prayer of thanks to the Red Knight that it didn't take her long to finish her routine cleaning and get the pistol reassembled. She quickly loads four of her custom made shots into the cylinder and clicks it shut, then quietly helps Bearhans reposition some of the lighter cargo for the pup. At his question, she thinks for just a moment before giving a terse nod.
"It could help, yes, if she can take advantage of it." Jhessana certainly hopes she can, since they have no idea how many enemies they might be dealing with.
Once that quick word is exchanged, Jhess positions herself up towards the front of the wagon, her pistol at the ready, and tries to use some of the supplies to give herself some cover. Hopefully she can get at least ONE shot off with a measure of surprise.
(If allowed) Skill Check (Stealth):1 + 5 = Unable to parse dice roll. vs DC ?? (Attempting get advantage on her first shot, if possible. If not, at least she's in cover.)
Initiative:13 + 3 = 16
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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The Lost Mine of Phandelver (Prologue)
This is my first attempt at running a play-by-post Dungeons & Dragons campaign. I've decided to start with Lost Mine of Phandelver, simply because I know it well and can modify bits and pieces here and there to make it more interesting than simply running the adventure as is. After the completion of LMoP, if things are still going strong and the players are want to continue, I would consider keeping the campaign going. Either into a different published campaign or a campaign of my own design in Faerûn.
Interested in playing? Send me a private message with a brief description of your character, including class and race (see spoiler below), as well as a short paragraph about how you met Gundren and were hired by him for this task. I will have a bias towards players that have a good grasp of the English language, as well as proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation. And I would prefer players have solid knowledge of the rules for D&D 5th Edition. If you are selected for the campaign, I will send an invite link to the campaign here on D&D Beyond, provide access to a character sheet and the content I have purchased (Legendary Bundle), and the list of rules for character creation. Anyone that posts in this thread without being selected will automatically be disqualified from participating for failure to follow simple directions.
The Wyld Knights of Neverwinter
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An example of a post by a player following a successful perception check...
Killian sat quietly in the back of the wagon. The blinding sun was particularly fierce today. The gloomy weather of the past tenday had finally broken and brought with it the ever present reminder that he didn't belong up here on the surface. Blinking away the afterimage of a line of clouds, the kobold rogue narrowed his gaze towards the line of trees he and his companions were steadily approaching. A glint of reflected sunlight caught his eye and he surreptitiously tugged on Tanwen's sleeve.
"I think I see something in the trees ahead," Killian hissed out the side of his mouth, without turning to look directly at the trees or Tanwen. "Don't let on that we've noticed. Perhaps we can get the drop on them, right before they make their move."
Killian tries to knock an arrow in his shortbow without being noticed.
Sleight of Hand: 11
An example of a combat post by a player...
Killian shouted in horror as the stirge swarm descended from the twilit sky. He scrambled out the back of the cart, taking a passing shot at the stirge next to Tanwen before diving between the wheels of the cart and taking shelter beneath the sturdy vehicle. "Where in the seven Hells did they come from?!"
Weapon vs Target
Attack: 11 + 5 = 16 vs AC 10
Damage: 5 + 3 = 8 piercing damage
Example Extra Damage: 6 = 6 piercing damage
An preliminary example of a stat block for an encounter...
Schminke's Tale:
Schminke needs to make a Wisdom saving throw, DC 12.
Schminke screamed as she fled the crypt, the scene was too much for the young torchbearer. After gathering her wits she mutters, "What did they expect from me..." Suddenly Schminke turned into a sobbing mess as she realised her party had all but perished. The scars from that day would have lasting effects.
Saving Throw (Wisdom): 4 + 2 = 6 vs DC 12
Celeryn's Tale:
Celeryn needs to make a Constitution saving throw, DC 12.
Saving throw (Constitution) : 17 + 1 = 18 vs DC 12
Oh, Selûne save me, this is surely the end!
Despite sailing limpidly, several feet over an ox-cart, and landing flat on his back in such a manner as might even discomfort a halfling, Celeryn surprised everyone (especially himself) by leaping immediately back to his feet and back into the fray, calling divine blessings upon the brave knight repelling Gog's attack.
His unexpected valour was rewarded in the aftermath by a slick pat on the back by Sir Baric Nylef, who confessed to underestimating the bookish half-elf, and a letter of introduction to a hero of some renown, endorsing him for service with the Order of the Gauntlet. Quite an adventurous turn for a stay-at-home bookworm.
It seemed the moon goddess had ordained much more than just one lucky fall in his path to glory...
Jhessana's Tale:
Jhessana needs to make a Perception skill check, DC 12.
Just a heads-up, but I've only ever used the dice roller on here, not the formatted stuff you've requested, so I may not get this right the first time...
Skill Check (Perception): 10 + 4 = 14 vs DC 12
Okay, yeah, I'm probably going need some help sorting out what exactly I did wrong there... :(
Although it looks like Jhess succeeded on the check, so that's cool! :)
Okay, sorted out now. Thanks, @hoyer1066!
As Jhess settled down to her meal and rest, she couldn't help the nagging feeling that something was off, and glancing around at the various shady figures in the tavern, all bearing the same distinguishing mark, she quickly deduced that trouble was brewing. And once Lord Neverember made his way inside, it became immediately apparent to her what that trouble would be.
"Peril, my Lord!" she quickly shouted in the noble's direction as she rose to her feet and aimed her pistol at the nearest cultist. "To Arms! There is treachery afoot!"
With that warning Lord Neverember and his guards were able to successfully ready themselves even as the assassination plot was barely set in motion, and the ensuing chaos was thankfully brief as they handedly routed the would-be assailants who found themselves without their coveted element of surprise.
Jhessana found herself pleasantly surprised to be approached by Lord Neveremeber himself in the aftermath, as she had heard much of his reputation while growing up in Waterdeep. The fact that he took time to personally thank and reward her for her small part in the action certainly left Jhess with a favorable impression of the man.
Bearhans's Tale:
Bearhans needs to make an Athletics check, DC 12.
Skill check (Athletics): 5+3 = 8 vs DC12
The pup ran around the corner into the alleyway, Bearhans hot on it's tail. He scooped it up as the young wolf lost it's footing. "Why do you always want to play? Stop licking me! You're not as cute as you think you know!". As he has this one sided conversation, Bearhans notices a commotion further down the alley. A group of pureblood humans in long red cloaks were pushing a halfling woman between them, each of them at least twice her side. He stood there watching, torn between the situation and the peace, quiet, and anonymity waiting out of the alley. "Um. Hello? Could you please stop". Bearhans started to walk down towards the group. "Lady do you need help?". He glances back at the entrance to the street and the woods showing above the buildings in the distance. "Guys stop pushing the lady! Can you hear me?"
One of the thugs turned around to face him, a malicious smile spread across his face. A moment or two passed as the two looked at each other before the red-cloaked man caught the halfling woman and hurled her into the wall of the alley. Stacks of grain bags fell and slid down on top of her, knocked over by the force of the collision. The thugs left, laughing at their piece of sport. Bearhans rushed forwards, heaving at the mountain of canvas sacks. "Hello? Are you alright? Um, shout if you can hear me?" He managed to pull a few bags off the pile, but for each he removed two more slid down from the stacks.
Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out the wolf pup and placed him on the ground. He stared deeply into her grey eyes. "Go get help! Get people! Go!" He gave her a shove towards the alleyway entrance before returning to the grain sacks. A minute or so later the wolf came bounding back up to him with a trail of towns folk behind her, all with rather frayed trouser legs. "Help me! There's a lady under here!" With the new muscle it did not take long to clear the pile. But it was to late, she was gone. When [Sister Garaele] arrived, she told them that one of the falling bags must half broken her ribs and punctured her lungs. The woman had drowned in her own blood.
As the group grew and the commotion got louder, Bearhans picked up the pup and headed back out the alley. "That's what you get for helping".
Notes:
Celeryn nominated himself driver of the wagon once again, partly because he felt a gentle affection for the animals, and partly because he felt a good deal less dangerous than his travelling companions and their bows, arrows, swords, spears, and... whatever that thing was on Jhessana's belt. A gum? Is that what she had called it? No, that can't be right...
"Did you know, Triboar got its name from a traveller's tale of a fellow what killed three boars in a day, all with the same arrow?!" he said, to nobody in particular. The left ox (which did not respond to the name "Torque," which Celeryn had given it) snorted in response, and he took that to be an affirming gasp of surprise. Not that I suppose that's even possible, he mused and nearly said, but thought better of it, given the type he was currently rolling with. He espied a curious glance at Jhessana's boom-stick, eager to see it in action.
As the dawn bloomed into a bright proper morning, he pulled a slender tome from his bag, the "Book of Midnight Prayers" (in Elvish script, of course). One eye always on the road ahead, the other on his book, he embraced the item which was so fundamental to his identity and strengthened the values that he brought to the team - character, and mindfulness, and erudition. Sure, he was no archer, nor much of a fighter, and though he wouldn't let on, he was certainly a little intimidated by the companions Gundren had surrounded him with. But, Sir Baric's letter in his pocket said that he was brave, therefore brave he must be; and so he apologized to the moon goddess for offering her only half his attention (she was hardly visible in the bright blue anyhow), but this time, he would not be caught by bandits unawares, thank you very much.
Sitting in the back of the wagon to make sure the supplies don't jostle around too much, Jhessana spends a fair bit of the morning cleaning the barrel of her weapon. After the sun has fully come up, her head rises with a passing breeze, her expression curious. She wets a finger in her mouth before raising it in the air above her for a moment.
"Well that's odd," she finally says aloud to no one in particular. "The wind seems to be shifting from east to west, and even the easterly wind bears the smell of salt...I wonder what could be causing that..."
Schminke was apprehensive of this land. With only small groups of trees and shrubs littering the landscape she felt a bit exposed. Despite this she tended to follow the cavern off the road so to have a chance to surprise any assailants using what little she had at her expense. There would be time in camp for chit-chat but for now Schminke and the party had a cargo to navigate through possible bandits and outlaws, "and we're so close too," Schminke said to herself.
However, despite her distaste for chit-chat right now she chuckled to herself as Jhessana had shown her the strange, small contraption last night she called a "gun." It'd be most impressive if Jhessana's stories were true of the power in that small device. Perhaps some bandits would be entertaining so she could see the capabilities of the gun.
Out of the trees suddenly burst a flash of dark grey fur, darting towards the oxen. The wolf pup, now larger than most of the mutts that wander the streets of Neverwinter, runs under their legs before skidding to a stop at Bearhans' side. The half-orc reaches down and scratches her ear as she trots along side, his eyes scanning the landscape ahead as he walks in line with the oxen.
”He must have been a very good hunter. I mean that ... Um... to use one arrow is clever. Efficient” he responds to Celeryn.
The wolf leaves his side, giving her head a little shake to correct her ear, and bounces to the back of the cart. She leaps up into the cart and nuzzles into Jhessana before picking her hand as she cleans her gun. Without pausing she clambers over the cargo up to the front, plodding herself down next to Celeryn. She looks up expecting my.
The Lost Mine of Phandelver ~ Goblin Arrows (Part 1)
Skill Check (Stealth): 5 + 6 = 11
Skill Check (Stealth): 14 + 6 = 20
Skill Check (Stealth): 12 + 6 = 18
Skill Check (Stealth): 19 + 6 = 25
Skill Check (Stealth): 15 + 6 = 21
Skill Check (Stealth): 7 + 6 = 13
Skill Check (Stealth): 19 + 6 = 25
Skill Check (Stealth): 18 + 6 = 24
Skill Check (Stealth): 5 + 6 = 11
Skill Check (Stealth): 8 + 6 = 14
Skill Check (Stealth): 6 + 6 = 12
Skill Check (Stealth): 5 + 6 = 11
Advantage (16, 12, 24, 21, 11, 26) vs Passive Perception 14 (Bear), 17 (Celeryn), 14 (Jhessana),
1611, sleeping (Killian), 14 (Schminke)Celeryn spots a flash of movement a top a large boulder, fifty to sixty feet northeast of the wagon as it slows down. You each have one post to make plans for the obvious ambush. Please roll initiative in your post and then we'll start this fight off.
Killian Initiative: 6 + 3 = 9
Goblin (Initiative): 15 + 2 = 17
Goblin Boss (Initiative): 17 + 2 = 19
"Well, aren't you clever and handsome!" Celeryn says to the wolf, displacing his book of prayers to reach for a strip of salted beef. Once he produces it, he notices the pup's attention is no longer on him, but is pointed to an obstruction just up the road. Horses - dead ones. He slows the oxen to a cautious halt.
"Mind your moves, and ready your arms," he whispers tersely to Jhessana in the back of the cart, then tries to catch the eye of Bearhans and Schminke. "Something's up on that ridge, to the left, and likely to shoot. I say we shoot first. And by 'we' I mostly mean the rest of you." He hasn't anything better to defend himself than a small knife, but the effective prayer of a righteous person has great power. He steels his nerves for the impending arrow-flight, and begins reciting the incantations to Selûne for a prayer of blessing.
Initiative: 3 + 1 = 4
{I apologize for muddying the dice-rolling mechanics now that we've only just gotten used to them, but once we are in initiative I'm likely to cast Bless - Bearhans, Schminke and Jhessana can all add 1d4 to their attack rolls and saving throws as long as Celeryn concentrates (up to 1 minute)}
The pup stares down the road, sniffing at the air. All of a sudden she jumps off the wagon and pushes between the half-orcs legs, sitting as he strides stop. Bearhans looks down at the young wolf and then up to where she is looking. His jaw clenches as he locks eyes on the arrows.
"That's a trap alright, the horses are the bait and we're the prey. But how many hunter's, I don't know"
As he talks he picks the she-wolf up, slinging her into the back of the wagon. As she goes to jump back up again Bearhans raise a hand in front of him, palm facing the wolf. She obediently sits, though not very still. He rearranges a few of the crates to provide her some cover.
"I think they don't know the elf is with us, that could help. What do you think miss?" he asks Jhessana.
He reaches down and runs his fingers through the arrows in the quiver at his hip, checking the fletchings aren't bent and the arrows are all loose.
Initiative: 9 +2 = 11
As the wagon slowly lurches to a halt and Celeryn whispers back of danger afoot, Jhessana breathes a sigh of relief and prayer of thanks to the Red Knight that it didn't take her long to finish her routine cleaning and get the pistol reassembled. She quickly loads four of her custom made shots into the cylinder and clicks it shut, then quietly helps Bearhans reposition some of the lighter cargo for the pup. At his question, she thinks for just a moment before giving a terse nod.
"It could help, yes, if she can take advantage of it." Jhessana certainly hopes she can, since they have no idea how many enemies they might be dealing with.
Once that quick word is exchanged, Jhess positions herself up towards the front of the wagon, her pistol at the ready, and tries to use some of the supplies to give herself some cover. Hopefully she can get at least ONE shot off with a measure of surprise.
(If allowed) Skill Check (Stealth): 1 + 5 = Unable to parse dice roll. vs DC ?? (Attempting get advantage on her first shot, if possible. If not, at least she's in cover.)
Initiative: 13 + 3 = 16