Welcome to the Free Northlands, brave heros. May your courage hold true and your adventures become the stuff of legend!

A disparate collection of wanderers and aspirant heros answer the call of a local lord who seeks solutions to mortal perils endangering his city. Arriving with varied hopes and motives, the adventurers have heard tales of a goblinoid horde menacing the region and a mysterious illness decimating the city's populace, but their first challenge will be to figure out who to trust and, if possible, establish bonds amongst them that will see them through the trials ahead. 

The Free Northlands is, for the most part, a realm of strong and independant city states, with the only civilised Kingdoms of note being that of Rammash (a benevolent mixed race kingdom ruled by a mysterious sorceress and holy paladin orders) and the Elvish Kingdom of the Greendeep (ruled by Highlord Thelsamorr from the magical forest city of Evenstar). From the merciless merchantile city of Tol'Barat, to the growing river port city of Silverpoint, to the adventurer-ruled mercenary city of Vigilance, and many others besides, this is a realm of strong swords and mighty spells... but also a land of perilous dangers.

Towering monster infested mountains line the Northern regions - from the orc and goblinoid hordes infesting the Range of Fang, to the giant lizards, drakes, wyverns and dragons of the Dragonmaws, to the giants and strange elemental entities of the Titansfall Mts. The central and Southern reaches are easier on the eye, dominated by fertile plains, rolling hills and lush forests, but these lands are no less dangerous to the unwary and the univited. Militant bugbear companies, tribes of savage barbarians and nomadic herds of aggresive centaurs call these places home. And that's leaving out the largely isolationist elves of the south. Industry obsessed dwarves and merchants delerious with gold fever hold sway over a smokey ashen Eastern province, while few actually know what fell beasts roam the menacing mists of the Lowlands of Despair... for few ever return from within. Perhaps the most dread region of all dominates the Western lands - the deathly great swamp known as the Meremarsh, and at its centre, the timeless necropolis called Varakmord. Here the dead and the undead hold sway, with few living souls ever finding sane reason to risk the perils of such an inhospitable and uninviting place.

To be sure, more benign places exist here also. The grasslands and hillocks to the Northwest are aptly known as the Verdant Reach. Many towns of honest, hard-working folk are to be found here, people who work the land and are quick to band together and offer aid, even to strangers. Monastaries of austere monk orders are also to be found in the foothills and valleys of this realm, and communities of friendly halflings and ever meddling gnomes can also be found... if one knows where and how to look. Prosperous human settlements exist here too, smaller in stature and might than the great city states, but no less industrious and promising in opportunity... especially, perhaps, to up-and-coming adventurers.

It is in one such place that this band of seemingly mismatched adventurers find themselves on the eve of what could be (should any survive long enough) the road to great riches, power and glory. The small lakeside city of Estermont, led by the much loved family of the same name, is a haven for fisherfolk, farmers and traders - a seeming paradise for hardworking honest folk. Recent goblinoid raids down the Saphire River and the rise of a mysterious and deadly malaise however have seen a call go out to brave adventurers near and far. Estermont gold is known to be plentiful and their words true, so many have come, including dwarves from the nearby mining settlement of Gemron, warriors from the templekeep of Risenguard, mercs from the nearby citadel of Efdramost, and others of less certain nature and origins. The Eastermont Manor has opened its halls to those who have headed the noble family's call. Warm hearths and free food are not easily turned down by those used to a much harsher road.

Of course, promises of gold and an influx of strangers provide much opportunity for those of questionable (or no) morals, and so the local underworld has recently also began to grow in size and influence, hustling beneath the towns surface and making its own shadowy arrangements...

[OOG] The story picks up with the adventurers having successfully returned from an expedition to free their patron's saphire mine from goblin invaders. The protagonists are enjoying some much needed relaxation at the Frost Fall Festival in the city of Estermont. The heros of this story are Carvar (black dragonborn cleric), Dimitri (shield dwarf druid), Eidon (tiefling artificer), Kaelin (human ranger), Pieter (human barbarian), Praiya (half-elf sorceress) and Retra (gnome rogue). The PCs have recently just hit level 4.

As noon passes, the crowds gathered on the general thoroughfares throughout Estermont seem to be thinning somewhat as parents take their children home for lunch after a busy morning taking in the festivities around city. Where before almost every street was clogged with traffic, now most people on the street seem to be gathering in various 'hot spots'. Roars of bloodllust, tragedy and triumph ring out from the Arena, while the crowds of sellers and buyers, peddlers and performers, in the colourfully mantled Hawker's Square remain largely undiminished. Bells ring out from temples across the city, as the various clergy summon their faithful for their 1st Winter services. The stamping of horses hooves and shattering lances carries from the Temple of Steel Songs, while the emblem of Estermont, formed of blue and silver clouds, hangs above the House of the Lady's Favour. A smattering of snowflakes blow across the cities rooftops, carried by a fresh breeze that promises colder days ahead.

Eidon, having finished crafting the platinum rings in his workshop, leaves the Estermont Estate and makes his way to the Emerald Case, noticing the thickening crowd as he approaches the prestigious store front. Nudging his way through the crowd (some of whom move aside for the Tiefling, out of respect or concern, he can't be sure), Eidon finds himself before an newly fashioned raised platform, covered in purple velvet, adorned with glowing sigils and surrounded by a low bluish mist, that seems to emnate from beneath the platform. On top of platform is a large glass case, cylindrical and full of what appear to be small slips of coloured parchment. At one end of the cylinder an attached brass tube protrudes. Standing to one side of the case is the familiar figure of Vari Sillett. The old half-elf is smiling at the assembled crowd, particularly the children who're running amidst the smoke with glee.

Praiya and Pieter approach from the side, both glancing apprehensively at a squad of guardsman standing nearby. The guards take no notice and the sorceress and barbarian greet Eidon, relief evident upon their faces. Vari calls out in greeting, his voice magically amplified, explaining that the Frost Fall Festival Draw is about to commence. He takes a moment to thank the nobles and other notables of the city who've sponsored the draw, making it possible. Vari taps the case with a birchwood wand 12 times, and each time the pieces of paper in the cylinder are thrown about as though in a miniature hurricane, before a single piece of paper flutters out the tube into the wizards hand. Calling out the names on each winning ticket, people come forward in glee to collect various potions, scrolls, wands and magical trinkets. Praiya's face falls further and further as each name is called... until the very last name is called - HER name. As she rushes up to the stage to collect her prize, Vari reaches down and lifts up a small clay pot, which he hands to the young sorcerress. She smiles, but can't seem to hide a look of puzzlement and mild dissapointment.

As the glass cylinder is carried away, Vari announces that the Case will slash 10% of item prices, until midnight tonight only. As the draw comes to a close, a number of young spell casters appear, dressed as caricatures of arcane might, each performing minor magics for the entertainment of the crowd - here a dark cloaked tiefling sorcerrer juggling gouts of coloured flame, there a gold cloaked conjurer summoning celestial falcons and bunnies and yonder a diviner 'guessing' peoples names, birthdates and favourite colours.

Across the city, Carvar sits on a carved wooden grandstand amidst a better dressed crowd of minor nobles and wealthy merchants, watching as two knights thunder towards each other atop armoured warhorses, lances leveled, before... 'CRASH' one is dismounted and dumped unceremoniously to the hard ground, whle the other rider pivots his horse, weapon raised in triumph, to the adulation of those gathered. Seven more jousts take place, before the victorious four face off against each other, eventually leaving only two knights to contest for the prize - a purse of 1,000 gold and a redwood and rosegold shield, engraved with the names of yester-year's victors. The eventual champion is black armoured figure in full-plate, his spiked armour chased in mithril, with a cloak of silver mail falling from his shoulders. His sigil, embossed on his own shield, is an angelic warrior, wings unfurled, flaming sword raised on high. The figure dismounts, bows to the master of ceremonies and a human nobleman (introduced as Lord Canter) who is dressed in ceremonial platemail, then collects his prize gratefully. Murmurs amongst the crowd speak to the gathered citizens consternation and lack of pleasure with this particular triumph for some reason.

As platters of food and pitchers of ale are distributed, the master of ceremonies announces the mid-day festivities done, calling those who wish to battle in the Grand Melee back to the field two hours before sunset. As the dragonborn is about to depart, somewhat dissapointed in the pagentry of the whole affair, and tall red-haired and red-mailed woman steps towards him from the temple's entryway and says "Greetings warrior of Tempus. I am Firstblade Vinsentra. Welcome to the Temple of Steel Songs. Be not perturbed by the show out there on Paramount Way. The Lady of Strategy sees value in noble pursuits, it is true, but no more so than that of a strategic victory earned without flourish. What matters is the elevation of battle and the pursuit of victory to more than base rage and obsession. Come... I have been expecting you for some time."

The Firstblade leads the puzzled cleric inside the temple, the sound of the festivities and other distractions fading away as they stride across the temple's alternating black and white marbled square floor.

Amidst the trees of the Lyricwood, Kaelin sits on a the branch of an adult Elm tree, Larry perched next to her, lazilly scratching himself as the two of them look out on the Festivities in this part of the city. Below, the campfires of the Fanadlies, those ever merry halfling wanderers, are already burning, while small clumps of the colourfully dressed smallfollk are beginning to gather, mugs of ale, corncobs or makeshift musical instruments in hand. Matron Sienna seems to be dispersing odd trinkets amongst the other members of her family - the ranger sees especially small children popping small containers of coloured paper and glitter, while adults throw miniature exploding packages at each other in jest, noisy but apparently harmless.

Looking beyond the halfling's clearing, the Northwoman notes the lines of people dressed in costumes of all description entering the flag and banner adorned amphitheatre known as the Theatre of Dreams. Atop the outer walls of the theatre, circling the perimeter of the large structure high above the ground is a rotating ring of phantasmal creatures, a line of fantastical translucent monsters, each chasing the one in front of it. Kaelin sees a gold dragon, a pegasi, a griffon, a manticore, a phoenix. From within the top of the open amphitheatre, the ranger can hear lines of drama, magically amplified, sometimes ameteurishly, sometimes expertly, delivered.

Glancing back down at the halfling camp, Kaelin notices Sienna approaching her and Larry's tree. The diminutive matron is holding a mug of ale and a corncob in hand, and smiles up at the odd pair on the branch above her, before calling out in invitation, "We'll be starting The Sharing soon, an old Fandalie tradition of story swapping that goes back two centuries. We... no, 'I' would very much like it if you came and joined us. Larry too, of course. We've no great contests or prizes to give out, but the food and drink. and the company is lively and genuine. What say you?"

As the festivities of the city continue without, inside The Notched Sword the party has well and truly kicked into overdrive. There is standing room only, with empty stools and seats being snatched up almost sooner than they've been vacated. In the pit, a strange wrestling match is taking place between a Goliath and an armoured bear. On the bar, a dwarf and a half-orc are straining against each other, locked in a fiercely contested armwrestling competition, while at an adjacent table a brutal game of Smashhand is taking place, currently being won by a large bald human covered in tatoos and piercings. Gambling in all forms is taking place on tables all across the inn, though not surprisingly, the greatest groans and cheers seem to be coming from the goblin Lisp's table. A jovial multi-instrumental tune is playing from the stage, where a single robed halflling appears to be using a wand to conduct either an invisible band of muscians or an assembly of floating instruments. Amongst the chaos of the festivities, it is impossible to tell which.

Retra and Dimitri have been carousing the tables, winning a little, losing a little, drinking a LOT, when Dimitri spots Vuna, the overseer from the Temporary Quarter. The brawny woman has another more lithe woman in an embrace, and is clearly in full celebratory mode. Going to speak with her, Dimitri is told that the city's damaged North-East wall is now fully repaired and that her crews are now working on sections of damaged buildings in Shelter Streets... "soon that dump will shine just as brightly as anyother ward of the city" she assures Dimitri. The bulging purse at her belt may indicate that she has recieved something of a bonus for achieving these developments.

Whilst the dwarven druid is off speaking to Vuna, Retra is spun around into the forced embrace of a tall lanky human man dressed in brown and grey studded leather. It is only after being crushed in hug and then rudely thrust back out to arms reach that the gnome can see who has grabbed her... a very old acquaintance. Here stands Rin, member of the Blood Axes, second only in youth to Retra herself. The years seem to have taken a toll on Rin though, as there are crows feet in the corners of his dark eyes, scars showing across his cheeks and throat and a patch work growth of hair across his jaw, as though parts of a fledgling beard may have been burned away. Smiling a harder, colder smile than Retra remembered him having, Rin leans in, his breath stinking of meat and rum, saying "THERE you are, Retra! We've been looking all over for you. Did that old wharf rat Jered not tell ya? Hasketh is getting the old crew back together, ALL of the old crew back together. We've got a special job on the horizon and you my fine little gnomish friend are a part of the plan for that job... a plan that will make you, me and all the rest of us RICH beyond your wildest dreams." Beyond Rin, the rogues sees a table of similarly clad mercenaries, all drinking while they pretend to NOT be watching the exchange between the two of you.

"im going to the temple of the red knight Eidon, meet ya later on."

Carvar head to the temple.

Roll for awesomeness:14

TINKERING RULES

Praiya turns to Eidon holding her clay pot to her chest and says,

"When Pieter and i were taking a... walk, we passed a store filled with books. I'm planning to go their myself and see what they have, would you like to join me?"

"why thank you for the invite Praiya, but i have other matters to attend to right now, but during these 10 days i may find time, thank you for the intrege in knowledge, but ill be off now, enjoy your self"

*Eidon imbarks for smokehammers TO BUILD STUFF WOOOO

Looking to clear out a nest of slavers for an acquaintence of theirs, we pick the story up inside an old warehouse against Estermont's Northern wall in the city's poor Temporary Quarter, most of the heros having just slain a room full of slaver thugs, though the group was missing one grizzled bear-like dwarven druid and its ever-energetic gnomish rogue...

'The noise from the brief but frantic battle subsumes into a tense quiet, broken only by your laboured breathing and the odd groan from wounds sustained in the fight. The late afternoon light outside, visible through the room's shattered door, is fast fading into dusk, but apart from the odd distant clatter of wagon wheels, few sounds from without carry into the warehouse. It would appear that the bloodbath within this room has gone unnoticed for the most part by the ever bustling city outside... but then, you all catch the sound of hurried footfalls drawing near to the warehouse's entrance.'

[OOC] The imgur link to the image below

https://imgur.com/MSOgmaF

“I hear footsteps outside, everyone prepare for what’s coming”

Praiya crouches down and carefully try’s to see if anyone’s out there.

[OOC] Pecreption please 

i run up to the door and roll stealth. 21

once i'm at the door i'm also going to roll perception to see if theres any bad guys inside. 11

i follow behind retra, with a produce flame in my hand

stealth: 3

Quote from Saffinator >>

i run up to the door and roll stealth. 13

once i'm at the door i'm also going to roll perception to see if theres any bad guys inside. 19

 
'As Retra runs up to the doorway and Dimitri follows behind, you notice that that door itself has been smashed in half. Beyond the door way, you make out some smashed furniture and the tangled bodies of a number of thugish looking men and women. It is apparent that a battle has taken place here recently. Catching sight of a familar long red coat, you glance in carefully to catch sight of the rest of your party. The majority of the Table Turners looked winded and wounded - chests heaving, brows sweaty and weapons bloodied.''

i rush over to our friends to see if their ok. 

"what happened to you guys! you dont happen to know any healing magic do you dimitri?"

Praiya looks around and smiles when she see’s Dimitri and Retra. 

“We heard news about slavers from Bran and that this is their base of operation in Estermont, so we went to check it out and here we are, tired, wounded, some of worse  then others“ Praiya looks at Carvar and Pieter apologetically . “Great of you guys to join us though, we could defiantly use the extra help.”

dimitri looks over towards the group and approaches looking worried.

"youll be alright my friends, we've been through worse. i imagine you could all use some berries"

Dimitri takes out his pouch, revealing 20 goodberries and offers them around the group.

"please, my friends, take as many as you need."

dimitri will also perception to see what he can learn about the area and the fallen enemies. 23

Praiya takes a goodberry. ”Thank you Dimitri, much appreciated.” Praiya quickly eats her good berry. “The others could use them more though.”

"dimitri give me a couple and ill go see if i can get them to eat it." 

i say walking over to dimitri to get some goodberries.

dimitri walks up to the rest of the group, and if anyone is unconscious he force feeds them berries. 

'Looking around at his comrades, it is clear that Praiya and Pieter have suffered grevious wounds. Both are very grateful for the healing berries, which seems to revitalise the sorceress, though the volatile druid appears to be still struggling. It is hard to tell the state of the ever-stoic Carvar, who seems to be especially disgruntled at the party's current predicament, while Eidon and Kaelin are likewise close-mouthed.

Studying the bodies, Dimitri notices that most are human or half-orc, and all have a small tatoo of a cube-like cage upon their faces, below their left eyes. They were dressed in leather armour and dark long cloaks, and armed with crossbows, shortswords, scimitars, daggers and bucklers. Beyond that, it appears that the bodies have already been looted.'

[OOG] Hey guys. If you all got my invite to the DNDB campaign chat thread, please post there to let me know. And as things stand now, I don't have Kaelin's character sheet or access to Edion's (it's telling me there's something critical missing from it, e.g. race, class, etc.) and Carvars doesn't look up to date (no damage, spells or abilities used).

Dimitri - it's investigation for checking the bodies, but I've just made the score adjustment (14), so all good. Perception is more glancing around or peripheral awareness, while anytime that you can get up close and hands on while you 'search' it's going to be investigation as a general rule.