Against the Demon Prince IC

[Obscuraphile]

Prologue:

The Blood Lord sat on his throne of bones and blood-oozing skulls, engulfed in darkness and the putrid stench of death and misery. Cries of pain and anguish played in the background of Orcus’ residence of Undeath. Nothing of this reached the dark lord. His blood-hazed eyes were lost into the distance, his mind stretching out to listen to the calls and prayers of his dark clergy and followers. Like buzzing flies, their requests and calls for favors left no impression on the Demon Price of Undeath – his schemes of power were on a level incomprehensible for his mortal followers. But suddenly his eye twitched, a prayer – no not a prayer – a whispered word that brought back memories of lost causes and unpaid depts. Orcus focused his divine attention towards the source, spanning his godlike awareness cross planes and dimensions.

“…Master of Undeath, Tear in the shroud of Death, listen to the words of your humble servant, a maggot in your godlike corpse. I have found out where the followers of Bahamut have hidden the Rod of Ruin! The paladin of Bahamut I defiled and brought back in your name knows of its hiding place, great Master.”

The Rod of Ruin – Found! The Blood Lord clenched his fist around the Wand of Orcus, blood dripping between his fingers. This opened up new possibilities, the chessboard had suddenly shifted, and things were tilting in his favor again. As Lord of the Undead, Orcus had the everlasting patience of the dead, a trait seldom seen among his demonic cohorts and enemies. But Orcus knew that if he waited long enough in the darkness, secrets held in life would resurface in the afterlife. It was just a matter of time, and that time was now. With the Rod of Ruin resurfacing he could send his pawns to collect it and complete the task once started but never finished – turning the living world into a realm of undeath and eternal darkness. His divine mind immediately identified the hundreds of actions needed for setting the plan in motion, but first – he poured a fraction of his essence into the world of the living. His aspect materialized in the crypt of his maggot, pulling darkness and the chill of the grave with it. The priest screamed in terror as his eyes started to bleed at the sight of his true Lord. There were still questions that needed answers and a dept of a soul to be paid…

Chapter 1: The Keep on the Shadowfell

Spoiler: The town of Winterhaven

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The rutted King's Road leads past several dozen small thatched homes to the foot of a broad hill upon which rest the walls of Winterhaven. The crenelations atop the walls have been weathered round by the icy winds that blow down from the Cairngorm Peaks just to the northwest. The farms that surround the town are small but relatively prosperous and well kept, but past these to the to the south and east lie the dark forests of the Gardbury Downs.

More and more lately, the peasants that live in the shadows of Winterhaven's walls, ostensibly under the protection of Lord Padraig, have taken to spending long hours in Wrafton's Inn, afraid to leave the shelter of the town after dark. By the same token, their lord grows more frustrated each day as he attempts to persuade, bluster, cajole, and more lately threaten his people into helping him and his few guards deal with the growing kobold threat which drives their fears. To date his efforts have been unsuccessful.

Fortunately, despite the situation's growing severity, it has yet to dramatically impact day to day life in the town. The gates remain open and lightly guarded by day. The market square, smithy, and town shoppe do their regular business. Valthrun the Prescient remains sequestered in his five story hermitage in the center of town, while the temple is only slightly bothered by an increase in penitents in need of healing services.

Spoiler: What do you do?

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Everybody can roll a d6. The result is how many days you have been in Winterhaven. Alternatively you can declare that you were traveling with one of your fellow player characters and thus you arrived on the same day that they did. There are plenty of places to poke around town. If you'd like, you could seek an audience with the Lord of the village and offer to solve his kobold problem, or you could head off directly to explore the countryside, or of course something else entirely.

[JNAProductions]

Spoiler: Town Roll

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(1d6)[5]

Annette is currently in Wrafton's, in the form of a short and curvaceous young lady. She's not particularly keen to be drinking, but she does want to at least try to get a feel for the town's current mood, and maybe lighten it a little if she can.

[Obscuraphile]

With the sun past its peak and dipping back towards the horizon the local townsfolk begin to filter into the Inn. Having been around for the better part of a week Annette can recognize a few face and receives some friendly nods and waves as people claim their usual tables. Salvana Wrafton, the proprietor, is like a general with the voice of a song bird, singing out orders to the kitchen and service staff alike. Despite the good-natured chaos slowly building in the common room as people pack in her warm smile and friendly demeanor never falter.

As Annette watches, Salvana expertly navigates the room tending to her customers. She carefully extricates herself from an encounter with Eilian the Old, another face that Annette recognizes. Eilian means well, but he never in his long life passed up a chance at a long winded conversation, even if he really didn't have anything useful to say. Not that he never had anything important or interesting to talk about. Eilian is a wealth of local gossip and information alike.

Nearby Eilian the three individuals behind Winterhaven's economic infrastructure play loudly at dice. Two dwarves, Thair Coalstriker the smith and Bairwin Wildarson the shopkeep, are getting cleaned out by an elf, Delphina Moongem who runs the market square, when she isn't selling her wildflowers that is.

[ngilop]

Spoiler: Town Roll

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(1d6)[4]

Tarik had been on a few days travel when he met a young paladin of Torm, his quest of dealing with a death cult that may have set up base in Winterhaven piqued Tarik's curiosity, and so the warrior offered to join and help, provided of course the paladin assisted him on his own goal of dealing with the kobold threats to the small village.

After spending some time in the town getting to know the basics of who's who. Tarik is directed to seek an audience with lord Padraig to offer o deal with the kobolds.

[J-H]

Zacharias

Zacharias met Tarik on the road. After arriving in Winterhaven, he spent some time looking around the city, familiarizing himself with the guards and the surroundings, and searching for any sign of the death cultists. Keeping his findings in mind, he goes with Tarik to the audience. The kobolds are a problem, too.

Spoiler

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Looking for Death Cultists:
Sense Motive is at a +4, DM roll privately as needed for any figures in town he'd have talked to, plus observing stuff around the tavern & temple. (temple to whom?)

Detect Evil at will, in the tavern at night and while walking around town and in the houses and buildings surrounded the walled area. The occasional evil person is just part of normal life, but DE should pick up any organized groups, as well as any hidden altars that aren't sufficiently obscured by thick walls.

Also, K: Nobility to know anything useful about Lord Padraig (1d20+1)[18]

[Unavenger]

Esther Sylvari was not used to the city.

That was an understatement. She hadn't been here half her life. In fact, that was also an understatement, but it was true enough. Now she'd spent a whole three days doing very little but finding her way around. Fortunately no-one objected to her staying out on the streets - who would, when there were bigger problems to deal with? One guard had warned her that it was dangerous out after dark. She raised an eyebrow, and the guard realised that the woman who had a pet wolf and whose entire material wealth was in weapons might be used to danger. Even Aurora, the wolf, glistened with the points of multiple spears strapped to her side, not to mention a variety of daggers. It was almost all that Esther was allowed to carry; she might as well be armed to the teeth after all.

That said, it didn't help her stay anonymous. Quite the opposite: you don't wander around with a wolf and enough weapons to equip a small army - okay, on reflection, a very small army, but still - without getting a reputation. People avoided her: few would risk going near Esther, or perhaps more likely near Aurora.

She wandered about dejectedly, then, finding places where she could help people - when such people were willing to accept her aid - which mostly meant helping with general repairs since the last kobold attack - she would have helped with healing, but it had been long enough that the church had already seen to it. She supposed that she wouldn't do badly to help defend the town against this evil, but something bigger was on her mind.

She considered this matter idly while she helped a man repair his home as best she could. Unfortunately, her lack of skill at the task made this a harder prospect than she would have liked, and she was mostly running supplies back and forth to him and only occasionally taking up the hammer herself. It was a way of helping, though. That was what mattered.

[Obscuraphile]

Zacharius:

After his arrival in town, Zacharius quickly learns the names and faces of the Winterhaven Regulars, the ten full time guardsmen that Lord Padriag employs. The men and women are friendly enough and have nothing but genuine praise for their lord. Lord Padriag's line and right of rulership apparently extend back to the Nerathi Empire of old. Some years ago, when his father passed, the current Lord Padriag assumed his mantle. However the Lord of Winterhaven is not an absolute autocrat. Thus without an eminent threat he cannot force the villagers to do his bidding and eliminate the growing kobold threat. Several of the guards express disdain at what they see as the shortsightedness of the townsfolk, while others declare their understanding, if not wholehearted support, of the peasants' position.

In addition to the various hovels scattered around within the walls of Winterhaven, Zacharius visits the stables and wainwright's, the warrior guild, and the town's singular boarding house. The stables and wainwright's is owned and run by a married couple, a male elf and a female human. They produce about six wagons a year and make additional money horse trading with the surrounding population or the occasional wagons that come through from the nearby towns and villages, all about a week's journey away. The warrior guild is a very grand name for what amounts to little more than a barely utilized gym and a militia drill group. The place is run by Rond Kelfem, one-time adventurer and captain of the Winterhaven Regulars. The boarding house is run by a stocky old dwarf matron who brooks no nonsense under her roof. It is patronized by the various temporary workers, young couples who cannot yet afford a home of their own, and idlers that a town the size of Winterhaven generates.

The temple is one of a relative few stone structures in Winterhaven. The town is not nearly rich enough to afford a separate place of worship for each of the various faiths practiced in the area, so instead, Sister Linora and her two young acolytes maintain small shrines to most of the gods of good and offers three services a week, one to the gods of nature and the old faith, one to the gods of the common folk, Pelor and Avandra mostly, and one to the gods of idealism and valor, Torm, Bahamut, and St. Cuthbert. Sister Linora also has responsibility for the small graveyard the town keeps a short distance to the south.

While there is a faint whiff of evil lurking around the boarding house, it is likely the product of long habitation by lazy and resentful types who frequented its halls, often besotted, rather than anything worth worry about. None of the other places that Zacharius visited gave him even that vague feeling of dread. In the common room at Wrafton's, Zacharius picks out a few faces that his otherworldly senses indicate as less than savory, a couple of the poorest looking farmers, and also some of the richest, one of the trappers, who sits alone at the bar, and one of the two dwarves playing at dice with the elf.

Taking careful note of all this in his mind Zacharius accompanies Tarik to the audience with Lord Padriag.

Tarik & Zacharius:

Speaking to one of the guards at the inner wall secures a meeting with Lord Padriag within a few hours. As Tarik and Zacharius are lead through the secondary courtyard towards the manor house, a building far too grand to be explained by Winterhaven's humble condition, they see that Padriag's soldiers are billeted in the northeast corner and a warehouse stands to the west. At the head of a small flight of stairs stands a set of oaken double doors with a large knocker apparently made of gold. Turning, the guard says to Tarik and Zacharius, "There are no weapons allowed in the manor. I'll keep your arms safe with me and you can retrieve them on your way out." His tone brooks no argument.

Laying Tarik's sheathed blade across his shoulders the guardsman reaches out to the knocker and strikes it once, then, at the appearance of one who can only be the lord's steward, the young man bows to the steward, takes Zacharius' sword, hammer, and bow, and giving Tarik a quick nod turns smartly on his heel and trundles back to his post under the veritable armory of confiscated weapons. The steward instructs Tarik and Zacharius to follow him, closing the doors with a soft resonant boom. The adventurers are lead through several rather ostentatious rooms with wood paneling, gold filigree, and thick fur rugs, before the steward comes to a stop and knocks, with his gloved hand, on a second, smaller pair of double doors. "Enter!" comes the response from within.

The steward opens both doors, preceding Tarik into a small library stacked floor to ceiling with books and filled with piles more that won't fit on the shelves. A large bay window allows the sun to shine in over the shoulders of a middle aged man sitting behind a modestly sized but intricately caved desk made of some off-white material. "The adventurers Tarik Edoah and Zacharius Thompson to see you, lordship," the steward says with a deep bow.

"Thank you, Gareth." the man says with a dismissive gesture, not truly looking up from his reading. The steward rises and departs leaving the doors open. Tarik and Zacharius notice that despite the warmth of the rest of the mansion, this room has the feeling of some of the autumn chill that lurks outside, probably a result of the large window and the lack of a fireplace. Great velvet curtains stand ready to be drawn and plunge the room into darkness but Lord Padriag sits ensconced within a large fur cloak and doesn't seem to feel the nip in the room.

After a moment he marks his place and closes the book in front of him, rising and directing his visitors to a seat across the odd, cream colored desk. "I am told that you wish to speak with me concerning our kobold problem," he says appraising Tarik and Zacharius as he retakes his own seat. "They are growing bolder by the day, or I suppose they are growing bolder by the night. They still fear us enough that they will not operate under the light of the sun. The moon is another matter entirely. Storehouses are broken into almost nightly and encamped travelers are becoming more and more endangered." Lord Padriag stops and seems to come to a conclusion about the men sitting in front of him. "You seem up to the task, but I hope you have friends to aid you."

Esther:

Many of the people who dwell within Winterhaven's walls shun Esther, whether of mistrust for her or fear of her wolf it is not quite clear, but those that live in the surrounding countryside, primarily those that keep to the old faiths, generally recognize what she represents and while they are not always the most welcoming or at ease in her presence they do their best to treat her well. Esther learns from them that the kobold attacks have been slowly increasing in frequency and severity over the past year. It started with small thefts from traveling families on the King's Road, a stolen bit of grain here, a lost bit of jewelry there. Never were there any injuries and only the tracks of kobolds even indicated who was behind the acts.

Then, slowly as the creatures got bolder, people started getting hurt. Whole wagons got ransacked. As of yet there have been no kidnapped children or any of the other horrible things that such monsters are known for in bedtime stories, but it's really only a matter of time. This sentiment is rife throughout the countryside but paired with it is the commoners' insistence that the responsibility for dealing with the problem lies elsewhere. People say that Lord Padriag should do something, like send out his guards or hire some adventurers, or something. Maybe he could send to Fallcrest for aid. But everywhere Esther goes, nobody is willing to take up arms themselves.

[Schismatic]

Spoiler: Town Roll Results

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Milana has been in town for... (d6)[3]

"Yep, just making my way out there in the world." She said to one off duty night sentry guard at Wrafton's Inn. Putting aside her tankard of ale. "I actually have no rutting idea what I'm supposed to do next. See, a good friend of mine is paying me like 6 months' worth of busking to do this thing. Locate some places, complete a topographical survey of the land. But, like, what in the Nine Hells do I personally know about cartography?" She noted in an excited tone to a less enthralled audience.

She had her father's characteristic silver blonde locks that flowed thick to the small of her back. The early greying human, aging the general conceit of any initial impressions of her by a good 7 years. Regardless of making her look older than she really was, any mythical idea of wisdom or insight fleeting as soon as she likely opened her mouth, and allowing all signs of never graduating the school of hard knocks. An unusually deep green pair of irises set in a soft tawney skin tone and rounded face gave a juxtaposing sweet affirmation of unblemished youth, at least when liberated of the dust of travelled roads when one could afford a bath--which fortunately her protracted stay in town allowed.

She wore a simple set of hardened leather armour. An armoured bodice, arm and shoulder guards, thigh pads, and reinforced boots worn on top of a utilitarian tunic and slacks. An aged, fuller-grooved longsword and simple partial scabbard containing her weapon of choice, and an oaken light shield hooked across her back tried to sell the look of an 'adventurer' but something looked remarkably off. Namely how she carried herself.

For the last three days she'd taken to wearing her armour in case of attacks against the town itself, due to the worsening situation. Plus, she figured, it would be a good idea to get used to it. If it wasn't for the friendly, charismatic mannerisms coupled with a 'big city' charm and appeasing tongue, she would look every bit the mountain brigandwaiting for her mark.

"But I don't even know where to start. Like I knew Cranewing way back when. He knows I never studied history when I was under tutelage at the College, y'know?" She said to an increasingly apathetic guard who likely wished he never asked how her day had been--"So is he like, giving me a job because I said in passing I wanted to do bigger things in life than playing a stage--or does he feel sorry for me--or is he just taking care of me and making sure I didn't just enlist with a mercenary band or something--or does he actually have faith in my abilities?" She droned without even the good graces of pausing for a drink. Something her companion had nothing but time for...

[ngilop]

Tarik bows slightly to Lord Padriag "I have dealt with kobolds enough, that I can speak their tongue, indeed tis why I made my way to Winterhaven. had an idea my skills could be put to good use. As for friends, I met this sturdy fellow on the way here, I am sure this Torm he follows will provide more." Tarik intentionally leaves out the part about the cultists, knowing tis better to remain silent on such until it is easier to glean who and who is not under sway of the organization.

[J-H]

Zacharias

"I agree with your assessment milord. Handiness with a blade is all well and good, but numbers, magic, and perhaps someone with lighter footsteps would all help us. I fought kobolds once or twice whilst squiring, and they are sneaky, tricky little creatures.

They are also greedy, so perhaps we could set a trap for them - but we'd need someone who could help track them back to whatever holes they hide in during the day."

Zacharias looks around at the books. An odd choice for a lord in a small frontier town.

Spoiler

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Just looking for anything off. Sense motive or whatever. Detect Evil is a SLA, so I can't activate it without him noticing.

[Obscuraphile]

Milana:

The guardsman's eyes wander the room, as he begins to regret his decision to try and chat up the pretty new girl. Offering the occasional nod and polite smile he searches for any way to extricate himself from the situation without being too rude. Suddenly an opportunity presents itself when Eilian the Old totters up to the bar for more drink. "Oh wow!" the guardsman exclaims cutting Milana off. "A thousand pardons, miss, but this ale has gone right through me!" his face turns a faint shade of pink as he realizes what he just said to a lady. "Umm, apologies miss. I have lived among soldiers for too long," he mumbles. "I must go relieve myself but, Eilian! Eilian, come here good man!"

The old farmer turns and tilts his head at the young pair. "Ehh? What's that now?" he asks making his way over.

"Eilian, this is Milana. She's new in town, here to draw up some maps. You know all about the area. Why don't you two have a nice chat," he says the not quite so subtle implication being, without me! With introductions made the guardsman picks up his tankard and hurries back to the table of other off duty soldiers.

Eilian sits down with a sigh and creak of old bones. "So you're making a map, ehh? Have you heard about the old keep yet? It's a few hours up the road to the north. Or maybe you want to know about the dragon's graveyard in the Gardbury Downs? Oh oh oh, or maybe you'd like to hear the tale of the Winter King's Cairn up in the Cairngorm Peaks?" Once settled Eilian offers up stories with the enthusiasm of a child.

Tarik & Zacharius:

Lord Padriag nods and strokes his fine mustachios. "Trapping them might work. My charges, the good folk of this town, have proved singularly unhelpful in dealing with the situation. Perhaps one of the local huntsmen would be willing to assist you with some of their woodcraft. I'm sure you could find some of them down at Wrafton's. What's more knowledge of our predicament is spreading. It could be that others like yourselves have already arrived to render aid."

Zacharius notices that most of the piles of books and papers are recent productions, glancing at the top pages of a few reveals that they are reports and records of the town and its environs. On the shelves lining the walls are well made leather-bound tomes, all of which appear to be at least decades old. This causes Zacharius to realize something, all the wealth and splendor of the manor house is old money, from ages past. Anything newer is also of lesser quality, crude and homemade. Once, perhaps, this was a truly prosperous noble household, but its golden years are well past.

[Schismatic]

Milana:

The guardsman's eyes wander the room, as he begins to regret his decision to try and chat up the pretty new girl. Offering the occasional nod and polite smile he searches for any way to extricate himself from the situation without being too rude. Suddenly an opportunity presents itself when Eilian the Old totters up to the bar for more drink. "Oh wow!" the guardsman exclaims cutting Milana off. "A thousand pardons, miss, but this ale has gone right through me!" his face turns a faint shade of pink as he realizes what he just said to a lady. "Umm, apologies miss. I have lived among soldiers for too long," he mumbles. "I must go relieve myself but, Eilian! Eilian, come here good man!"

The old farmer turns and tilts his head at the young pair. "Ehh? What's that now?" he asks making his way over.

"Eilian, this is Milana. She's new in town, here to draw up some maps. You know all about the area. Why don't you two have a nice chat," he says the not quite so subtle implication being, without me! With introductions made the guardsman picks up his tankard and hurries back to the table of other off duty soldiers.

Eilian sits down with a sigh and creak of old bones. "So you're making a map, ehh? Have you heard about the old keep yet? It's a few hours up the road to the north. Or maybe you want to know about the dragon's graveyard in the Gardbury Downs? Oh oh oh, or maybe you'd like to hear the tale of the Winter King's Cairn up in the Cairngorm Peaks?" Once settled Eilian offers up stories with the enthusiasm of a child.

"Awww ... that's too bad. I thought we were really starting to get to know one another." She murmured before she perked up ad Eilian sat down. "Hello friend!" She listened enraptured by all the local legends he was speaking about with such passions. As a bard, she appreciated lively discussion even if the topic itself wasless than interesting--though the mythology and mysticism of the places he described and named did more than pique her interests.

"Okay, wow! See, as my father always said--'Books are great an all, but talk to a farmer or pastoralist if you want to get the real lay of the land. No people know local geography like the people that tend and graze it.'" She said exuberantly.

"Like, Cranewing and their stories and lore and all that stuff is interesting and all, and they were talking about these ancient Nerath empire keeps and paying me a pretty silver to go get hard information on them. But by the sounds of it all of these places are either relevant or a lot more interesting." She issued a hand over to the innkeeper to bring a pitcher of good ale. Retrieving a loose handdrawn copy of Cranewing's map, another piece of paper from her pack, and her inkwell, and feather pen. Gripping the latter in her right hand and dipping its nib to hover over a blank piece of yellowed page.

"I want to hear absolutely everything ... if you could help me out completing this map not only will it shorten the task and I can be doing something else, but maybe we could help eachother out!" She beamed at the old farmer. Though she tempered her mood slightly.

"I mean if you can help me fill out this map and its local conditions, and dot it with interesting sites--preferably the older the better, something-something Nerath like, though any sites of local interest also welcomed?--I would gladly compensate you for all of your wisdom once we nail down their geography as I go exploring. Might help bolster your reserves in the face of this kobold menace." She offered with a softer, kinder smile.

[JNAProductions]

Annette decides to test a small theory she has, based on some of the reactions she's gotten from people in the past. Due to having spent most her life first in an alchemical lab with people who are certifiably insane (AKA Adventurers) and the next large portion in a temple, she doesn't have too much experience with normal people's reactions to a form like she has now-curvy in all the right places.

She heads over to the gambling table, mostly towards Thair and Bairwin, and says I'm in-oops! as she throws silver coin on the table. It skitters a little too far, though, and she bends over to try to recover it. Sorry! Little clumsy, sometimes. But yeah, I'm in!

...

How do I play?

[J-H]

Zacharias

The paladin nods. "We will check to see if we can find anyone. Can we count on some of your guards to help as well?"

[Obscuraphile]

Zacharius:

Lord Padriag runs a hand over his face. "I cannot spare soldiers to go traipsing blindly through the woods and leave our walls undefended," he says in a resigned tone. "However," he continues, raising a finger to forestall any protests. "If you can find where the creatures are coming from I can lend you my captain and two hand-picked spears to bolster your numbers for a day. I imagine that this warren will have a good many of the vermin living there."

Annette:

Hands flash out protectively to steady drinks as Annette's coin goes bouncing across the table. The three gamblers laugh and Thair, the smith, reaches over to pull a chair out for the newcomer. Bairwin, the shopkeep, produces a fresh set of knucklebones with a mumbled comment of, "If you win enough I won't have to charge you for these." And Delphina explains the rules, "So you have four dice and you can score anywhere from four to thirty-six." She holds up one of the knucklebones and indicates what each side scores, one, three, four, and six respectively. "You ante to roll the hand. Then you peek and everybody takes a round of betting-"

"Bairwin's got a horrible tell!" Thair breaks in with an over loud whisper and a hoarse guffaw.

"I do not!" Bairwin bellows in mock outrage.

"Anyways!" Delphina says silencing the two dwarves with a pointed glare of her mirthful eyes. "After betting you can reroll all, some, or none of your bones. Then everybody bets again. Then you show. Highest score wins the pot."

Spoiler: At the gambling table

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Rather than actually trying to find rules for and figure out how to roll the games, you can attempt a Profession (Gambler; Int), Sense Motive (Wis), or Sleight of Hand (Dex) check to win. If you don't have any of these skills you may make an Intelligence, Wisdom, or Dexterity check instead. Intelligence represents trying to play the odds. Wisdom represents trying to play the people. And Dexterity represents attempting to cheat, with all of the hazards that such an endeavor would entail.

Milana:

Eilian is no cartographer by any stretch of the imagination but he is able to ramble out enough details for Milana to sketch out the gist of the surrounding areas. A lot of his information seems to be tales he was told as a child and to which he has added his own twists and turns over the years with his own retellings and he also peppers in plenty of town gossip.

"You know, I'm not even convinced that these kobold attacks are kobolds? People are always describing them as short, red, and brown. They might actually be redcaps! Little fairy buggers escaped from the Feywild!"

Spoiler: What you have learned

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You now have a solid grasp of the surrounding geography with specific directions on how to get to the grave site of a dragon, located about half a day's journey to the south, through the woods and a general description of the location and condition of the keep, about the same distance to the north. Eilian's story about the keep's history immediately strikes you as embellished to the point of implausibility.

You also have an understanding of both town gossip and politics. This will come in the form of spoilers as the situations arise. I'm doing it this way to avoid tipping my hand via poor story-telling ability. Sorry but it's the best fix I've got. I don't want to make it obvious which bits of gossip are world/story building and which are plot related.

[JNAProductions]

Spoiler: Gambling!

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(1d20+3)[8]

Straight Int check here.

Annette takes a seat and rolls the dice.

While she doesn't do too well for herself, she is willing to put down a few more silver, and while playing, talks to the men and woman. So, just making sure-it's Thair, Bairwin, and Delphina, right?

[Obscuraphile]

Annette:

"Aye, lass!" says Thair, who is stocky, even for a dwarf, with black lusterless hair that Annette can't quite tell if it is natural or dirtied by soot. "I am Thair Coalstriker and I run the smithy. That's Bairwin Wildarson, his is the only general store and adventuring shoppe in town." Thair points with his thumb and Bairwin tugs respectfully at a braided lock of his dark blonde beard, a traditional greeting for dwarves. "An' that harpy is Delphina Moonstone, queen o' the flowers!" Thair continues causing the elf in question to contort her striking, exotic features into a comical face.

"Gimme back my money!" Thair declares cheerfully revealing his winning hand and scooping the pot towards his own small mixed pile of coppers and silvers. The other two take long pulls of their drinks while Thair stacks up his winnings and everybody collects up their dice to roll again.

[Schismatic]

Milana:

Eilian is no cartographer by any stretch of the imagination but he is able to ramble out enough details for Milana to sketch out the gist of the surrounding areas. A lot of his information seems to be tales he was told as a child and to which he has added his own twists and turns over the years with his own retellings and he also peppers in plenty of town gossip.

"You know, I'm not even convinced that these kobold attacks are kobolds? People are always describing them as short, red, and brown. They might actually be redcaps! Little fairy buggers escaped from the Feywild!"

Spoiler: What you have learned

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You now have a solid grasp of the surrounding geography with specific directions on how to get to the grave site of a dragon, located about half a day's journey to the south, through the woods and a general description of the location and condition of the keep, about the same distance to the north. Eilian's story about the keep's history immediately strikes you as embellished to the point of implausibility.

You also have an understanding of both town gossip and politics. This will come in the form of spoilers as the situations arise. I'm doing it this way to avoid tipping my hand via poor story-telling ability. Sorry but it's the best fix I've got. I don't want to make it obvious which bits of gossip are world/story building and which are plot related.

She poured herself and Eilian a drink from a pitcher of ale with her left hand as she put down a silver piece for the large vessel of the light golden brew, listening to his instructions and stories intently as she went through two large papers. One, making down visually on her loose topographical maps, and writing instructions , mythos, and stories about each locale in turn on another. She chimed in occasionally as they talked if only to lighten the mood, feign shock, or not feign at all if particularly suspenseful and horrifying his tales.

"You know ... I've never actually even seen a kobold before. Neither a redcap, either, to be honest. But from what I've heard the kobolds only now are causing you major strife, and redcap trickery and the legends of their cunning brutality and mercilessness may fit the bill..." Entertaining the thought for a second. She immediately shook her head at that dispelling her mental wanderings.

"I'll be finding out soon enough, regardless! I think I have enough here to keep me busy. To tell you the truth the map I'm making is more about this Nerath keep and its surrounds, but I have a feeling about this dragon place might hold more Nerath secrets given the extensive ruins about the locale. So I think I have multiple days of work ahead of me." She pauses at that and smiles.

"Tell you what ..." She stuck her left hand back to her inside her pack and retrieved five gold pieces from her concealed purse. Palming them over. "Given me and my partner will be pretty busy over the coming tenday with all of these locations and drawing up a final map for Cranewing, we'll probably not get a chance to meet again soon. Plus I figure that amount should allow you to buy a good deal of provisions while in the village before heading back to your farmstead. Thanks for all your help!" She beamed at him.

She lifted herself up, putting the stopper on the vial of ink and rolling the two pieces of paper up together, putting them in her pack. And lastly collecting her tankard. "Oh, and please. Enjoy the rest of the pitcher." Before taking a long drink of her tankard and wandering over to Annette.

"Five weights of gold, three silver down. But I got some information on our objective, as well as another place nearby we might want to look into." She said excitedly to her partner as she played her games, trying not to interrupt her and providing a friendly smile and nod to her gaming friends. Pointing at Annette with her index finger and mouthing 'With her, it's fine.' Excitement practically dripping off every body language. Clearly she was ager to give this whole 'adventuring biz' a shot.

Spoiler: Inventory Changes..

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15 pieces of paper down to 13.

+1 rough map of the surrounding countryside.
+1 instructions, local myths and 'history' of some of the locales.

-5GP, -3SP

[J-H]

Zacharius

"Thank you. Who would know the most about the kobold attacks? Can you suggest what woodsmen to talk to?

To set a trap, we'll need bait. If we tell someone to be obvious about moving food or valuables to a vulnerable warehouse, will you give instructions that they will listen to?"

[Buufreak]

(1d6-2)[1]

Spoiler: ooc

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Taking the -2 for the lateness. Figure that can help to even things out and not let me wanderlust too much.

Seamus arrives in town, perhaps a bit late, it would seem. Night has grown on and the town seems well deserted. Like before when leaving home for the first time, he sees the lights of a building and makes his way. Entering Wrafton's Inn, he sees the vastness that is the majority of the town. He finds a seet the best he can, and strikes up conversation with the nearest person he can find.

"Excuse me, miss, but I heard tale of a dragon grave coming up in my home town. Is this the town that was close to it, or did I travel in the wrong direction? I'm looking for Winterhaven."

[ngilop]

Tarik's impatient and eager personality breaks through "Well, Zacharius, you seem to have details to work out. Not my speciality by far. I head on to this Wrafton's and see if there are any there to take up the cause"

Tarik bows and takes his leave, getting his sword before he leaves and makes his way to the inn. As he arrives he boldly and with much gusto exclaims 'Who here wants to deal with these kobold vermin?" The solidly built man is most certainly a warrior of some sort, and a bit boisterous.

[Unavenger]

Esther had spent a while helping the people of the city, and wandered into the tavern to see if there was anything else to be found in this town, leaving Aurora to conceal herself as best she could outside. She hesitated, unsure of whom she should strike up a conversation with...

"Excuse me, miss, but I heard tale of a dragon grave coming up in my home town. Is this the town that was close to it, or did I travel in the wrong direction? I'm looking for Winterhaven."

She turned, startled. "Winterhaven this is, for sure. And I have heard much the same tale. Perhaps it's connected with the kobolds somehow, but otherwise I had hoped to treat it as a secondary issue."

"Who here wants to deal with these kobold vermin?"

She turned to another entrant. "Hmm, I'd say that's my cue. Esther Sylvari at your service". She extended a hand.

[J-H]

Zacharias

Zacharias politely bids Lord Padraig goodbye and goes with Tarik, once his question has been answered.

[ngilop]

Tarik looks down to the small woman who spoke to him and takes the offered hand, his own hand looking gigantic next to hers which makes his chuckle a few times.

"Well, cannot say that you look capable to me. But, an offer of help is an offer I shall not pass on. I will do my best to keep you safe. Tarik's the name Tarik Edoah" Tarik seems to be blunt, as well as a bit dangerous. But, you do seem to feel a bit safer with the large man standing next to you.

[Buufreak]

He meets her hand with a soft touch and a warm smile. "Seamus Horash, and no need for anyones who be servicing me. I prefer getting my hands dirty." He sits back into his chair, very relaxed given the situation. "What's all this about kobolds? Da' and I used to chase 'em off the farm when I was too young to draw a bow."

[Obscuraphile]

Spoiler: Zacharius

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"Thank you. Who would know the most about the kobold attacks? Can you suggest what woodsmen to talk to?

To set a trap, we'll need bait. If we tell someone to be obvious about moving food or valuables to a vulnerable warehouse, will you give instructions that they will listen to?"

Lord Padriag raises an eyebrow at Tarik's sudden departure and rings a small bell that is sitting on the desk in front of him. The steward appears at the doors to the library and escorts Tarik to the doors of the manor. At the inner gate the young guardsman is warming himself by a brazier in a hollow place out of the wind. When Tarik appears the guardsman promptly hands over his blade and wishes him well.

Back in the library Lord Padriag focuses his attention on Zacharius. "Winterhaven is not a large town by any stretch of the imagination, so what one person knows one day everybody is likely to know the next. As for my recommendation regarding a forester, I would say that, despite her rather icy demeanor, the elf maid Ninaran is second to none in her craft."

Zacharius' second question gives the Lord a great deal more pause. "I am afraid I can no more order my charges to risk their property than I can order them to risk life or limb. But, I can offer you a portion of my house's wealth with which to bait your trap. Or I suppose it might be more accurate to say you may take what I would give you for solving this problem and use it for that same end." Lord Padriag rings his bell again, summoning the steward. Rising to his feet and addressing his manservant, Lord Padriag assumes the air of one used to being obeyed. "Gareth, Withdraw three hundred gold pieces from the treasury and make the siege supplies available to master Zacharius and his allies."

"Very good, sir," Gareth says with a deep bow.

Turning back to Zacharius Lord Padriag says, "I grant you, and your allies of course, have absolute rights to anything reclaimed from the Kobolds' warren, regardless of previous ownership. Please deal with the matter as swiftly as you are able." It is obvious from the Lord's tone and the steward beckoning gesture that Zacharius is dismissed.

The coins that Gareth acquires for Zacharius are all stamped with a profile remarkable similar, but not quite representative of the current Lord Padriag. Gareth explains that at some point many generations ago, after the fall of the Empire of Nerath, the monetary system began to fail and the House Padriag took to minting their own coins and keeping the economy afloat out of their personal coffers. When the current Lord Padriag was young, the elders of the town claimed he was the veritable image of his great sires. Thus it is almost his face on the coinage of Winterhaven.

Wrafton's:

Eilian thanks Milana for her generosity and her willingness to listen to his ramblings. "Few enough care what Eilian the Old has to say these days." He opines before saying his goodbye and taking the pitcher and his tankard over to a table where several younger children await him. There are shrill cries of "Story! Story!" as he eases his old bones onto the padded seat one of the oldest boys pulls out for him.

The last rays of the setting sun turn the sky beautiful shades of red, orange, and purple as Seamus enters the tavern. Inside the farmers are doing their best to make merry and forget the creeping threat and hardship of the last few months. The gamblers give Milana appraising glances but are more than happy to welcome her to the table and allow her to pester Annette. Bairwin makes a comment about hoping that the distraction will help his chances at getting some money out of the evening, even if it is only the sale of a gambling set. Thair and Delphina tell him to shut up and roll his bones.

The atmosphere becomes decidedly more sober when Tarik makes his entrance and brings everybody's delusions crashing down. There are a few uncomfortable mumbles from several of the tables where groups of farmers are drinking and talking, but Salvana Wrafton is able to recover and rekindle the jovial mood with a few well placed words, some kind, others teasing. She gives Tarik a serious, but not exactly annoyed, look and guides him along with his new acquaintances over to a corner table. "A pitcher and some seasoned potatoes on the house for you all. I thank you for your enthusiasm and desire to help us, young master, but would ask that you spare a thought for my business before you go ruining the evening."

Spoiler: Clarifications and Specifics

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So the party has been paid 300 gp in advance to deal with the kobolds. Lord Padriag has also offered you access to Winterhaven's siege supplies which is a collection of various mundane equipment as well as stock piles of food, water, and building materials. If you want to look through them for a specific item, feel free to ask. Depending on the type it might just be there or you might have to roll. Lord Padriag will be less than impressed if you take advantage of his generosity.

Also, just so that everyone is aware, the town of Winterhaven has a population of around 1000 individuals (approximately 200 families), spread out over the surrounding country side (i.e. those within about two day's ride on horse back). Wrafton's can hold, and is currently hosting, several dozen people.

[J-H]

Zacharias

Zacharias carefully places the coin within an inner pocket, safe from any sort of casual thievery. He walks into Wrafton's a couple of minutes behind Tarik, and looks around. It appears Tarik is making some new friends, perhaps ones who would be willing to help.

He walks over to Tarik and quietly says. "Recruiting? We need all the help we can get. I have a plan for the morrow."

Zacharias looks around to see if perhaps the elven woman named Ninaran is around. It sounds like this might not be her kind of place, but perhaps he can find someone who looks like a trapper or hunter who would know where to find her.

[Schismatic]

She gave a warm smile as the younglings made a spot for the kindly old farmer. It was enough to remind her about a local sage she and her friends used to harass for stories about the wider world as kids. Every village, town, and even city had a kindly Eilian and she counted herself fortunate to have run into Winterhaven's one.

When the crowd went silent she looked about herself, wandering exactly what was up. Her cursory investigation broken by Salvana's offer.

"Woo! Salvana is a saint! Charity and cheer so boundless!" She screamed out. Totally misreading the audience or any of its gravitas of the new arrival. She patted Annette on the shoulder softly just to let her know she were heading away and quietly left her to her game of dice.

"See... free ale, good company, amazing stories about dead dragons and kobolds, and possibly redcaps. Like zero qualms about coming here." She slowly wandered over to collect her free prize for simply existing in the room, but as if she were going to let a gift go untaken regardless of how little it was deserved. "If only so many places were this interesting..." As she await her turn to receive her prize of amber brew. Tapping on the nearest person's shoulder in line for the drinks and feed, and pointing to the newcomers.

"What's their story, friend?" She asked curiously, as if trying to get read on the situation.

[Obscuraphile]

Wrafton's:

Milana draws a few further glances with her outburst but most people have tumbled to the fact that adventurers are in town and are willing to let a bit of queerness fly. Thair glances around the gambling table as Milana goes off to pester food from the growing table of adventures. "Yer, friend..." he says the slightest bit of a slur creeping into his voice. The dwarf pauses and glares down the empty barrel of his tankard for a moment. Delphina leans over to fill him back up, dwarvish tradition being that the person sitting to one's right has the responsibility to keep their drink full. "She's a bit... touched? Aye?" he asks with a sympathetic expression while tapping the side of his head.

Meanwhile, Zacharius spots an elf woman who fits Lord Padriag's description of the trapper Ninaran sitting alone at one end of the bar.

Spoiler: Clarification

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There's no line for free drinks. Salvana was expressing her support for people who are willing to deal with the kobolds while at the same time taking Tarik aside and telling him not to bring down the mood. Only those at the table with him (i.e. the party members) heard or received anything on the house. Her comments to fill the awkward silence brought about by Tarik's grand entry were separate and directed at individual townsfolk. The tavern owner knows how to work a room.

[J-H]

Zacharias
Zacharias returns his bow and warhammer to his bedroom, not needing to be encumbered with them in this environment. He then goes and sits down next to Ninaran.

"Good evening. My name is Zacharias, and I have a plan to find the kobolds and end their threat. I've been told you're probably the person best able to help, and might be open to being hired."