Spark and Ember of hope IC

[Bladehunter217]

The town of Berdusk has stood for centuries, currently run by Lady Dragonbreast. The town has tall stone buildings and large sewers to collect rain and show, shepherding it to the nearby river. There are no nobles,simply wealthy merchants and other folk with a modicum of power.

Within the temple district are five main temples and a handful of stalls where acolytes of gods will preach day to day, often handing out alms and offering minor spellwork to protect the people of the town.

Just to the south is the river Chionthar, large enough for small merchant ships to travel, making it a popular way for people who can afford to travel. The cobblestone caravan road is a cheaper alternative to leave the area.

To the north is the Reaching Woods, still talked about with fear by many as the last several years have seen a stronger breed of goblins called hobgoblins slowly spreading south.

[JNAProductions]

Sasha waves goodbye to Al, as she sets out for her day. Have a good one, Uncle! she says as she walks out.

She heads for the temple district, greeting the various acolytes and seeing if anyone's in need of assistance.

[Zero Prime]

Volstagg Blackwood, Ember of Hope AC: 16 (19) | HP: 88 of 88 Passive Perception: 14| Passive Insight: 11 Active Effects: Sentinel's Shield; Adv on Initiative & Wisdom (Perception) Conditions: None. Volstagg looked back along the dirt path, through the massive, black barked trees, he could see the single plume of smoke curling up through the early morning air, Lyl would be stoking the hearth, a pot of porridge with honey, perhaps brown sugar would be bubbling in the pot. His stomach rumbled at the thought, but still, his family needed supplies for harvest season and he had to make the monthly journey through the reaching woods to Berdusk. Jhess had pleaded with him to be allowed to join him on his three day journey, but while news of the encroaching goblin tribes wasn't common knowledge, his familiarity with such matters allowed him to see beyond woodsmen's ale-house tales, to the truth of the matter, a looming threat. He sighed as he considered the hobgoblins, perhaps a harsh winter had depleted their food stores, and so they ranged further afield, even to the woods that once fell under the purview of the great Volstagg, known as the Blackshield, and his companions. Ha! Great?! Only the waistline given Lyn's cooking of late. Even still, he felt more comfortable, given the recent news, with the aforementioned Blackshield, strapped to Doggie's flank, and a plain, but well maintained longsword in a scabbard at his hip. A gift from the council of Treant's, it had defended him and the Companions well during their venture to the Necropolis. It belonged over a mantle piece, and could, in fact, be found there, were it not for the rumors of raiders, and Lyn's insistence that he take precautions. The ride was uneventful, though at times he thought he found tracks in the woods, long, narrow, high arches, and clad only in linen wraps, goblins or their ilk, he thought. But no sign of aggression, perhaps they followed him, but a large, well armed man, mounted on a warhorse could scare off raiders used to meeker prey. It was nightfall when he finally pulled up to the gates, he was challenged by the guards, as they began to close the gates. "It's Volstagg, come from my farm, a day's ride to the north to purchase supplies for the harvest." He yelled to the older gate's guard, "And Piotr? Don't think I forgot about the three crowns you owe me from our mid-summer's game of dice! Open the gate you old fool, and meet me at the Ale-house to drink off this damp chill of woods." The gates creaked open, and the call came down from atop the wall, "Aye, off in an hour you old hairy bastard." Volstagg laughed at that, spurred Doggie to a trot and made for the Ale-House, a drink, a bed, and tomorrow, the market. Once the familiar stables came into view, a young boy ran out, eyes wide at the massive warhorse, Volstagg smiled, tossed the eager young stable hand a few coins. "Doggie's a might too big for you, boy, I'll brush him myself." The youth gave Volstagg an odd look, the large man laughed, a friendly, booming thing. "A tip, lad. Ne'er let your daughter name your horse." After stabling Doggie for the night, he wandered into the common house, rented himself a room for the two nights, paid for the stabling services, feed, and hay for his horse and a round for himself and Piotr. He spent the rest of the evening enjoying a few pints, with the clacking of knuckle-bones, the clinking of copper coins, and the laughter of the common folk. He awoke the next morning, the throbbing in his head a reminder he wasn't a hero of twenty years anymore, and a roiling in his gut. In time he found his way back downstairs, where he had a thick stew from last night's dinner, and a crust of bread for breakfast. A large tankard of water went a long way towards clearing the hang over, but it still hung there, like a phantom, waiting for him to let his guard down. He moved, slowly, to the stables, checked on Doggie, ensuring he was well fed, only to note the stable boy was feeding the warhorse an apple and sugar cubes. The horse looked towards Volstagg and whinneyed. The larger man could only laugh, "Traitor." He turned and walked towards the marketplace, wandering first through the Temple District, always a source of news, to see if, they too, had heard of the encroaching hobgoblin raiders lurking in the Reaching Woods.

[JNAProductions]

Sasha, having asked around and finding no one in urgent need of her care, takes a moment to kneel before an altar. She was never the best at praying, but tries anyway. Hey. It's me again-Sasha, she says quietly. I'm just asking for you to keep my mom safe, wherever she is, and maybe... You know, maybe draw our paths together again? I know she's doing something important-she always is!-but I miss her. Um, thanks.

She stands up, dusting her pants off, and steps away from the altar without looking, bumping into the large man who's wandering the temple district. Oh! Oh my gosh, sorry! she lets out. The man, who's a little taller and lot more sturdily built than she is, seems completely fine, barely having budged from their little incident, but Sasha's still quite embarrassed. Sorry... I'm usually a little more careful, I just... Head in the clouds, you know? she says. She looks him over, and...

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d20+1)[9]

Imma roll a straight Int check, to see if she recognizes Volstagg. They've likely seen each other before, but not interacted a ton.

DC 10 is what I'm setting for myself.

Does not recognize him. Barely. You look kinda familiar, but I don't think I know your name. I'm Sasha-sorry again about bumping into you.

[Zero Prime]

Volstagg Blackwood, Ember of Hope AC: 16 (19) | HP: 88 of 88 Passive Perception: 14| Passive Insight: 11 Active Effects: Sentinel's Shield; Adv on Initiative & Wisdom (Perception) Conditions: None. Volstagg looked down at the child, Sasha, her wide, innocent eyes reminded him of his own daughter, Jhessail. "No harm done, child. No need to apologize." Absently forgetting the young girl at his feet, he surveyed the crowd, watching it's movement, and it's flow. Her familiarity with him drew his attention, mumbling something as he scanned the crowd, "It's the beard and the gut, makes me look like every other forester in from the Reaching Woods., don't fret young one." Not finding what he was looking for, he seemed to take in the young girl, her simple dress, the lack of an accompanying parent or guardian. "Are you an acolyte, child?"

[JNAProductions]

Ah, no, Sasha replies. I'm a merchant's daughter-but I've a gift for healing, so I come by to help those who seek aid from the temples. There's no one here in urgent need at the moment, so I was actually going to just go about my day. May I ask your name? And what brings you here today?

[Zero Prime]

Volstagg Blackwood, Ember of Hope AC: 16 (19) | HP: 88 of 88 Passive Perception: 14| Passive Insight: 11 Active Effects: Sentinel's Shield; Adv on Initiative & Wisdom (Perception) Conditions: None. A low, rumbling chuckle, "Just a farmer child, name's Volstagg. 'bout two days out from the stead, need supplies for the harvest." He continued to scan the Temple District, "Heard tales last night at the alehouse, wanted to confirm the rumors as somethin' more than just drunk boasting and far-fetched tales."

[JNAProductions]

Sasha nods. What are the rumours you talk of? I could ask my Uncle-he spends a lot of time at the bar.

Spoiler: Insight DC 14

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And Sasha is none too happy about that fact.

I've never been drinking myself, though-I've been in the bars a few times, but the allure of liquor just never appealed to me.

[Bladehunter217]

As the two soon to be adventurers speak with each other, a short and portly monk by the name of Bran rushes from one of the temples and up to Sasha. "Child, we need all the help available, twenty seven men and women just arrived, half might make it if we cannot find as many healers as there are." He looks nervously behind himself before seeming to notice Volstagg. "We've a man big as a bear we cannot move, can you help us friend?" Without waiting for any replies, he turns and bolts into the nearest temple, calling out to other's nearby to go to other monks as he gestures wildly. With an ominous creak, the temple doors open all the way, revealing monks and acolytes running back and forth.

[JNAProductions]

Spoiler: Insight Check

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(1d20)[19]

Straight roll, baby!

Sasha notices him going to a temple besides his own, but doesn't make much of it-the people are friendly and helpful, and his main temple isn't the nearest one. She starts moving, following Bran to where her help is needed.

[Bladehunter217]

Within the church, Sasha can see a multitude of cots, each with a humanoid laying and moaning in pain or completely still. Bran rushes from cot to cot, casting a few spells and carrying an arm full of bandages. Shouts are passed back and forth, the words hobgoblins, forest and too many repeated multiple times.

[JNAProductions]

Looking around, she attempts to ascertain who's most in need.

Spoiler: OOC

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Medicine check: (1d20)[9]

If she's able to get a good idea, or if someone directs her, she finds the two most injured. She holds her hands out, one to each of them, and channels her power.

Spoiler: OOC

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Casting a Twinned Cure Wounds at level 1.

Heal them for (1d8+3)[8] HP each.

Down one SP and one 1st level slot.