Barrow of the Forgotten King (IC)

[NeonBlack]

OOC thread

Early autumn should be a time for celebration and happiness in the quiet and prosperous small town of Kingsholm. It's the time of harvest, and the harvest festivities that follow are usually enjoyed by the population as what they are: their last chance to revel in the pleasure of food, music and dance before the relentless winter comes back again, bringing cold, snow and little reason to go outside and party.

Not this year. As you enter the town (each of you alone and unaware of the others), the faces that stare back at you show signs of fear and confusion. This people has been struck by an unexpected calamity, and it came from where they least expected it. All of you have heard the rumours: something has happened in the old graveyard on the hills north of town. You don't know the details yet, but there's talk about a whole family disappearing there without a trace. You also manage to catch some fragments on hope in some people's conversations: the town sentinels were sent to investigate, and they should report back soon with whatever news they find. But behind that hope, there's also an even deeper fear. Since it's been almost two days since the guards entered the cemetery. And they haven't returned. Not yet.

The mood at the town's Inn, called the Coronet and Cabbage Inn, reflects the same feelings of worry and fear. The locals drink alone, staring at their mugs, and conversations are spare and brief, and usually spoken in murmurs. You all arrive and order your food and drink, tired and weary after a long trip. Some of you try to chat up with some of the patrons, but learn very little new about the situation. In the end, the gloomy atmosphere gets to you too, and decide to give up and try your luck outside once you've finished your meal, maybe with one of the local authorities, whoever they may be.

All the while, you can't help but notice that the innkeeper, a tall man of broad shoulders, stares intensely from time to time at each of you, as if trying to piece something together from your looks. Just when you're ready to stand up and ask him if you have something offensive painted on your forehead, a brief commotion arises from the back door. A woman dressed in the uniform of a town guard and a prosperous-looking dwarf enter the inn, and go directly to talk in whispers with the innkeeper, who listens, nods vigorously, and points at each of you. After another brief exchange, the innkeeper walks to each of you, and asks you to meet him and the newcomers on a small private room behind the bar. Intrigued, you follow them.

As you sit down around a small table, still holding your drinks in your hands, the big man closes the door behind himself, then turns to you, and speaks:

"Are you mercenaries?", he asks. He glares at you with dark eyes as if challenging you to deny it. "Are you adventurers? We need brave and capable folk, right now, and we're willing to pay!".

[Saihyol]

Segan spends a moment looking around at the strange group gathered in the room, noticing the symbol of Pelor displayed proudly on one of the men and the woman, both of whom seem heavily armed. He could have sworn they weren’t together, but maybe there was a connection…

“Not a mercenary good sir and just passing through these parts. Some financial recompense is always welcome for dangerous deeds and it seems that there is a mystery a-foot and there is nothing that interests those who serve Yair more keenly than a mystery.” The word ‘mystery’ seems to light a fire in Segan’s eyes and it is obvious he is eager to investigate.

“I would be delighted to assist you, allow me to introduce myself. I am Segan Robes, and you are?”

[TwoCents]

Martina Kempinard

Tina's eyes shone with excitement as she walked into the private room. She twitched like a trout on the line at the word "mercenaries" but forced herself to relax.

She stepped forward and bowed with a flourish, or at least as much of a flourish as her breastplate allowed. "Sir! I am Martina Kempinard of the village of Skilapul, sworn to the service of the great god Pelor. I am here to help, if a strong right arm and sharp sword can be useful!" She looked embarrassed for a moment and then mumbled, "Ah, and I am always willing to earn some coin in any good enterprise. Oats and lamp oil and rations and stuff, you know..."

[Benejeseret]

"Ah," the small man appears somewhat unaccustomed to this role, "an adventurer of a sort I suppose. My order has never been familiar with mercenary work...but I suppose I am no longer truly of my order." He trails slightly toward the end.

"My name is Hren, and if the law of this land requires aid to keep chaos at bay then I am bound to assist as I can."

[Attilargh]

"Mercenary? Yeah, something of the sort. Gadreil is my name, pleased to meet you," the elf says with a slight bow. Yess, I'm going to get paid! Bye-bye, trail rations!

"So, the guards you sent to the graveyard didn't return, hm?" Gadriel tilts his head to the side like a curious bird.

[Gaijin Guy Jim]

Brog Grimapple

Brog wasnt feeling too hot about now, and this is why....
He had been travelling for hours! And after FINALLY reaching the city, he didnt really feel up to making his diguise particularly detailed, and was too thirsty to waste time and energy casting any spells to enhance it. Then it happened, right when he FINALLY GOT AN ALE! People calling him out, the worst thing possible for a man who likes to go unnoticed...he should have just dressed like a peasant!

So here he was, diquised as a young dwaft adventurer, stuck in a room with local officials..."great" he thought. His hood was pulled over his obviously gnomish eyes, and a thick fake dwarf beard was tied to his face. He was wearing platform boot so he at least try to pull off a particularly short dwarf, but you never know what keen eyes can notice.

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Diguise Check (-2 for different race): (1d20+9)[25]

Finally, in a gruff dwarf-like (or he hoped so) voice he said "Mi names Trunir Glasshammer, dwarf treasure finder to be sure. I suppose I could help, but I dont come cheap!"

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Bluff Check:(1d20+7)[8]

"Hey" he thought, "if I get stuck doing work, Im going to get some coin out of it!"

Then he slid his hands into his belt and gave a rueful grin.

[GimliFett]

Mercutio del Bayar

The dark-skinned man with the symbol of Pelor around his neck smiles as Martina introduces herself. He nudges her gently with his elbow. "A fellow Pelorite? Excellent! I was once a novice with the Church, and though my heart was willing, my own talents lay in other areas," he bows gracefully and pats his rapier lightly.

Facing the townsfolk assembled, he bows to them as well, bright white teeth flashing as he continues to smile. "I am Mercutio del Bayar. Humbly at your service. I would have to say adventurer fits me the better of your two labels. Brave and capable? Certainly! I hear there is trouble within your fair town? Or nearabouts? You may count on my assistance!"

Mercutio is lean and willowy, and his dark-skin seems deeply tanned from much time under the sun. He moves with an easy grace, barely affected by his chain shirt. A darkwood shield leans against the seat he took, right next to a travel pack and a longbow. His belt carries a rapier, a sickle and a light mace. It seems he is prepared for many contingencies.

[TwoCents]

Martina

Martina was practically bouncing on her toes, she was so excited. Tina didn't look particularly heroic -- small, slender, with mousy brown hair and brown eyes -- but she felt heroic. She was also just so happy to be out "Doing Good Works" that she could not stand still. She grinned goofily at Mercutio when he mentioned Pelor and stage-whispered, "Hey, 'Once in the Light, always in the Light', as my old dad used to say! Pleased to meetya! This is going to be great!"

[NeonBlack]

The woman in uniform squints at Gadriel, clearly disturbed by his last words. "How do you know...", she utters, before the innkeeper interrupts her. "Relax, Mia. He must have heard the rumours already, even if he just arrived today. I've heard it from at least three different patrons today, and people aren't exactly in a talkative mood lately.". Mia nods, then turns to Gadriel, with a bitter half-smile in her tired-looking face. "Excuse me, sir. Seems like the paranoia that's been floating around here in the last few days finally got to me, too. I'll be thankful of any sort of help you and the rest can give us in this matter.".

"I, too, must ask for your forgiveness", the innkeeper adds. "It's rude of us to ask for your assistance without properly introducing ourselves first. My name's Ian Turbrand, and I'm the owner of this establishment, as you probably have guessed by now. I'm also a member of the town council. The silent guy sitting in that corner", Ian says, winking towards the well-dressed dwarf, who snorts in response, "is also a town councillor, and the owner of the general store, just in front of this building. His name's Gran, Gran Stoutbrace.. After being introduced, Gran stands up, nods slightly towards the strangers, and mutters "Pleased to meet y'all". The dwarf sits again, but his eyes stay fixed on "Trunir". After a moment, he shakes his head, and goes back to his stoic silence, although with a slightly worried look on his face.

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Or, in other words, he made his Sense Motive Check, but he couldn't see through the disguise, and his will to believe that they've finally found some help (and one of them is a fellow dwarf, to boot!) did the rest. Still, he feels uneasy about "Trunir", and he knows he's hiding something, just not exactly what, and the fact the he could be a non-dwarf hasn't even crossed his mind. So be careful. Ian and Mia didn't notice a thing, by the way. Oh, and if anyone wants to try to see through Brog's disguise, roll those Spot and/or Sense Motive checks.

"And this fine lady here", Ian continues, "is the captain of the town's sentinels. Her name's Mia Desarna, and she will now brief you about what's happening in our peaceful town, and why we need your help.". Having finished the introductions, Ian sits in the only free stool, while Mia stands up, clears her throat, and begins her speech.

"Trouble started two days ago. Morgan Yurling, his wife Desiree, and their daughter Tyra, reportedly went to the mausoleum early in the morning to help prepare the interment of Morgan's father, Gunar, recently deceased. They didn't come back. The family servants reported their disappearence to the sentinels, and I immediately sent two of my men to check out the mausoleum and the rest of the graveyard. They... haven't reported back yet. I fear the worst.".

"The graveyard hasn't brough any trouble to the town as long as anyone here can remember. And we have some elderly dwarves living here, so that's quite a lot of time. In fact, the legends about it talk about protective spirits and eternal rest. Nobody here can guess what may have happened there, but noone dares to go and check. In fact, I have forbidden entrance to the graveyard, just in case someone wanders in and... vanishes.".

"We need you to check the graveyard and the mausoleum, find out what's going on there, and if you happen to find any survivors, bring them back home safely. I can't send in any more sentinels: it's only nine of us, and that's counting the two missing. The rest of the town's militia is less prepared than we are, so I don't dare to ask them to go there, either. We need you.".

"Well, that's it", Ian sighs, after waiting for a few seconds to see if Mia had something else to add. "If you have any questions, now's the moment to ask them. We can talk about the reward once you feel that your objective is clear enough".

[GimliFett]

Mercutio del Bayar

Mercutio winks at Martina. "Of course!"

As the town councilors outline the situation, Merc's ever-present smile dims slightly. As the floor is opened to questions, he quickly stands and looks at each of those gathered. "Your haste and brusqueness is understandable in this trying time. Think nothing of it. I think the first order of business is descriptions of the missing: the Yurlings as well as the sentinels." He remains standing, hands clasped at the small of his back.

[Benejeseret]

The young monk remains quiet and observant. His life in the monastery provided few tools for such events. Teamwork, discussions; these were not thought of amongst men used to silent solitude and contemplation.

He has however thought much of the nature of souls, and the motives and ego that drives them. He takes time to study each of the room members.

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sense motive (1d20+3)[16] and spot (1d20+5)[15]

Pray it is only bandits, Hren thinks to himself, with ransom or slavery on their minds...and not some darker source.

[Gaijin Guy Jim]

Flinching under the suspicious eyes of Gran, Brog thinks fast, and decides to switch gears, "Time for some expert acting...hmm....let see...half truths....sympathy...got it!"

After Mia left the adventurers open for questions, Trunir, or Brog rather, hops off his seat and fumbles with his hands uneasily. "Everyone..and Mr Stoutbrace especially, I have a confession to make....I have lied to you!(As he does this a slimy little crocadile tear runs down his face, and he brushes it away quickly) . I am no treasure finder, but a lowly exile, I have shamed the Glasshammer clan and now I am on a journey to earn back what little honour I can. I lied before because of how embarrassing this shame is for me..." He frown a bit then makes a dramatically sorrowful bow, his fake beard brushing the dusty floor. "I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me so that we can start fresh!" He then flashed a winning smile and says "Now that my renewed formalities are out of the way, I do have a question. Now about that reward you mentioned, t'will the coin be silver or gold? Do we get to keep any loot-I mean...artifacts we may find?" He then flashes another smile and waits expectantly.

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Brog is just a compulsive liar! Lets see if admitting he lied but lying even more pays off for him...(Bluff Check)(1d20+7)[24]

[TwoCents]

Martina Kempinard

Trunir, or Brog rather, hops off his seat and fumbles with his hands uneasily. "Everyone..and Mr Stoutbrace especially, I have a confession to make....I have lied to you! <snip> He then flashes another smile and waits expectantly.

Martina stared at Trunir as he confessed, and furrowed her brow in surprise. "Confession? What confession? He's not a treasure hunter... he just wants loot? What am I missing here?"

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Sense Motive: (d20+3)[14]

Martina shook her head in confusion. Waving her hand vaguely, she said, "Well, I hope you feel better for embracing honesty, Trunir, but back to the matter at hand. Captain Mia, you've been wonderfully clear about our mission, but what can you tell us about the missing persons?" She paused for a moment, and carefully pronounced the unfamiliar name, "Mer-cu-tio del Bayar asked for descriptions, and I agree with him that's the first step. And can you tell us about any other peculiar happenings lately? Anything else going on that maybe nobody thought anything of but now thinks might be a little weird?"

[Saihyol]

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Spot (1d20+2)[6] Sense Motive (1d20+2)[21] - Brog

Spot (1d20+2)[22] Sense Motive (1d20+2)[14] Mia, Ian and Gran - do they know more than they are letting on?

Yair's Guidance on the graveyard (1d20+3)[8]

They are a curious group, thinks Segan, Yair has clearly guided him to these folk. The gnome alone offers a wonderful conundrum to unravel, someone who lies about who they are then admits the truth immediately afterwards -some thing interesting there.

"These folk ask valid questions, but I also wonder if there is a map of the graveyard or anyone who knows it well to whom we might speak?"

A copy of the graveyard map might make a fine addition to the temple vaults as I don't believe I have heard anything of this place.

[Attilargh]

The elf seems as interested in the decoration of the room as he is with its other occupants, and his eyes wander around as the others speak. Proverbially speaking, of course.

"I'm afraid the others've asked most of what I was thinking of inquiring." Gadriel says with a grin and a nod at the other speakers. "Oh, and to follow on Lady Martina's question, have any suspicious folks been through here recently? A priest of a foreign god, or mayhaps a wizard?

"I've dabbled a bit in the theory of the arcane, and I can tell not a few mages and magicians are intrigued by ancient graveyards."

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Sense Motive - (1d20)[14]

[NeonBlack]

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Nice roll, "Trunir". No one notices anything suspicious in your speech. Gran's expression dulcifies, and now only shows raw curiosity: expect him to ask you a few questions about your clan and what you did to deserve being exiled after the meeting ends.

Segan: as far as you can see, all three believe in what they're saying, and they don't show any sign of being purposely hiding anything. They are genuinely scared and worried about the whole situation. Oh, and your not-really-bardic knowledge doesn't seem to have much info about the graveyard. It's famous for being really old, and for the mysterious statue of the forgotten king. You can't recall any other details.

"Ah, yes, descriptions.". Ian steps up to the question. "I can help you with that, since I knew the Yurlings quite well. They were human. Morgan, the father, is about 50 years old. Grey hair, or whatever is left of it at least, he's almost completely bald. He's not too tall, but strong, thanks to his years of work at his farm. You see, the Yurlings own one of the biggest farms in town. They're one of the most influent families of all Kingsholm, otherwise they wouldn't be burying their dead in the mausoleum...".

"Where was I? Oh, yes, descriptions. Desiree, Morgan's wife, is a bit younger, around 45. She's a small and quite pretty woman, with long, brown hair. Their daughter, Tyra, is her spitting image, only her hair is a bit darker, and she's somewhat taller. And she's younger, of course. She turned 23 last spring. She's not married, and she still lives with her parents and helps them with the farm duties. Gods, I hope they're all alright...".

Once Ian is done speaking, Mia describes the two missing sentinels in detail. The most experienced of the two, according to her, is a human woman called Zeera, a short-haired redhead with a unusually strong complexion. Her companion was Dornal, a young dwarf, who had only joined the sentinels a year and a half ago. He came from Gran's home city, a nearby dwarven settlement called Gleamhall. His hair and beard are pitch black, and he's the only member of the sentinels who wields a battle axe.

"The sentinels haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary happening in town in the last few months", she continues, "nor in the graveyard or its surroundings. And no wizards or foreign clerics, unless they kept an extremely low profile. We send occasional patrols to the cemetery, just to check if anything breaks down, or if a hungry wolf has become desperate enough to try and jump the fences looking for buried food. You see, the graveyard is more than a mile long, and almost as wide, and it's just a bunch of ancient gravestones and statues scrambled across the hills, so a map of it wouldn't be that useful. Its only outstanding features are the mausoleum, which is really close to the main entrance, and the statue of the forgotten king, which lies around a mile north of the mausoleum. Maybe you've heard some tales about him.".

"Anyway, maybe you should start by checking out the mausoleum. It seems that the problems originated there, since that's where the Yurlins were going when they disappeared, and the first place Dornal and Zeera were told to check. We don't have a map of the graveyard, but we could draw you a map of the mausoleum. We inspect it periodically as part of our patrols around the graveyard. We will also lend you the keys to the main doors, since they're always kept closed and locked. We don't want our kids to go there to play, you know.".

It's Ian's turn to speak again. "And, since sir Glasshammer seems to be impatient to know the details, let's talk about your reward. I can offer, in behalf of the town of Kingsholm, a reward of fifty gold pieces to each of you, if you agree to inspect the mausoleum and find out what happened to our missing citizens. Moreover, we promise you five times that reward if you manage to find out who or what is behind these disappearances, and put an end to their mischief. That would be a total of three hundred gold pieces for each of you. I'm sorry, but this is all we can afford to offer.".

"Also, I'm sure there's no need to say this, but I'd like to ask you to be respectful of the dead. Most important families in Kingsholm have their dead ancestors resting in that mausoleum. Mine included. So we'd like you to respect the tombs and what's inside of them as much as it's possible. Besides that, you can keep whatever you find in any foe you may be forced to fight". He gives "Trunir" a worried look, given the dwarf's stated lust for treasure. "I hope you'll find this deal acceptable. I really do.".

[GimliFett]

Mercutio del Bayar

Merc bows respectfully, then replies while arching an eyebrow at the greedy dwarf. "That seems more than fair, good folk! If you can get that map and the keys you mentioned, I believe we can get started immediately, yes?" He asks as he looks at each of the other adventurers.

[Gaijin Guy Jim]

"Trunir" nod his head agreeably. He gives a slight bow and says in a deep, gruff voice "T'will do nicely, and take me one step closer to reclaiming my status as a member of my clan! Any measure of gold or fame given to them will likely slacken their anger at my...misbehavior. Besides, its like what my great great grandmum told me once 'Any good deed is always'....well, she sort of died right before finishing that sentence, but ye get the point-bless her heart!" He then frowns a little, but soon smiles again and begins to grip his pack tighter-excited and ready to get on his way...and out of a crowded room full of watchful eyes...I didnt know lies could be this tirering! I must be out of practice...

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Yet another bluff check-will the lies ever cease? Stay tuned!
(Bluff Check)(1d20+7)[25]

[Saihyol]

"That sounds most generous. Given the time perhaps my companions and I should become better acquainted and prepared before heading off into the unknown. As you are no doubt aware knowledge is the source of all power and it would be foolish for us to venture into this situation without some better idea of the capabilities of our companions, careful preparation and a good night's rest. I take it you can provide lodgings..?"

[TwoCents]

Martina

Martina bowed her head in apparent thought for a few minutes as the others spoke,

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Dun dun duh... Detect Evil!
The rest of the post is based on the assumption that there are no sources of evil in the room. If there are, of course, Martina will probably do something stupid and heroic...

and then said, "I think 50 gold is just fine, Captain, but I will need a place to stay for me and my mule, Fussbudget. Can we bunk with the sentinels? I don't think I need to take Fussy, since we're just going to the graveyard, and I'd like to know he was someplace safe. Oh, and er, if we could have a bit of an advance on that payment I'd like to make a donation at the temple before we go. Just for a bit of prayer, for guidance and safety, you know."

[Attilargh]

Gadriel

"More than fair indeed." Gadriel glances sideways at the "dwarf" and then at the priest of Yair. "I personally advocate moving as soon as possible. I'm as ready as I'll ever be, and find the idea of spending today doing much nothing not particularly appealing."

[GimliFett]

Mercutio del Bayar

Shaking his head, Merc turns to look at Segan. "I am afraid I must disagree. I believe time is of the essence, with five people missing, yes?" He tilts his head a bit to the right as he finishes.

"For spellcasters, I can understand the need for proper preparation, but if it is at all possible, I should like to go sooner rather than later. We can get acquainted as we travel, yes?"

[NeonBlack]

Ian shakes his head too, inadvertently mimicking Mercutio's gesture. "I'm afraid I must agree with your two companions, sir... Segan, was it? Time is at a premium. Right now, the Yurlings and the missing sentinels could be wounded, or held prisoner. I'd suggest acting as quickly as possible.".

"That said, if you need a place to rest, eat or store your belongings or mounts, look no further than this building. I will gladly provide free lodging for all of you for as long as you decide to stay in our town. It's the least I can do for you after your offer to help us.".

Meanwhile, Mia excuses herself in order to fetch the keys and the map to the mausoleum. Gran, the silent dwarf, stands up and approaches Martina. "I'll be glad to give you a few coins in advance of your payment, lass. But,", and his face shows his discontent as he says this, "you may find that the local church is not up to Pelor's standards. Or Moradin's, for that matter. You see, the only priest residing in Kingsholm right now is a halfling, and he happens to be a fervent follower of Olidammara. He's a fine enough lad, and helps the town whenever he's needed, but... you know, The God of Rogues may not be exactly what you're looking for. Your choice, I guess...". He pats the paladin in the arm before handing her 10 gold pieces, and goes back to lurk in his corner, waiting for Mia to come back.

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The Captain will be coming back shortly with the map and the keys, and she will be expecting you to be ready and guide you to the graveyard's entrance. So, decisions. Leave now, or wait for later?

EDIT: D'oh, completely forgot about Martina's Detect E-e-e-evil. You see no evil inside the room, as expected.

[Benejeseret]

"There is little I need, and can depart immediately," the lad finally speaks up. He stands and leans against his staff.

[GimliFett]

Mercutio del Bayar

The swashbuckler looks to the others assembled in the room expectantly, awaiting their decisions. "What is it to be, then?" he asks as he lifts his pack onto his back and takes his shield in hand.

[Gaijin Guy Jim]

"Trunir" looks off into the distance, silent for once, and says "Best be off as soon as possible." He then grins a little, and begins to caress his "beard".

[Saihyol]

Standing Segan offers a bow to the Ian, Mia and Gran.

"Well it is not my usual habit to rush into such situations, but given the lost townsfolk and my companions eagerness I am prepared to move more quickly."

Lifting his pack from the floor he slings it over his shoulder and likewise the crossbow that was rested on it. Shifting the weight till they sit comfortably on studded armour he wears, he finally takes up his mace and hangs this from a hook on his belt.

Fishing out a small silver pendant he kisses the symbol of Yair - an owl clenching a scroll and whispers.

"Grant us wisdom.

As soon as we have details of the mausoleum I am ready to go."

[TwoCents]

Martina Kempinard, human paladin of Pelor

Ian [says,] "That said, if you need a place to rest, eat or store your belongings or mounts, look no further than this building. I will gladly provide free lodging for all of you for as long as you decide to stay in our town. It's the least I can do for you after your offer to help us.

"Thank you, Master Ian! That is both honorable and generous."

Gran, the silent dwarf, stands up and approaches Martina. "I'll be glad to give you a few coins in advance of your payment, lass. But,", and his face shows his discontent as he says this, "you may find that the local church is not up to Pelor's standards. Or Moradin's, for that matter. You see, the only priest residing in Kingsholm right now is a halfling, and he happens to be a fervent follower of Olidammara. He's a fine enough lad, and helps the town whenever he's needed, but... you know, The God of Rogues may not be exactly what you're looking for. Your choice, I guess...". He pats the paladin in the arm before handing her 10 gold pieces, and goes back to lurk in his corner, waiting for Mia to come back.

Martina looked troubled for a moment and thought hard about what would be the best solution to this conundrum. She prayed for guidance, and thought of an answer. "Master Gran, I know what to do. Take these 5 coins and give them to a needy family in Pelor's name. I can trust a follower of the Dwarffather to choose rightly. I will set these five aside to go to the next temple of Pelor we find." She smiled in relief. "Now that's done. Let's be on our way!" She turned to Mercutio and the others. "Will you collect the keys and map while I get Fussbudget settled in the stable?"

[GimliFett]

Mercutio del Bayar

The swashbuckler grins. "But of course! We will meet outside!" Bowing gracefully, Merc draws his rapier and salutes the councillors before quickly resheathing the blade.

[Attilargh]

Gadriel

Gadriel stands up and stretches his back. "Yes, yes. Get going now, lest we shall experience the backbone-chilling sensation of spending a night in a graveyard. Shoo, I say," he finishes, feigning impatience. He then adjusts something in his left sleeve, pats his pockets and flexes his fingers before sitting on the back of his chair.