The empty graves of the north - a Forgotten Realms campaign

Game Master JohnLocke


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3 Tarsakh, 1358 DR

At the best of times, Leilon was never a restful town. Orc attacks, coastal raids from Luskan, swarms of bog-rotted undead from the Mere and the occasional mining accident all meant that life here was tense, potentially dangerous.

This is not the best of times.

All around the town, yellowed parchment notices have gone up. "Malfell has finally decided to do something!" go the whispers as the town clerks nail the bills up in public spaces. They read:

Brave souls needed!
The town of Leilon calls for brave adventurers to undertake a journey to the mines to our east. We need you to find our missing men, as well as secure the mines proper for Leilon. Sturdy souls with combat experience are preferred. Please assemble at the Drowning Delve at noon today, where the deputy mayor, the honorable Zacharius Malfell, will select candidates and brief same on all relevant details.

Signed this day, etc etc

Hastily scrawled on the bottom of each notice: 300 GP reward.

The Drowning Delve itself seems a goodly establishment, dedicated primarily to the traffic passing through Leilon. Offering private rooms upstairs, a common sleeping area on the main floor for those of lesser means, and a tavern known for good drink and adequate food, the Delve is seldom quiet. For the past two weeks, as the fighting has intensified between the Orcish hordes and the Lords' Alliance, a number of caravans have tarried, waiting for reports of a lull in the hostilities before braving the dangerous roads.

As you enter the establishment, the sound of drums and cymbals meets you. A lovely gypsy girl dances to the rythmic beat for the customers, twirling in her long skirt and playing the tambourine in accompaniment to her fluid motions. Another gypsy girl - no less lovely - is working the audience for tips while a young man, handsome and smiling, plays the drums. The place is packed with people, mostly come to volunteer or at least, hoping to catch a glimpse of the men and women willing to put themselves in harms' way. The man at the bar watches the gypsy dancer glumly as the barmaid - a pretty brunette - tries to see if any of the enrapted spectators wants to buy a drink.

You guys may now meet and mingle!


Male Aasimar Cleric 2 [HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 | T: 12 | FF: 15 | CMB: +2 | CMD: 14 | Fort: +3 | Ref: +2 | Will: +7 | Init +2 | Perc: + 10| Speed: 20'| XP: 535 ]

"...shouldn't be killing them out of hand, that's all I'm saying," the taller - and thinner - of two men entering the 'Delve was speaking to his companion. His tone was eminently reasonable, as if he was in the process of making a point he'd made any number of times before, and was likely to make any number of times again, without feeling the slightest bit bothered by the need to do so.

The sound and heat of the room and the crush of bodies within it brought his words to a stop, as he removed the wide-brimmed leather hat from his head, revealing a plain, lightly-tanned face under a mop of plain brown hair that he ran one hand through roughly as he surveyed the room. His eyes were an equally unremarkable brown, but they seemed to take in everything in the room with a swiftness and completeness that would have been unsettling to anyone who might have been attempting to hide from him in the crowd.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

In short order, he found a relatively less crowded spot near the bar, nodded to his companion to indicate his destination, and began patiently working his way through the crowd, being careful not to push harder than was necessary to make his way forward. His heavy leather coat - covering him from neck to knees - he held close, trying to keep it from brushing into the faces of those seated at benches or chairs, or knocking over any improperly attended drinks.

"Try to be polite, Innocent," he muttered to his companion as their progress stalled briefly, and he heard the tell-tale sound of the shorter man's frustration behind him.


HP: 24/26 | Studied Target: none
Stats:
(AC 17, T 11, FF 16) | CMD 17 (+4 vs. bull rush/trip) | Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 (+3 vs. poison, spells, and SLAs) | Init +1 | Percept +7
Trap Perception:
+9 (+11 for stonework)

From the entryway comes a stranger's cheer to add to the chorus of celebrants already gathered within The Delve. He might well be the most roadworn sight to ever grace the establishment. At present, it seems likely that a horse trough is the closest thing to a bath the dwarf has seen in tendays beyond counting. Muck and mud cakes most of him from the waist down, some of which having managed to find its way into the stout fellow's copper-hued hair and beard. Despite his ragged appearance, he seems to be in good spirits, waving about one of the posted notices in his right hand as if it were a voucher for a free hot bath.

His accent is thick as a blood sausage as he calls out over the crowd in a rumble of a voice, "Worry ye nay longer, lads an' lassies! Yer hero be here an' right eager ta bandy steel with what ails ye. Dargrim Rumblecask, at yer service!" Something between pride and insanity gleams in the dwarf's eyes, which seize the brunette serving-girl in short order. "Speakin' o' ales. . . yer hero is a wee parched, aye? Ah dinnae suppose ye've a fine brew fit fer me hand?" His hands reach for his coin-purse as he closes the distance to the girl. Wide as his frame is, the crowd's forced to part before him with a murmur of indignant cries, but Dargrim doesn't seem to notice or particularly care.


The barmaid, with a mischievous grin, bends down so her face is level with Dargrim's. In slow, measured tones she says (with barely contained laughter): I can't understand a word you just said. Do you speak common, Master Dwarf? COMMON. Did you want to order a water to quench your thirst? WATER. Yes, the wet stuff. Nod once for yes!

The man behind the bar rolls his eyes, clearly familiar with the girls' brand of humour. Vanessa, just get our guest an ale, you cheeky imp!

You need a bath. Vanessa whispers, before eventually turning to get the dwarf his ale.

@ Ulciscor:
Nothing seems amiss. There is tension in the air, but that's likely anticipation of Malfell's arrival and selection of the town's champions. The gypsy dancer is performing a Calishite belly dance, instead of the less-choreographed gypsy style.


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

"Bloody, talentless hacks. Send me on some fool's errand, will they? 'Oh, Dorn. This requires a delicate touch only one such as you can possibly accomplish.’ Pfft! They were buttering me up like a loaf of bread.”

“And now here I am in the middle of – actually, I don’t even know. You! Yes, you there. The boy with the shovel. Where in the realms are we?”

“Um, this is Leilon, sir,” a waif of a boy answered.

Dorn searched his memory. “The mining town?”

"Well, yes, sir. Although, lately –"

Dorn walked off without a second thought.

“Gods! In the middle of Leilon. How did they ever sell this to me? A priceless tome from a lich, just hanging about in a mining town? Yes. Very likely,” he bemoaned. ”If I find out they enchanted me, there’ll be hell to pay, I swear.”

Dorn observed a man, tacking up a handbill to a fence. He would have walked past it, except that he saw “300 gold” from the corner of his eye. He read the contents over, and scratched the shadow of stubble on his chin as he contemplated them.

Three-hundred lions wasn’t a fortune in and of itself. But it would certainly be enough to get him back to Waterdeep comfortably.

He nodded to himself and set off toward the Drowning Delve.


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

Before Dorn walks into the Drowning Delve, he takes a moment to affect a confident swagger. The kind that screamed, ”I am a great and powerful wizard. Cower before my magnificence.”

He suddenly wished he had kept his quarterstaff. It made the effect all the more dramatic, especially with conjured lights floating above you. But he’d lost the thing two inns ago and had never gotten around to replacing it.

He used a cantrip to press his robes. One needed to look presentable after all. And then finally he pushed open the door of the tavern and walked in regally. He took a moment to stand by the door, both to survey the room and allow the other patrons to look at him with the light of the noon day sun at his back.

He lamented the lack of double doors. A dramatic entrance was amplified by the number of doors one opened at once. That was a scientifically provable fact.

He waited a moment longer, but the wind didn’t pick up enough to give his cape a good billow. Alas. Finally he walked in, and took his place at a table sitting behind a dwarf. He placed a silver on his table. “A horn of mead, if you please.”

After the barmaid took his coin, Dorn wrinkled his nose at the dwarf sitting nearby him. Gods, did he wrestle an Otyugh or something? He smells like rotted spell components.

Dorn used a cantrip to make the air smell like lavender around him.


HP: 24/26 | Studied Target: none
Stats:
(AC 17, T 11, FF 16) | CMD 17 (+4 vs. bull rush/trip) | Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 (+3 vs. poison, spells, and SLAs) | Init +1 | Percept +7
Trap Perception:
+9 (+11 for stonework)

"A bath, be it? If ye be offerin', I'll nay decline, lass! Huehuehue!" Dargrim gives Vanessa a friendly wink before looking down and behind to see the muddy trail he has left in his wake. He had taken the time to wash up on what few occasions the opportunity was afforded, usually taking a dip in a stream or a pond secluded in some hidden vale or glade. With the orcs raising so much of a fuss in the area, sticking to the roads became problematic at times, especially at night. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen the opportunity to look to cleaning his clothes and gear for well over a month now. He would have to remedy that soon. A hero needed to look the part, and his mud-caked visage didn't lend itself well to that pursuit.

Hearing the voice behind him call for mead, Dargrim instinctively wheels around to take a glance at the newcomer. He arches a brow when the man weaves a spell right there in front of his eyes, the dwarf's nostrils flaring as he snorts in the sudden introduction of a pleasant smelling fragrance. "Yer one o' them what weave spells, aye?" Dargrim approaches the table, scanning Dorn with an appraising eye. "Fixin' t'rescue them what's lost in yonder mines, then? Figger ah'll get t'know me company afore we be dispatched t'task properly. Ye've th'pleasure o' bein' spake at by Dargrim Rumblecask, friend!"


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

Dorn blinked several times as the fragrant dwarf got closer and spoke to him. He then needed a moment to understand the dwarf's heavy accent.

"Uh, yes. Indeed. I am the esteemed wizard Dorn Kindleheart. At your service, Master Rumblecask. I am here as a representative of my guild, The Silver Scryers. We're based in Waterdeep. I was in town on other business for the Guild. But it was not immediately pressing, and as such I have pledged to aid the good people of -- blast, what was it again? -- Leilon!" he concluded with a snap of his fingers. "That's it. Leilon."


Male Gnome
VITALS:
AC: 22(23), T: 12(13), FF: 21(22); HP: 65/65; F:8, R:3, W:1; CMD 19; CMB +6 ; Init: 1 ; Perc:+9
Barbarian 2
SKILLS:
Acrobatics -2 (-10 to jump), Craft (armor) +12, Craft (blacksmith) +15, Craft (weapons) +13, Perception +9, Survival +7, Swim +9

This place was loud. It was good. But it lacked the rhythm of his shop. There was no rhythm. No melody. Just noise. The noise wasnt bad. Back home there was always noise. Good thing too.

The gnome sat at his table. his hammer next to him. Yes. It was big. But that didnt matter. He was here to make a better one. One that will ring through the years of his family. He might be a Titanblade, but a hammer suited him more

He had flaming red hair. Short but wild. Most of his clothing was animal fur and hide. He looked out of place. But he was use to it. People usually made fun of the way he looked. But he soon proved that size didnt matter much


Male Human Magus (Bladebound) 2 (HP 22/22 | AC 16/17 w/Exp | T 12/13 w/Exp | FF 14 | CMD 15 | F +5 | R +2 | W +3 | Init +2 | Per +5)

"Your point is clear, friend," Ulciscor's companion grumbles from his shadow. "But it's like that Waterdhavian phrase I learned a fortnight ago: just desserts, they are fond to say."

Innocent lowers his cowl, more out of habit than any want to be seen or noticed. And to look at the man, one would not otherwise give him much thought. Firm, and with a solid soldier's build, he is otherwise nondescript save for the shadow of kohl beneath his eyes and to those sensitive to motivations a quiet aura of menace communicated through a casual scowl here or there or a baleful glance. He could be just any other adventurer seeking a quick 300 gold. "Ironic, though, since it is sweeter for the server than the recipient."

Innocent abides Ulciscor's passive approach towards the bar with some patience until their progress is stalled for a third time, at which point he slips up in front of the priest and abruptly broadens his shoulders to stride forward through the crowd without overmuch concern for the inattentive he brushes brusquely past. He had long ago learned that most people in a crowd will sooner move than be moved, and any who met him shoulder to shoulder with a glare earned just enough respect for a warrior's grip to the arm in passing and an acquiescence from unnecessary conflict.

Once they are at the bar, he looks to Ulciscor, unsmiling. "Your turn to cover the tab."

He watches the crowd for a short time until Dargrim makes his entrance with aplomb. He was filthy yet uncharacteristically sober for a dwarf. Ah, but then he goes about remedying that before his musk had even reached the bar. He leans over to Ulciscor. "Five gold says the dwarf is chosen for the mission and is also the first casualty, but takes at least...five orcs down with him first. One for each coin. Agreed?"


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

The wind was chill this far north, but you wouldn't know it to look at the sun elf who hopped onto the dock from a small trading ship. He allowed the breeze to blow back his cloak and his long platinum hair as he threw back his head and took a deep breath. It was as though he had been away from the fresh air too long, and was exulting in it - though "fresh" was a relative word at the docks, even in a small town like Leilon.

Nevertheless, it wasn't far from the truth. It hadn't been long since Lioslan last set foot in the North, not really - just a few decades - but it felt much longer. Looking around, he wore a satisfied grin. Who would have thought that he'd be so pleased to reach a collection of human hovels? It's not the destination, it's the journey, he thought. And my journey is only beginning.

Regaining control over his expression, Lioslan paid the half-elven captain the remainder of the sum they had agreed upon, and politely wished him well in his further endeavors. It had been a stroke of luck to find him at Evermeet, and they had slipped away from the island without any trouble. Even better, the captain wouldn't be returning to Evermeet anytime soon. Tracks well covered, Lioslan thought with a more decorous faint smile as his immaculate boots stepped off the docks and into the mud of the North.

It didn't take much effort to find a sign of the Seldarine's favor for his mission. Pulling down a flyer, his golden eyes gleamed as he read the paper, then folded it and tucked it into a pocket. A glance at the sun told him all he needed to know.

Just before highsun, Lioslan strode into the Drowning Delve, a warning look more or less enough to clear his path to the bar as the locals stared.

Stare all you like. The Retreat won't last forever, he thought as he approached the adventurers - what else could they be? - at the bar. The smell hit him first, overpowering even the smell of the tight-packed tavern. Sweat and... lavender? The source of the sweat, at least, was clear. He nodded to the dwarf by the bar, keeping a decent distance as he introduced himself. "Well met, good dwarf. I am Lioslan Shaelara. May I ask your name, in kind?" The words were respectful, though Lioslan did look a little askance at all the mud.

He didn't bother introducing himself to the others. Time would tell which of the gathered would become his companions on this endeavor. Of course he would be chosen, and the dwarf. Anything else would be madness. He did let his gaze wander just a bit, judging how many of those present were adventurers.


The barmaid - Vanessa - brings Dorn his ale and smirks as she sets it down. Nice perfume, Butch! she winks at Dorn before rolling her eyes at Dargrim.

@ anyone at the bar: The barkeep - an older human man in his fifties, perhaps, with graying hair but still a trim, fit build - approaches. What'll ya have, lads? Looking to sign on for Malfell's little rescue mission?


Male Aasimar Cleric 2 [HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 | T: 12 | FF: 15 | CMB: +2 | CMD: 14 | Fort: +3 | Ref: +2 | Will: +7 | Init +2 | Perc: + 10| Speed: 20'| XP: 535 ]

Ulciscor nodded to his companion and ordered two mugs of ale from the barkeep, dropping the requisite coins on the bar.

Then he turned to his companion with a narrow - eyed smile.

"Define 'casualty,'" he said.


Male Aasimar Cleric 2 [HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 | T: 12 | FF: 15 | CMB: +2 | CMD: 14 | Fort: +3 | Ref: +2 | Will: +7 | Init +2 | Perc: + 10| Speed: 20'| XP: 535 ]
DM Locke wrote:

@ anyone at the bar: The barkeep - an older human man in his fifties, perhaps, with graying hair but still a trim, fit build - approaches. What'll ya have, lads? Looking to sign on for Malfell's little rescue mission?

Ulciscor - one of those blessed with the ability to carry on two conversations at once - glanced over his shoulder at the barkeep and, while waiting for Innocent's definition, nodded.

"The chance to assist - for a just reward - is one that we feel compelled to take advantage of. And quite timely. My companion has been looking for just such an opportunity."


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None
DM Locke wrote:
The barmaid - Vanessa - brings Dorn his ale and smirks as she sets it down. Nice perfume, Butch! she winks at Dorn before rolling her eyes at Dargrim.

Dorn winks back at the barmaid while sipping his mead.

He was nursing his drink when the Lioslan fellow made his introductions to Dargrim. That miffed him. Did he not notice the well-pressed, lavender-scented, dark blue wizard robes?

He huffed and the foam bubbles of his drink turned bright red for a moment before fading back to white.

-Posted with Wayfinder


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

In the most unconsciously infuriating manner, Lioslan paid no heed to the wizard huffing into his mead, nor did he order a drink from the barkeep - after all, what swill could one expect in such an establishment? But he deigned to nod to the barkeep politely, leaving it unclear whether he was answering his question or simply acknowledging his presence.

However, he did listen to the responses of those he deemed adventurers who had gathered. It would be good to know their number if they were to run into any orc raiders. Hah, if everyone present came along, they might as well pick up their deadwood houses and move all of Leilon to the mines.

Through the shifting crowd, he spotted a fire-haired gnome, and wondered at his appearance in a way he hadn't at Dargrim's. He listened with half an ear to the conversation of those at the bar as he scanned the crowd for the deputy mayor - not eavesdropping, of course. Simply keeping his ears open. Much as he had missed the North, he knew trouble could brew here in an instant.

To be honest, maybe he had missed that, as well.


Male Human Magus (Bladebound) 2 (HP 22/22 | AC 16/17 w/Exp | T 12/13 w/Exp | FF 14 | CMD 15 | F +5 | R +2 | W +3 | Init +2 | Per +5)

Innocent plants his boots on the bar floor and leans forward, back hunched and fingers clasped together as he watches the gregarious dwarf cavort with the locals with an interest that went beyond mere wagering.

"On the ground and bleeding," he clarifies. "I daresay he wouldn't go down any other way."

When Ulciscor references him to the bartender, he frowns, but says nothing. As much as he didn't like being pitched as a person in a position in need...well, that's exactly where he was.


Male Aasimar Cleric 2 [HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 | T: 12 | FF: 15 | CMB: +2 | CMD: 14 | Fort: +3 | Ref: +2 | Will: +7 | Init +2 | Perc: + 10| Speed: 20'| XP: 535 ]

Ulciscor smiled as Innocent made the mistake he had been hoping for. Innocent was smart enough not to have said "dead," but "on the ground and bleeding" was specific enough, for Ulciscor's purposes.

"I'll take that wager. Agreed. I'll just have to make sure I heal him more than anyone else, until someone else falls down bleeding, that is."

He chuckled. Then glanced at the others gathering.

"What think you of the elf?" He nodded towards the elf who had come in and started talking to the dwarf they'd just wagered on. Then eyed the peacock in what appeared to be wizard's robes that had never seen the inside of a laboratory. "Or the one who wants to be a wizard? His robes are awfully clean and neat for a profession that is either in a laboratory or delving into ancient ruins, looking for power. And he carries no staff." Ulciscor smiled and shook his head. "I suspect it's going to be an interesting next few days."


Male Gnome
VITALS:
AC: 22(23), T: 12(13), FF: 21(22); HP: 65/65; F:8, R:3, W:1; CMD 19; CMB +6 ; Init: 1 ; Perc:+9
Barbarian 2
SKILLS:
Acrobatics -2 (-10 to jump), Craft (armor) +12, Craft (blacksmith) +15, Craft (weapons) +13, Perception +9, Survival +7, Swim +9

Gyro looks around. It was getting more crowded by the second. He was getting antsy. Might as well occupy himself with something. Since smithing is a bit out of the question
"Ale please! Either a few or one of your strongest! I need to clear my head!"

-Posted with Wayfinder


Vanessa hurries forward with a gigantic mug of ale. Placing it on the table with an audible thud, the pretty barmaid tucks a strand of brown hair behind her ear before commenting sardonically: Yes, ale, the great clearer of heads and straightener of thoughts. May your decisions always be tinted by it's honey-coloured goodness! She turns quickly, her long skirt flaring slightly, looking for other customers to sass.

The barkeep nods to Ulciscor as he cleans a glass. Uh huh. And the gold never hurts, right?


Male Human Magus (Bladebound) 2 (HP 22/22 | AC 16/17 w/Exp | T 12/13 w/Exp | FF 14 | CMD 15 | F +5 | R +2 | W +3 | Init +2 | Per +5)

"Prettier than many women I've met," Innocent says of the elf, watching him for a while with an entirely different kind of interest from the dwarf. "Probably more trustworthy, too."

Innocent leans against the bar again, nodding to the barkeep with an unspoken "aye". He shrugs a bit at the priest's observation of Dorn. "The most terrible people I've known are dedicated arcanists. Those robes will be stained with blood someday. One way or another. But here we sit in judgment of them. What, I wonder, might they be whispering of us? What kind of figures do you think we cut?"


HP: 24/26 | Studied Target: none
Stats:
(AC 17, T 11, FF 16) | CMD 17 (+4 vs. bull rush/trip) | Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 (+3 vs. poison, spells, and SLAs) | Init +1 | Percept +7
Trap Perception:
+9 (+11 for stonework)

Dargrim looks up to the silver-capped elf with open disdain and a deep frown. His demeanor soon cracks and gives way to a raspy exhale of laughter. He removes a muddy glove to extend a thick, meaty hand in greeting. "Pleased t'meet ya, Lioslan! Ye've th'pleasure o' addressin' Dargrim Rumblecask. 'Ere t'put right what's wrong, as th'rest o' yens be, no doubt." His eyes survey the gathered crowd of people encircling the dancing troupe, sizing up the likely among them to be capable of even lifting a weapon with a proper heft. "An' judgin' by th'prospects ah be seein', slim pickins indeed. More fer th'rest o' us, then!"


Male Aasimar Cleric 2 [HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 | T: 12 | FF: 15 | CMB: +2 | CMD: 14 | Fort: +3 | Ref: +2 | Will: +7 | Init +2 | Perc: + 10| Speed: 20'| XP: 535 ]
DM Locke wrote:
The barkeep nods to Ulciscor as he cleans a glass. Uh huh. And the gold never hurts, right?

Ulciscor glanced over his shoulder at the barkeep with an easy smile. "I did say 'for a just reward,' right?" He gave the man a friendly wink, before turning to his companion's question. A question that he appeared to give rather serious consideration to.

"I believe we cut the figures of a handsome, if somewhat under-nourished, instrument of holy righteousness, and his - if not conventionally attractive, then certainly not repellant - loyal sidekick." He chuckled, then let his face grow somewhat more serious.

"In honesty, my friend, I do not know what they may think of us. The tall man with the big, floppy hat, and his grumpy, khol-eyed companion. Who do little but lean quietly against the bar and whisper between themselves about everyone else. Perhaps we should 'make an effort,' and mingle a bit? Which would you prefer? The pretty elf, or the soon-to-be-blood-soaked wizard? I'll speak to the other."


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

Without any appreciable hesitation, Lioslan reached down to clasp the dwarf's arm. "I've not had the pleasure of encountering any Rumblecasks in my travels before, Dargrim. Perhaps you will regale me with your clan's greatest accomplishments once we have, as the humans say, sorted the wheat from the chaff, here." Though his white sleeve remained perfectly clean thanks to Dargrim's foresight in taking off his glove, his hand had gotten a bit grimy from clasping the dwarf's arm. He casually wiped it on a scrap of clean cloth as he looked around. A perceptive viewer might have noticed how, far from being repelled by the crowded, dim tavern as one might expect of a sun elf, he appeared to be enjoying the atmosphere - at least, if his small smile was any indicator.

"I fear that, as you said, there are few enough adventurers for this task in little Leilon. However, there is at least one here who knows of the Art." He nodded at the grumpy wizard, turning to include him in their conversation. "That will be useful, should you have an interest in joining us. I am Lioslan Shaelara. By what name are you called, wizard?" He didn't bother translating his name into the common tongue; such affectations were only for the benefit of uncultured peasants, which he presumed one gifted in the Art would not need.

Looks like Ulciscor and Innocent will be talking to a group, unless they single us out. But who wouldn't want to single out a pretty elf? ;P


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

Dorn visibly puffed up.

"I am Dorn Kindleheart. I am a wizard in good standing at the Silver Scryers Guild in Waterdeep. I was in town on some unrelated guild business, when I overheard of the struggles of the good people of -- this town. I thought it important to lend a hand."

-Posted with Wayfinder


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

Sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 7

Lioslan raised an eyebrow at Dorn's explanation of his background and business - the man didn't need to justify himself to anyone - but nodded politely in greeting. Since Dorn didn't offer his arm, Lioslan didn't either.

"It is good of you to be so civic-minded. I hope you have concluded your guild business to your satisfaction, for rescuing the miners may take some time." Or rescuing what was left of them. There were plenty of dangers outside the walls of what passed for civilization, here.

He indicated Dargrim. "Master Rumblecask has indicated a similar sense of public duty as his reason for going. I must say, it is a pleasant surprise to find such concern for the common good in the North." At least, to find it in humans and dwarves.


Male Half-Orc Battle Oracle 1 [HPs: 17|17 - AC: 15 (17 w/ shield) | 10 |15 (17) - For:+3 | Ref:+1 | Wil:+4 - Per:+5 (Darkvision) Init:+0]

The man who came in next had to duck to keep from banging his head on the door, and his shoulders brushed either side of the doorframe as he slipped inside. His armor was dusty but not dirty, evidence of travel on the road rather than roughing it in the wilderness, and the huge sword and large pack on his back said more than words that this was a man of adventure.

He grinned at the noise and the bustle inside the tavern, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent of cooking food and- more importantly- beer. "And they said there wasn't a decent place to get a drink between the Jade Dancer and the Moonstone Mask."

The enormous man winked at Vanessa as she made her way back to the bar. "Pull me an ale, would you, sweetheart? Just let me find someplace to squeeze in at the bar." His features were rough but handsome, promising danger and excitement, and he didn't smell too bad for someone who'd spent days on the road. Of course, it was hard to smell his breath over the funk of body odor, food, and ale. In less jumbled air- or tighter quarters- the spice on his breath was enough to knock down a horse at five paces.


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

"Well, I was given to understand that the nature of the deadline of my quest was to be left, er, open-ended. I'm not some mere errand boy, after all. And certain matters require a degree of finesse, diligence and discretion to be performed correctly. And who is to say that this avenue of research won't be fruitful in a more roundabout way."

Dorn sipped his mead.

"Discovery, after all, is an imprecise process."

-Posted with Wayfinder


Even the arrival of a gigantic half orc does little to distract attention from the gypsy girl's dance; the beat has slowed and her sinuous motions have most of the crowd captivated. The few who do turn to look opt to quickly look away, after gauging just how large the new visitor is.

Vanessa, too was watching the dancer when Kevkas came in. Her jaw drops - just a little - but she quickly regains composure. Oh look, the horde has sent in an Ogre to negotiate for them. Wonderful! She does get Kevkas his drink though - in a very large mug - before turning again to watch the dancer in action.

Perception DC 15:
A young woman in the crowd - armored, armed, and hooded - seems to bristle at Kevkas's presence and watches him closely.

Perception DC 25:
A slight flush on the barmaid's cheeks - and the occasional lascivious glance from the dancer - would seem to indicate there is something going on between the two.


Male Half-Orc Battle Oracle 1 [HPs: 17|17 - AC: 15 (17 w/ shield) | 10 |15 (17) - For:+3 | Ref:+1 | Wil:+4 - Per:+5 (Darkvision) Init:+0]

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

DM Locke wrote:
Vanessa, too was watching the dancer when Kevkas came in. Her jaw drops - just a little - but she quickly regains composure. Oh look, the horde has sent in an Ogre to negotiate for them. Wonderful! She does get Kevkas his drink though - in a very large mug - before turning again to watch the dancer in action.

Kevkas grins back at Vanessa. "Not the first time I've been mistaken for a ogre, sweetheart. It is the first time I've been mistaken for one while standing up, though." He laughs at his own joke and looks around the crowded tavern, giving no sign he notices the woman who seemed to take offense at his presence.

The huge half-orc spots Innocent and Ulcisor and pushes gently through the crowd to get to them. "It's the priest and his friend! How's it going, you two?"


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

"Indeed." Lioslan didn't question what delicate matters might need seeing to in a small mining town. Whatever he might have said next was interrupted by Vanessa's exclamation at the entrance of the enormous half-orc.

Purely by reflex, Lioslan found his hand on his sword, but after a moment, having heard the stranger speak, a look of pity crossed his face, and he relaxed once more. "It seems the reward has attracted more than the civic-minded. Those who would better their lot join us as well," he said quietly as the half-orc approached, the conversation of the two men nearby still on his mind. He eyed Dargrim as he continued, "Doing so among chance-met strangers may prove... challenging, for some. It is well that there is a floor show to occupy the people's minds."


Male Human Magus (Bladebound) 2 (HP 22/22 | AC 16/17 w/Exp | T 12/13 w/Exp | FF 14 | CMD 15 | F +5 | R +2 | W +3 | Init +2 | Per +5)

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

"The elf. His open disdain is familiar and comforting," he answers decisively, then adds, "though the new arrival may invite some mingling of his own. Someone's itching for an excuse." He leans to Ulciscor, pointing out the armed and cowled woman. But it was not his problem nor his fight. Innocent grips the mug of ale, takes a heavy drink.

His answer to Kevkas is a shrug of his shoulders. "No different from the last time we met. Though it may get more interesting soon. Maybe sooner than that, now that you're here." Awkward silence. "Excuse me." Innocent leaves Kevkas with Ulciscor and makes his way to the other end of the bar where Lioslan talks with the dwarf.

And although he ends up next to the elf, he does not intrude upon the conversation unwelcome and instead lingers just outside Lioslan's personal space. Ulciscor may be the more direct conversationalist, but Innocent's habit comes from years of training to speak only when spoken to.

Kevkas posted while I was posting so had to make a quick edit. But that's a good thing when posting is actually happening. :)


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

Is either one of Innocent's holy symbols visible? Also, who is TBD? *g*


Male Human Magus (Bladebound) 2 (HP 22/22 | AC 16/17 w/Exp | T 12/13 w/Exp | FF 14 | CMD 15 | F +5 | R +2 | W +3 | Init +2 | Per +5)

Oh, I forgot to update that. For the time being, he isn't wearing any holy symbol at all, but he does own two. One of Bane, and one of Hoar, but both are kept privately. My bad, Lioslan!


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

Lioslan listened to the response of Dargrim and Dorn before turning to find that the silent presence nearby was a man of military bearing, and wearing the armor and sword to match it. He had an air of competence and danger about him that Lioslan's uncle had liked to name "the scent of adventurer," once upon a time. Certainly it wasn't the scent of either muddy Dargrim or flowery Dorn, but then, "adventurer" was a more subtle smell.

Perhaps to Innocent's disappointment, if the elf felt disdain at the sight of him, he was well-schooled in hiding it. Instead, Lioslan eyed him with the wariness of a fellow wielder of violence, prepared for random trouble to pop up in the guise of a polite stranger. It suggested that this was not his first time to be caught in the midst of trouble, should such appear.

"You have come to earn the reward? Then we are your companions," he opened, nodding towards Dorn and Dargrim. He gave his name once more, including both the dwarf and the mage, then regarded Innocent with his brows raised in question. Innocent noticed that his hands, though empty and relaxed, never strayed too far from the blades at his belt.


Male Half-Orc Battle Oracle 1 [HPs: 17|17 - AC: 15 (17 w/ shield) | 10 |15 (17) - For:+3 | Ref:+1 | Wil:+4 - Per:+5 (Darkvision) Init:+0]
Innocent of Yûlash wrote:
His answer to Kevkas is a shrug of his shoulders. "No different from the last time we met. Though it may get more interesting soon. Maybe sooner than that, now that you're here." Awkward silence. "Excuse me." Innocent leaves Kevkas with Ulciscor and makes his way to the other end of the bar where Lioslan talks with the dwarf.

Kev quirks an eyebrow at Innocent. "I like interesting." He watches curiously as Innocent walks down the bar to stand next to the elf without speaking, then takes a long drink and looks back at Ulcisor. "I get funny looks when I walk in a place, but your friend takes the cake once he starts opening his mouth." Kev gestures with his oversized ale stein. "Or not, in this case."


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

When Dorn heard the commotion about an "ogre" he also glanced at the door. But then he rolled his eyes.

"Simpletons never seen a half-orc before. Well, quarter-orc, really," he muttered quietly, as he took note of the fellow's less-pronunced porcine features.

Half-orcs weren't common exactly, but they weren't a very rare sight in Waterdeep either.

"I am Dorn Kindleheart, of the Silver Scryers Guild. A pleasure to make your acquaintances," he said to the newcomers.

On the one-hand it was a bother to have to split the three-hundred eagles among so many. But on the other, it might mean that he wouldn't need to work very hard for his gold.

He hefted the last of his mead and said, "To good health, and fine wealth. And may Tymora always smile upon us."

-Posted with Wayfinder


Male Aasimar Cleric 2 [HP: 14/14 | AC: 17 | T: 12 | FF: 15 | CMB: +2 | CMD: 14 | Fort: +3 | Ref: +2 | Will: +7 | Init +2 | Perc: + 10| Speed: 20'| XP: 535 ]
Kevkas the Battle Oracle wrote:
Kev quirks an eyebrow at Innocent. "I like interesting." He watches curiously as Innocent walks down the bar to stand next to the elf without speaking, then takes a long drink and looks back at Ulcisor. "I get funny looks when I walk in a place, but your friend takes the cake once he starts opening his mouth." Kev gestures with his oversized ale stein. "Or not, in this case."

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Ulciscor chuckled, quietly. "So he does. It seems you decided not to continue North to Neverwinter with the caravan, after all. Have you decided that rescuing lost miners for gold is more interesting?" Ulciscor smiled.

"It will be nice to have you along, I think." He nodded towards a hooded young woman in the crowd - the same one Innocent had pointed out to him. "I think that one is giving you more than funny looks, my friend. Perhaps this day will be more interesting than any of us expected." Ulciscor set his now empty mug on the bar, where the coins he'd placed before no longer sat.

"But for now, we'd probably best try to make some friends. It seems the others are-" he cut off when the wizard looked directly at him and Kevkas and spoke.

Dorn Kindleheart wrote:
"I am Dorn Kindleheart, of the Silver Scryers Guild. A pleasure to make your acquaintances."He hefted the last of his mead and said, "To good health, and fine wealth. And may Tymora always smile upon us."

Hiving just finished his ale, Ulciscor nodded in response to the toast. The wizard was close enough to speak to by simply raising his voice, but not so close that taking a step or two in his direction wouldn't help. So he did, which placed him between Dorn and Kev.

Greetings, Dorn Kindleheart. I am Ulciscor, my oversized companion here is Kevkas. And over talking to the others, is Innocent. Well met."


Male Human Magus (Bladebound) 2 (HP 22/22 | AC 16/17 w/Exp | T 12/13 w/Exp | FF 14 | CMD 15 | F +5 | R +2 | W +3 | Init +2 | Per +5)

"We are not companions yet. But if we prove we're worth their gold, that could change. But nothing short of slaughtering a tribe of orcs will change Leilon's situation. They do not respond to much else."

Innocent tries to hold the elf's gaze with intensity, and Lioslan has probably experienced the situation before - the human rapt by the exotic appearance of a sun elf, rare outisde of their enclaves. But unlike others, Innocent seems to be well aware that he is staring and experiences no shame in doing so.

"I'm Innocent," he says simply after the introductions, prepared to accept any clever comments with stoic grace. "And my companion in the hat is Ulciscor. We come and go together."

When Dorn toasts, Innocent meets it by raising his own ale mug a couple of inches or so. "And may Beshaba look the other way..."


Male Gnome
VITALS:
AC: 22(23), T: 12(13), FF: 21(22); HP: 65/65; F:8, R:3, W:1; CMD 19; CMB +6 ; Init: 1 ; Perc:+9
Barbarian 2
SKILLS:
Acrobatics -2 (-10 to jump), Craft (armor) +12, Craft (blacksmith) +15, Craft (weapons) +13, Perception +9, Survival +7, Swim +9

Gyro pulls up a chair. And sits down. His head barely over the table

"Seems the party is here. So i think i'll join. Im Gyro Titanblade. Smith of the Mauler tribe!" he introduces himself loudly
"Cheers! Who and what evr you are toasting!"

-Posted with Wayfinder


Male Half-Orc Battle Oracle 1 [HPs: 17|17 - AC: 15 (17 w/ shield) | 10 |15 (17) - For:+3 | Ref:+1 | Wil:+4 - Per:+5 (Darkvision) Init:+0]
Ulciscor wrote:
Ulciscor chuckled, quietly. "So he does. It seems you decided not to continue North to Neverwinter with the caravan, after all. Have you decided that rescuing lost miners for gold is more interesting?" Ulciscor smiled.

Kevkas barked out a laugh. "More interesting than walking all day watching the trees for bandits who never show up? Yes, I think so."

Ulciscor wrote:


"It will be nice to have you along, I think." He nodded towards a hooded young woman in the crowd - the same one Innocent had pointed out to him. "I think that one is giving you more than funny looks, my friend. Perhaps this day will be more interesting than any of us expected." Ulciscor set his now empty mug on the bar, where the coins he'd placed before no longer sat.

The big half-orc nodded, looking down into his ale. "I saw her. I don't mind a friendly bar fight, but she's loaded for bear and it's crowded in here. Figured I'd try playing I didn't see her and see if she stopped staring daggers at me."

Ulciscor wrote:


Dorn Kindleheart wrote:
"I am Dorn Kindleheart, of the Silver Scryers Guild. A pleasure to make your acquaintances."He hefted the last of his mead and said, "To good health, and fine wealth. And may Tymora always smile upon us."

Hiving just finished his ale, Ulciscor nodded in response to the toast. The wizard was close enough to speak to by simply raising his voice, but not so close that taking a step or two in his direction wouldn't help. So he did, which placed him between Dorn and Kev.

Greetings, Dorn Kindleheart. I am Ulciscor, my oversized companion here is Kevkas. And over talking to the others, is Innocent. Well met."

Kev grinned at Dorn and raised his ogre-sized ale in the elf's direction. "Well met, Silver Scryer! I never turn down a blessing from Lady Luck!" He banged on his armored chest, rapping on a steel pendant in the shape of Torm's gauntlet with his knuckles. "Luck is the best ally a man can have riding into a fight. And I wouldn't mind seeing some of that wealth, either."


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

A little surprised by Innocent's frank gaze, it took a moment for Lioslan to realize that the man he was speaking with wasn't proclaiming his innocence, but actually telling the elf his name. The hesitation due to his confusion was the only hint that he had found the name unusual; Lioslan nodded to Innocent gravely, only the slightest narrowing of his eyes betraying any hint of his thoughts. If only the humans lived up to the virtues they are named for, he thought with a bit of amusement. At least they didn't name him Mannerly.

"Ah, but with so few of us here, the deputy mayor would be a fool not to send us all, or at least as many as can be convinced that 300 dragons split among so many is worth the danger - unless the pockets of the mayor are deeper than they seem, and the reward is meant for each."

He eyed the man in the large hat - Ulsciscor - who was apparently familiar with the hulking half-orc. A companion for Innocent, and clearly not one biased against orcish blood. Interesting. Perhaps they were not from the North? Or were from the very center of human civilization and worldliness in the North, Waterdeep? He would have to hear them speak a bit more to judge their accents.

"Well met," he acknowledged, trying not to let the half-orc - Kevkas - draw his gaze too much. It was hard - the fellow's presence was difficult to overlook, and would have been even without the orcish blood. Sweet Sehanine, six sturdy dwarves could fill the space he left behind, if the four of them sat on the other two's shoulders, and there would be room to spare at the top! A good thing Torm appeared to be his patron.

He blinked as Gyro pulled his chair over to the bar. "What brings a gnomish smith on such a quest?" he asked curiously, aware of the earthbreaker the gnome sported. A man who is Innocent, a half-orc behemoth of Torm, and a gnome who mauls titans, he marveled, his amusement finally stretching his mouth in a smile despite his stern reprimand to himself.


Male Gnome
VITALS:
AC: 22(23), T: 12(13), FF: 21(22); HP: 65/65; F:8, R:3, W:1; CMD 19; CMB +6 ; Init: 1 ; Perc:+9
Barbarian 2
SKILLS:
Acrobatics -2 (-10 to jump), Craft (armor) +12, Craft (blacksmith) +15, Craft (weapons) +13, Perception +9, Survival +7, Swim +9

"Smithing!" he proclaimed
"Metals. And other sources. I plan to make a weapon of true epic proportion. And i think this place will give me the resources i need to start on it!"

-Posted with Wayfinder


HP: 24/26 | Studied Target: none
Stats:
(AC 17, T 11, FF 16) | CMD 17 (+4 vs. bull rush/trip) | Fort +6, Ref +4, Will +2 (+3 vs. poison, spells, and SLAs) | Init +1 | Percept +7
Trap Perception:
+9 (+11 for stonework)
Innocent of Yûlash wrote:
"I'm Innocent," he says simply after the introductions, prepared to accept any clever comments with stoic grace...

Not surprisingly, it's the simple-minded dwarf that takes the bait. He eases off of his own tankard of ale long enough for a smile to crack somewhere beneath the dense confines of his copper beard as he calls out a bit louder than necessary, "Innocent, be it? Ye look a sight more th'guilty t'me, laddie! Huehuehuehue!" On the bright side, the remark comes from a misguided stab at comradery, Dargrim going so far as to even clap Innocent on the back as his horse laugh carries across the common room. A little more subtly, the dwarf is sizing up the scimitar-toting man behind his jovial veneer, as he has done with the crowd since the moment he arrived.

Turning back to the table at large, Dargrim's ears perk up a little as the discussion turns to talk of the matter at hand—the reward in particular. His dumb grin fades into a look of confusion, and his hand rises to meet his beard and stroke it thoughtfully. "Ah'd be less 'an forthright if ah confessed t'fathomin' a reward what's divvied atween a merry band an' not a small fortune o' pressed gold fer each o' th'heads crazed enough t'be sallyin' intae th'mines." The dwarf contemplates the ceiling as he continues to run a hand through his considerable hirsute. "On th'other hand, ah've seen nary a proper reason t'be heftin' Lullaby since headin' down Th'Coast."

"What'll th'lot o' ye be considerin' when th'job be done an' behind? Fancied a stroll t'Waterdeep meself. Might try me hand at tamin' tha' mountain under th'city."

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23


The gypsy's dance finally ends, and as the beautiful young woman curtsies the crowd erupts in clapping and whistling. Some begin yelling for an encore, though such exclamations end quickly as the front door of the tavern opens. A tall, gaunt older man saunters in; he is dressed almost entirely in black, with a wide-brimmed buckled hat and long gray hair that reaches his shoulders. He carries an expensive looking walking stick though he shows no visible limp or impairment.

I will speak with the volunteers now. The rest of you, clear out! His voice is deep but wavering, clearly not used to speaking to large audiences. Though the crowd had quieted, none seem overly eager to obey the old man's request, and they mill about uncomfortably.

Unless you're a volunteer GET OUT. A feminine voice this time, sharp, commanding. It comes from a woman, of medium height but slender build, armoured in leather and carrying both a bow and a long curved sword. Her face is hooded but her pretty features seem at odds with the grim set of her jaw and her obvious lack of patience with the suddenly immovable crowd.

Though there are grumbles, virtually the entire common room empties. The three gypsies make their way to their room upstairs, and the common rabble empties out to the street. Vanessa quickly disappears upstairs as well, leaving the seven adventurers, the commanding young woman, the older man in black and the barkeep.

The older man in black clears his throat and nods to the young woman. Ahem, yes, thank you, Argentia. Well, now, here are our volunteers, hmmm? Yes, seven fine examples of heroism indeed. I am Malfell, deputy mayor. I have asked you here, today, because Leilon needs help. We have two shifts of workers - over 500 men and women - out there, and we want them back. Three days ago we sent a shift out to the mines to begin their tenday rotation; an equal sized group was to return that same day. All are now gone, and where, we do not know. We fear it may be Orcs, and a sizeable group of them. What we want is out people back. If you can secure the mines as well, that would be an added bonus. He clears his throat, clearly considering his words. In his ... great wisdom, our Mayor Pelindar Filmarya rode off two weeks ago with the bulk of our standing forces to help fight the Orcs up north. This leaves us with few soldiers to defend our palisades. Hence my need to secure your help.

The young woman stands forward. I'm one of the rangers that patrols these lands. My sister is out there too - when the return shift was a day overdue she rode out to scout the situation. She's not been heard from since. I'll be going with you, as I know the path - and the lands around - far better than any of you. And if my sister is in danger, I intend to rescue her. I'll not leave her to a fate worse than death with those Orc filth!

Indeed, Argentia, finding Jenneth is important. But securing those mines is key to this towns' survival. That is your primary goal. And the people. Yes. The people must be protected. Malfell says this haltingly, as if there was something else he'd rather have said. Argentia shoots him a look of pure loathing but says nothing.

Malfell nods, clearly pleased with himself. I've no doubt you ...fine folk have questions. He smiles as he asks this, a disturbing rictus that looks much like a smile stuck forever on a dead man.


Male Gnome
VITALS:
AC: 22(23), T: 12(13), FF: 21(22); HP: 65/65; F:8, R:3, W:1; CMD 19; CMB +6 ; Init: 1 ; Perc:+9
Barbarian 2
SKILLS:
Acrobatics -2 (-10 to jump), Craft (armor) +12, Craft (blacksmith) +15, Craft (weapons) +13, Perception +9, Survival +7, Swim +9

"Just orcs? The bigger the better! I like hitting those bigger. Bring them down to my level! Haha!" he laughs
He eyes the rest. Grinning from ear to ear. He didnt care if they laughed at his size. He would soon show the bigger ones just how efficiently a Titanblade handles combat. His surname wasnt just for decoration

-Posted with Wayfinder


Orcs are no laughing matter. They are strong and vicious. They have skilled archers and shamans amongst their ranks. They can endure wounds that would fell two men and continue fighting. And if they capture you ... Argentia suppresses a shudder.


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

That sounded a bit more dangerous than he had planned. But where there were orcs there was plunder. That potential profit was too much to ignore.

Having issues with authority, Dorn ignored the mayor and directed his question to the beautiful ranger.

"Any dangers aside from Orcs out there?"

-Posted with Wayfinder


gold elf fighter 2, HPs: 20/20 - AC: 18|14|14 - For:+3 | Ref:+4 | Wil:+0 - Init:+4

Had Lioslan been drinking anything, he would have choked on it at the mention of the 500 miners they were to rescue. That was a much larger number than he had imagined! How were they to shepherd such a number, much less feed them, should they have been abducted into the wilds?! Having no drink, Lioslan was merely stunned for a moment, but still listened carefully as the others spoke.

It sounded as though Argentia knew her way around the wilderness, or at least around orcs. Lioslan immediately liked her. He rather liked Gyro's attitude as well, though he couldn't help but find it amusing, despite the gnome's warrior garb. If he truly was a smith, what was he doing in such a getup?

He looked askance at Dorn when the wizard asked his question, revising his opinion of the man. It would seem he was not so familiar with the North.

"Wolves, trolls, the dead that walk and the living that stalk," he volunteered. "And those are just the most common, though none are so common as the orcs."


Spells:
Cantrips, 1st 5/5
Stats:
HP 18/18 | AC 13 ff13 t10| Fort +2 Ref +3 Will +3 | Init +7 | Perc +5, low-light | crossbow +4(1d8) crit 19
Male Human Sorcerer 2; 1,300xp | 26.88gp | Effects: None

Dorn rolled his eyes at the elf.

"Some monsters die only with fire. Some must be killed with cold-forged iron. Others with silver. And some just need a steady application of violence. I'm not a simpleton, elf. I just like to be prepared."

-Posted with Wayfinder

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