D&D 5E [IC] Egon's Lost Mine of Phandelver

The southern gate to the city of Neverwinter stands open behind you, the cool spring morning bringing welcoming the inevitable carts and wagons full of food and fabrics and other needed supplies from the outlying towns. Merchants and caravans can already be seen at the edge of your vision, the small carts and processions getting bigger and bigger as they make their way north towards the city. And the guards at the gate behind you are diligent in setting themselves up to face the coming onslaught of the endless trains of goods, ready to assess taxes and make sure that unsavories don't somehow find their way in to the city...or the pockets of merchants stopped at the gates.

Before you stands the carriage that your mutual friend Gundren told you about. A simple carriage, filled with all kinds of mining supplies like picks and shovels and tarps and rope all held loosely and dangerously in place by even more tarp and rope. A single horse is tied to the front of the carriage, just past the prime of its life, a bag of some type of oat or grain slung over its head so that the beast has a decent breakfast. The guards were watching over it all until you arrived, both glad to be done with babysitting duty.

You each individually were hoping for a horse so that the 5 day trek southeast along the high road to Phandalin wouldn't be a walking one. But alas, it is only the one horse, pulling the wagon. And while the driver's seat of the wagon is wide enough to carry 2 people, you are left wondering if it has the capacity to do so with the rest of the gear stowed on board. It looks like this trek will indeed be a walking one.

The road stands empty before you, save for the caravans approaching from the south. Best to get to making your way to Phandalin as quickly as possible so you can enjoy some of the coin Gundren promised you for this job.

Anastriana skeptically inspected the load of mining supplies. While mines and the Underdark were largely foreign to her, preferring the lush greens and loamy smells of the forest, she could still recognize the fact that the purpose of the tools was to despoil the land. Gundren had assured her that he and his partners were taking a much more delicate approach to this endeavor, but she wasn't entirely sure she believed him. Still, she owed the dwarf a favor for providing information on that Zhent clear-cutting camp a few months ago, so here she was.

Looking around the rest of the guard group, she was surprised to see a minotaur. They were an uncommon species in civilized society. Nodding her head in his direction, she took up a position at the front of the cart, trusting that the best place for her would be as a ranging scout, given her sharp senses and fleet feet. Readying her bow, she called over her shoulder and said, "Are we ready to go? Call me Ana."

Endurance Wendover stands at the gate. He has been there since before dawn, because he likes to feel the dew form, that moment of transition in the predawn light when the day truly begins. He's taken the job because, well, when you look like he does, there is some understandable suspicion. He is known along the coast merely as a survivor, as the one who survived at sea, clinging to a mast, made it to shore and then led rescue teams back, to the precise spot on the unknown atoll where the ship went down, and found the other survivors.

He was celebrated, the stranger hero, but popular interest wanes quickly, and no community can celebrate forever. Life returned to normal, and Endurance needed work. Endurance was changed by the experience, and he knew he wasn't the bull he had been before: he has been chosen. He can't explain it, but he feels connected to the storm, to the rains, and even to the morning dew. He doesn't know why, but it's his power now. It helped him survive, and now it will help him make a lasting name for himself.

His massive bulk is too much for the front seat of the poor cart that rattles in front of him. He finds a place for his pack, and prepares to walk. "My name is Endurance," he says to the others, when Ana introduces herself. "It seems we are travelling together."

Keira wonders, not for the first time, why her benefactor introduced her to Gundren. The dwarf was certainly on to something, but now Keira was standing here in front of this wagon. Getting ready to escort it to some remote town days away was certainly a change for someone who had never left Neverwinter before. Still, none of this uncertainty shows on her face as she joins the others, although a glance up (way up) at Endurance does provoke a quirked eyebrow.

"I am Keira."

The slight girl looks over the wagon dubiously.

"Who secured this stuff?"

Not waiting for an answer, she starts making her way around the load, rearranging gear, tucking in tarps and retying ropes.

Gnash walks around the wagon, looking it up and down and inspecting the poor beast of burden strapped to the monstrous load. He shakes his head as he walks forward to pat the horse and reassure it. Gundren is a loyal friend as any dwarf would be, he thinks to himself, but he could stand to learn a thing or two about treating animals with respect. Gnash looks the animal over again, making sure it is healthy and in good spirits for the journey.


As Gnash continues looking over his charge, he whistles softly to himself, a gentle smile on his brown face and sunlight in his eyes. He adjusts the shoulder straps on his pack and walks over to his traveling companions. ”Hello there! My name is Gnash Fangelorn, at your service.” He beams at each of the companions in turn with a welcoming smile, but as he looks at Ana his head cocks slightly. ”Say, have we met before? I’ve spent many years in the woods around Thundertree. In fact, Thundertree is where I met Gundren. Have you been to that area?”

Anastriana nodded, "Yes, I range quite a bit around Neverwinter. While I've been to Thundertree, it's been several years. I tend to keep to the woods when possible, I'm not a big fan of cities."

The wood elf glanced over her shoulder at the rooftops of Neverwinter, hoping to put them out of sight sooner rather than later.

"Well then, I'm delighted that our paths have crossed again! Any friend of Gundren is a friend of mine," Gnash says to Ana.

He looks over the rest of the companions, craning his neck to look at them, especially the minotaur, then looks down at his feet.

"I love the feel of the road beneath my boots, but I'm afraid that I will hold us all back. Does anyone mind if I ride?"

Lady Rebecca smoothed her travelling dress into place, her delicate elven hands moving quickly and surely. She cast a gaze over her travelling companions, an assorted bunch if nothing else.

She sighed as she realised there would be no horse and that the trip would be on foot. Thankfully, she was not burdened by the arms and armour some of the others would be and with a light step she moved alongside the wagon giving it a critical look.

"I am Rebecca," she states by way of introduction. No doubt these common people would feel more comfortable if they thought her "one of them", this was largely the reason behind the simple travelling dress. The minotaur was a surprise, more beast that man she would give that one a wide berth if she could.

She wondered, surely not for the first (or last) time, at the wisdom of her course but the need to prove her parents wrong was all the stiffening of her resolve she needed.

"Go right ahead," Ana replied to Gnash. "I was about to suggest it, given your stride."

She looked over Rebecca. Half-elf... the ranger thought as she appraised the other woman. No armor or weapons to speak of... either a fool, a merchant, or, hopefully, a mage of some sort. She paced impatiently as she waited for the cart to get rolling.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all," says Endurance, beginning to walk and pulling the horse by the lead attached to its halter. He walks stiffly, his armour rigid, but well oiled, to protect it against the elements. "Let us see what the road brings us."

The bull's deep voice has a roughness to it, but his intonation is almost musical. His mouth is slightly open, and it may be a smile.