D&D 5E Dwimmermount [IC]

OOC Thread
Rogues' Gallery

It has been a grueling past few weeks as you and your company slow excursion to the northeast and your final destination of the semi-independent fortified town of Montburg. For rumors on the winds had carried to all the city-states that the doors of the ancient dungeon of Dwimmermount had again open for some unknowable reason. Rumors were flying but as the one of the last sources of magical items in the realms there were great calls for adventures and explorers.

Your company has just left Adamas, the last large city this far north and one of the great cities of the ancient Thule Empire. While the empire is no more, Adamas still stands proud. But the people were cold and unfriendly, stoic to their lot in life of hard work with little rewards. The city’s official deity was Grumbar, the dour god of elemental earth, solidity, changelessness, and oaths. The people reflected their god in their stubbornness and dislike of change (and strangers). There were few inn or welcome taverns in the city, most were located outside her walls where the few caravans.

You had heard a few rumors here; that the opening of the Dwimmermount boded ill fortune for the region. That the goblin hoards where creeping back into their old holds in the Wintertop Mountains. The necromancers of the old Lich-Lords were preforming rituals again in the Demon Claw Mountains and Caracava Badlands, ancient strongholds of the undead. That the great spiders of the Cobwood Forest were awakening from their long slumber to again treaten the surrounding lands. The Thule barbarians of the north, uncivilized brutes who had forgotten the civilized way of their ancient empire, where again raiding into the southlands, pillaging and taking slaves back to their cold holds. That the dark elves* were making their presence known in the Evensong Woods, whether for good or ill, it was assumed it must be ill tiding indeed.

Of the Dwimmermount itself, your company had heard that the engines the ran the ancient tomb were active again and fueling the bones of the past dead to some unnatural unlife (undead?). There were also rumors that while the main entryway was open that must mean that the other ‘doors’ are also open. That the mount itself had more than one entrance was accepted by all but no one seemed to know where they were. For it was said that the tomb was alive and that its interior sometimes changes as did the entrances…

You are now just two days travel from Montburg on the old Thule Trade Road. It had seen better days and few if anyone traveled it for trade anymore as the other ancient cities farther north had all been destroyed in ancient days, the last, Lloraec, whose ruins lie many days north or Montburg in the Plains or Ur and past the Wintertop Mountains.

A cold wild forced you to bundle up for this last leg of travel, and there was a hint of snow or at least freezing rain by this evening. It would be a cold camp that no one was looking forward too but as the season pasted it would only get worse before it got better. Spring was many weeks off yet and the storms of these lands were legend.

Pulling the hood of his dark green traveling cloak tight around his head Hunter blew on his hands trying to transfer whatever warmth was left in his body to them. He had never liked the cold or the heat for that matter whenever the weather had gotten too bad he had always found his way inside. Looking at the sky, Hunter smirked, I should have spent the money on a tent, he thought to himself, perhaps they would get lucky and be able to camp under some shelter. As beginnings to journeys went he had seen better but it’s not like the Dwimmermount would wait until spring.

Walking silently, Hunter smiled, he was trying to talk less today, he had most likely already bored his fellow travelers beyond their limits, with his tales of Parian and Gao. There were still all the stories he had heard from the guild, but those could always wait for another day, or at least until they set up camp tonight.

Stretching his back, Hunter reached his long arms over his head before he quickly wrapped his clock around him tightly once more. He looked over to Magen; he had met the stocky Nobleman first and felt he had begun to get an understanding of his character. Nodding at Magen, Hunter began to talk in a calm and quiet voice. “Do you put any stock in those rumors of the undead? I mean, I’ve never seen a person that has come back from the dead? I’ve heard a lot a stories, and I’ve listen to some awfully tall tales told by some self-proclaimed adventures, but I’d never thought that I could possible run into one; strange times, strange times indeed.”

Magen Brigward
Fighter 2

Magen trudged along, lost in his own thoughts, followed by his little entourage. In the cold he was grateful for his shield that provided some protection from the wind. The trek so far had been hard Magen and his three companions sharing a small tent meant for two, taking it in turns to have the slight luxury when they slept. Magen felt sorry for Galan, the old man was struggling with the trek and the weather but both Warian and Edgar eagerly helped him, always eager to hear the man's stories around the fire.

His little group had grown steadily as they'd headed south, most of whom seemed like they would be handy in a fight. Magen had been friendly with them talking about battles, feasts and hunts.

“Do you put any stock in those rumors of the undead?" asked Hunter, Magen's longest standing new companions. The two of them had lived close but on separate estates, but had never met until the two of them shared a campsite along the way. Their plans for Dwimmermount had come out then and they had concluded that they would need a lot of help.

"I have heard rumours of many battles involving warriors coming back from death. They all have the same thing in common - no one telling the story was ever there to see it." Magen said in way of reply. "In my short experience stories are always bigger, stronger and scarier than reality."

[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 11
AC: 23
Initiative: +0
HP: 24/24 (HD: 2/2d10)

Offense:
Longsword: +5 5ft 1d8+3S
Longsword (2hnd): +5 5ft 1d10+3
Longbow: +2 150/600 1d8P

Second Wind: 1/1
Action Surge: 1/1
Inspiration: 3
[/SBLOCK]

Shara pulls her wine-colored cloak tighter around her, trying in vain to keep the cold out. She thought she'd be so happy to be among people again, but she didn't realize she'd have to trade the sun to do so.

She glances briefly toward Corwin, instinctively wanting to ask whether he was warm enough. He was so young, and so small--the same height as her, and not much heavier. But she thought better of it. He clearly considered himself every bit the adventurer, and would probably be insulted by anyone trying to look after him. Still, she'd be keeping a careful eye on him in the upcoming battles.

Instead, she takes a few quick strides to catch up to Mikel, and gives the scholar a smile.

"Help me take my mind off this cold, would you, Mikel?" She reaches into a small pouch on her belt and pulls out a strange gold coin, offering it to him for inspection. "You're quite the scholar. I don't suppose you might know where this is from?"

"Oh for the love of all that's holy it's COLD" Corwin though as his shivered beneath his threadbare cloak. He looked around at his companions wondering if hitching up with them was the best idea. He toyed with his belt pouch... "definitely need a new cloak in the next town." he muttered.

The cold was unfamiliar to Lucious, but did little to stop his curiosity. Snow? he questioned, repeating the foreign word back to the man. "White fluff falling from the sky. " he thought.

The surface was a strange place full of wonder and excitement and despite the strange looks he got everywhere he went his stride never faltered. His skin was dark, unusually dark for a human which garnered him much attention. His people were cave dwellers and only surfaced to hunt and trade. Luscious was no hunter and his tongue was not sharp enough to gain profit from the sale of goods, so he rarely went 'top side' as they called it.

As they continued on their way Lucious was running out of friends interested in his endless stream of questions.


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Mikel was cold, he had spent the years hunkering down in the library, shielded from the elements. He was naturally hardy, and the destination was pulling him tirelessly to their destiny. He had lost track of his exact age a decade or so ago, he was in his fifties he knew that much, and it showed. Greying hair that was ever thinning, a short greyed beard, wrinkles forming from his near permanent scowl. His robes were generally warm, but they were nothing in this weather, his bones creaked.

His companion Shara handed him a strange coin, he looked it over, flipping it from one side to the other, getting a feel for the weight. His voice more coarse than expected from the cold, "Let me take a look at it." He began inspecting it very closely, looking for any minute markings. He took a few notes of the symbols, perhaps he could recall something related to them that would help him identify the origin of the coin.

Looking into the coin took his mind off of the frigid cold as his mind began to set to work, his mind a sharpened tool honed with years of study and research. Meanwhile he subconsciously took note of each of his companions, they were a rather rag-tag group, ranging from scholars to nobles, to what appeared a guttersnipe. They would all have their role to play in the days to come. He could only do so much with knowledge, he needed these people to face the dangers of the dungeon with him so he could recover what hidden secrets the Dwimmermount held.

The company trekked on through the long valley that lead towards Murtburg; the Wintercap Mountains to the north and the Aldleigh Forest to the south. The road follows the cold mountain feed Moktone River, which swiftly running downriver and you are glad you do not need to cross it to get to Murtburg (you crossed that bridge back in Adamas this morning).

As the day progresses the clouds darken the skies above at a light freezing rain starts falling by mid-afternoon, making the go even worst then before. Clucking your cloaks tighter against the chill you start looking for a place to camp for the night when you all see faint lights ahead. Moving forward you see about ten small village hunts and a couple of barns ahead, build near a large stone bridge that crosses the Moktone River...

As darkness is fast approaching there appears to be no one about in the freezing rain, all residences are probably huddled inside near their fires.

Magen Brigward
Fighter 2

The weather worsened as they trudged along then just as darkness was about to fall they noticed some lights from a cluster of farm buildings ahead. "A barn sounds like a nice warm alternative to the outdoors." Magen said to no one in particular, "Wait here, I'll go buy us some space for the evening."

Magen headed to the nearest house, calling out when he was close enough to be heard. "Good evening!" Getting closer he continues, "I am Magen from Wodnes in the north, might we trouble you for some shelter for the evening. We can pay. Maybe a chicken or two for dinner as well, dried rations are somewhat tiresome."

[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 11
AC: 23
Initiative: +0
HP: 24/24 (HD: 2/2d10)

Offense:
Longsword: +5 5ft 1d8+3S
Longsword (2hnd): +5 5ft 1d10+3
Longbow: +2 150/600 1d8P

Second Wind: 1/1
Action Surge: 1/1
Inspiration: 3
[/SBLOCK]

Hunter Brightwood

The sun was quickly leaving the sky and the freezing rain had started to chill Hunter to the bone, when he saw what appeared to be the lights of a small village a short distance ahead. Hunter smiled slightly the streets, if you were charitable enough to call them that, were empty, the people that live there were at least smart enough to stay out of the rain.

Hunter was about to speak before Magen said something about securing a barn for the night and ran off in front of them. “The sureness of the nobility,” Hunter muttered softly shaking his head. He did not disagree with Magen’s plan, it is the one he would have purposed, but he would like to have been sure everyone was in agreement before heading out.

After Magen had made it a little ways down the road Hunter addressed the group with a weak smile his eyes squinted against the freezing rain, “Should we go after him? While I would love to trust the locals in this village, this road is seldom traveled, and who knows what their needs are.”