[D&D 3.5][FR] Silverdale (IC)

[crazy_monkey1956]

Silverdale

With a population of only about one hundred able bodied men and women and their families, this tiny speck on the map faces an uphill battle.

Established by the Dales Council, the town is meant to be a trade stop and defensive position at the mouth of the Shadow Gap.

The town includes several small, self-sufficient farms, a shrine to Lathander, a modest tavern converted from an old barn, and a half-completed keep. No courthouse or jail, no market to speak of, and no walls.

Travelling through Shadow Gap

Fandalla Caomhanach and Jericho Saul had met on the long road from Waterdeep and had been travelling together for several days.

They had skirted around the strange dent in the earth that was all that was left of the town of Tilverton, strange mists flowing through the crater like a living fog. Something about that place had given them both nightmares.

Only another day or so to Silverdale, their intended destination. But up ahead, there was a broken down wagon in the middle of the road.

Travelling from the Dales

A gathering had been held in Shadowdale, a call for volunteers to aid the new community of Silverdale. Many had answered the call and now the group approached the tiny town.

Accompanied by a supply wagon, Ragnoth, Turmak, Lothar, Barton, Alistair, Bannocker, and Izard saw the smoke before they saw the fire. As they rounded the bend in the road, they saw that Silverdale's tavern, an old converted barn, was in flames.

 

[ethandrew]

"By the Gods, make sure everyone is out safely, I'll go around back and make sure there's no horses stabled," Alistair Fallwood called out, a bit of panic in his voice. His body moved quickly around to where the stables most likely would be, his long brown hair flowing behind him.

 

[GandalfMithrandir]

Ragnoth also quickly moves to the barn, and yells inside to see if anyone is inside. "Is anyone in there!" he yells

 

[Voda Vosa]

The dwarf stomps heavily towards the barn, saying nothing, but with his weapon at the ready. No tavern gets flames just for the fun of it.

 

[WarShrike]

Lothar cant help but smirk at the situation. "This place is getting off to a great start" he states, to no-one in particular, as he readies his crossbow.

 

[Scratched_back]

Nudging Fandalla excitedly, Jericho nods towards the broken down cart revealed by a bend in the road. "Thank the gods, Fandalla! If we can get this thing going again... no more walking! I've almost worn a hole in my boots we've been on foot for so long."

Looking down wistfully, Jericho pats a small cloud of dust from his boots to reveal intricate silver stitching in a curious exotic pattern across them. "Did I ever tell you the story behind these beauties, by the way? I won them in... well... another time maybe. Do you see the horses that were pulling this cart? I must have dust in my eyes, too." Proceeding forward, Jericho straightens the neck of his exquisitely made, maroon-dyed studded leather, unbuckles the protective case from around his harp and fixes a broad smile for whomever he may see hanging around the wagon.

 

[Myth and Legend]

Fand grinned broadly, her freckled nose wrinkling in that special lovely way only rarely seen amongst adults. She stretched her arms and shuffled around in her armour, rummaging her copper coloured hair a bit to try and bring it into submition. This of course, proved fruitless, but the girl paid no heed. She stared at her newfound companion's curious blue and gold eyes, then at the distance, then back to Jericho's face.

He was a pretty one, this Jericho, and while not really strong or tough (the kind of men Fand usually found herself drooling over), he had something special that made the girl tingle just below the ribs. Most of the time it happened when he played his harp, while the two of them would camp a ways off besides the main Northern road. Especially during those times. Fortunately (or unfortunately), he had proven to be quite the gentleman and never tried to offer his services as an entertainer.

Being a Cleric for Fand did not mean she was a nun, and Lathander was the type of deity who did not put down binding dogma on his preachers. She and Lathander had an agreement - Fand would get all the men she wanted, and in return she would zealously try to convert them to her faith (among other things). It was working out fine so far for the twenty four year old human.

Fandalla didn't know much about Jericho, but she hadn't managed to teach the lad the most basic rule of communication with the young Cleric of Lathander - call her Fand, or risk being thought how unpleasant a Create Water spell is when conjured right above your head while you are sleeping.

"Call me Fand you stubborn man, I haven't traveled for several days besides you to have you adressing me like a princess! Haha! - the girl snorted while she laughed sincerely, and urged her companion forward. - In Lathander's Holy Light these folk need our help. Let us be off and offer it then!"

 

[ghostcat]

Izy arrives in Silverdale tired and dusty. Expecting to be able to put his feet up and have a quiet drink, he is shocked to find the inn on fire. Leaving others to rescue people and animals, Izy starts to organise a bucket brigade. However, his rescue attempt is hampered by the fact that he is new in town and doesn't even know where the well is. Still dithering never gets anyone anywhere, so Izy instructs some people to locate the well and the others to find buckets. Anyone not looking busy gets given a job.

 

[Scott DeWar]

"Darn! no ale tonight." Barton rushes to the burning buidging to see fi therre were calls for help within.

OOC: would therre be a secod floor such as is tipical of the barns I have seen?

 

[crazy_monkey1956]

Silverdale: The Inn Fire

Alistair goes around to the back and encounters something quite unexpected...several goblins staked out on the back of the building, tied there securely with heavy rope. The creatures are mostly overcome by smoke, though they are still alive. One, still conscious, calls out weakly in broken Common, "Help us!"

Approaching the front of the barn/inn, Ragnoth, Turmak, Lothar, and Barton, weapons at the ready, hear a reply to Ragnoth's call from the second floor, "Please help! We're tied up in here!"

Meanwhile, Izy is able to find the locals and tries to get them to form a bucket line...and finds them all refusing. One local girl replies snootily, "Goblin lovers got what they deserve."

The Shadow Gap: Broken Wagon

There is no sign of horses or drivers. As Fand and Jericho approach they see that there seems to be nothing at all wrong with the wagon except that the supplies within, mostly wine casks, appear to have toppled over as if the wagon had stopped quite suddenly.

Odder still, the harnesses that would tie the horses to the wagon are still knotted and buckled. The driver's seat holds empty clothes, as if whoever had been wearing them had suddenly vanished.