D&D 5E (IC) Scourge of Daggerford

[FitzTheRuke]

Enseth

As the Shield Guardian left the Castle, a hundred-year-old map of Daggerford recalled to his memory. He scanned for the Happy Cow Tavern, and finding it, he plotted a path. For a moment, he stood there under the Ducal Gate an looked down the grassy hill to the city before him. A feeling not unlike patriotic love for one's home came over him as he took in the various sights and sounds of the city before him.

On his left, people gathered before a large domed tower guilded in gold. A few stared at Enseth and chattered, and the Priest, in his shining golden clerical regalia made a disapproving frown at his loss of a grand display as he opened the large doors to allow the congregation to enter. Morninglow Tower, calculated Enseth.

Turning his head to his right, Enseth saw the Wizard's Tower, built as part of the city wall, but with a few additions (including three pointed roofs tiled in an unusual blue slate.) Delfen's Tower, calculated Enseth. The urgency of his mission was hard to resist, and he calculated that the Wizard would know more about Thayans than anyone else in the city, and could perhaps introduce him to allies for his quest. He had known the Wizard when he had been active, and was certain that he could be trusted. (It did not occur to him that the Wizard, by all probability, should not still be alive after all the years that Enseth had spent powered-down.)

OOC: Places of Daggerford: Morninglow Tower (Area 18) A beautifully gilded structure, Morninglow Tower is Daggerford’s temple of Amaunator. Standing over the rest of the town, it shines proudly on the hill next to the outer walls of the ducal castle. The stone side that faces the town is decorated with rosy stones and glittering quartz, creating the image of a shining sun in homage to Amaunator. That side is a facade, since the eastern wall is open to the rising sun (and to the arrows of defenders if the tower is ever taken during a siege). Self-important and blustery Luc Sunbright leads worship in the tower. The ducal family worships at this temple, and Luc considers the duke’s favour to be a mark of distinction he has somehow earned, despite the fact that dukes of Daggerford have worshiped here since long before he was born. The priest is very class conscious, and farmers and merchants who come to rites at this temple can find themselves brushed aside in favour of wealthier folk.

OOC: Places of Daggerford: Delfen's Tower (Area 8) A curious feature of Daggerford’s walls is Delfen’s Tower. When the wizard Delfen first came to Daggerford, this tower was under construction. He paid the town well to take over the tower in exchange for swearing to help protect Daggerford. This he did to the best of anyone’s reckoning, until his disappearance. Delfen was presumed dead, and the duke’s guards reclaimed the tower, loading all the wizard’s goods into crates they stored on the ground floor. Those on duty in the tower frequently complained of unexplained lights and eerie noises, but nothing came of such phenomena. Then many decades later, Delfen returned, looking not a day older. Darfin Floshin and other long-lived citizens confirmed it was Delfen, but the mage would not explain his absence. He again offered a large sum and his oath for use of the tower. Like the other wall-towers, this one is three stories tall: The top story is Delfen’s living quarters. He uses the second story to meet guests, and teach and house students he takes on. The first story contains a stable for his riding mule and is used for storage. The tower’s arrow loops are small, since they’re intended to allow Delfen to target spells. The windows facing the town are larger, providing a him with a good view of the city.

 

[Kobold Stew]

As he walked in he looked around for his friends and grinned as he sidled up to the table. "Hoy Tommi, Lionel!"

Tommi looks up when Dandin calls his name. "Your'e just in time to buy the next round!" he says cheerily, and then rapidly downs what's in his class at the moment.

"Thanks so much!" he says with a grin, before continuing a story about an castle that kept losing one brick per night. For years this went on. Guards increased. The king was desperate. When he died, his son took over, and still a brick went missing overnight. The mystery was never solved, but Tommi's theory was that an elven thief was once spurned, and that this was his slow-burning revenge.

 

[Archon Basileus]

As Drui awoke, he felt compelled to continue his search on the metaphysical tenets of his faith, abandoning history altogether. He felt assured that the answers he sought would be found out in the world, and not in a text, and that answers would be coming soon...

As Drui washed himself and prepared for his day, he reflected upon the dream that had visited his mind that night. He reminded himself of the many times he had seen old warriors in similar situation, minds sleeping away and skills rusting off because of bitter memories and overbearing age. The strange dream might have been simply the musings of his concerned mind, contemplating the temple as it eroded away from everyone's attention.

After dressing up, Drui considers a visit to the very places where the dead are honored in the city. His mind fights the notion, though, reminding him of the weight of others' presences. 'Alas, such is the toll of my duties', he thinks, and decides to set off to the Table of the Sword. There, he thinks, he might find a task with a more 'hands-on' approach, and maybe he can start to set an example... A good example.

Before he leaves his improvised quarters, he scribbles a few notes, leaving his directions to anyone interested in knowing them, as well as an invitation to join, just in case. He takes his cloak, fastens his belt and leaves, not before kicking a few rats away from his belongings.

[Drui leaves for the Table of the Sword. If he sees an opportunity, he might as well try to talk his way towards the barracks. He wants to discover if there are any fighter work to be done. Also, he keeps an eye for any cats he can get and tame, or that he might get tamed from someone - taking care not to be cheated in the process. If the rats aren't going, he might as well make dinner out of them.]

 

[KahlessNestor]

Angis Honack
The Happy Cow
Early afternoon

Angis glances over at the enthusiastic halfling and the human boy, shaking his head. He wasn’t that old, as far as dwarves go, but he still had decades on those two. Ah, he hoped life would be kinder to them than it had been to him. But he doubted it.

“Leave the bottle,” Angis told Wilhelmina when she brought him the whiskey. He filled a glass and tossed it back, feeling the burn on the way down. Good dwarven whiskey. He poured another glass, and this one he took his time, nursing it.

[sblock=Angis’ Actions]
Move:
Action:
Conditions:
Concentration:
Inspiration:
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[sblock=Mini Stats]
Initiative: +1
Perception: +4
Speed: 25
AC: 14
HP: 13/13 HD: 1/1d10

Prepared Spells:

Spell Slots Remaining/Total
[/sblock]

[sblock=Party]
Tommi - human rogue
Lionel Hardcheese - halfling rogue
Dandin - halfling bard
Snake of Trees - tabaxi sorcerer
Enseth - warforged war cleric
Angis Honack - dwarven ranger
Titus - human fighter
Drui Holderhock - dwarven cleric of Tempus
[/sblock]

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Tommi, Dandin, Lionel, and Angis

With only a few drinks into them, the halflings had whatever inhibitions they might possess emboldened and they asked the maudlin dwarf to join them. At first, he refused, and returned to his whiskey. Tommi told outlandish tales, and he told them well. The halflings laughed. Their honest joy and youthful vitality puzzled the dwarf, but in spite of himself, he found it somewhat infectious. He nodded as they sang a song, and he very nearly chuckled when they danced on the table and were told sternly by Wilhelmina Hardcheese to "Take that tomfoolery elsewhere!"

It was entirely against his will and better judgement (and probably down to the whiskey) that Angis found himself, dragged by the arms on their way out the door, in company with the youthful trio. They went onto the streets of Daggerford, past the Caravan Gate, across the Drill Field, on their way to the Daggerthrust Alehouse.

The Drill Field was crowded. It appeared that a match was taking place, and all bets were in place. A ring of spectators surrounded two combatants. Word was, this was the culmination of a week-long unofficial tournament, and this was the final fight.

GM: More on that in a bit.

OOC: Places of Daggerford: Daggerthrust Ales (Area 31) Sturgin and Halla Brewer, the human couple that owns Daggerthrust Ales, have devoted themselves to the production of drink in new styles. Unlike the sweet, dark ales that other locals make from barley, the Brewers experiment with beers in the style of the famous Golden Sands Brewery in Calimshan, as well as with herbal ingredients such as heather from the High Moor and hops specially imported from the south. Halla is a Calishite, and her preference for the drink of her homeland pushed her husband, a man with a long family tradition of brewing, to try new things. It took a while to win over the locals, but travelers with more varied palates kept the business afloat while Sturgin and Halla made their case with free samples to influential folk. Now the release of a new brew is a much-anticipated event. Daggerthrust Ales—named in honor of the legend of Tyndal and the sharper taste of its beers—supplies the River Shining Inn, Lady Luck Tavern, the Otter’s Run, and the castle with drink.

 

[Kobold Stew]

"Take that tomfoolery elsewhere!"

"Tommi Foolery," corrected Tommi, as they are asked to leave by Wilhemena.

As they enter the Drill Field by Daggerthrust Ales, Tommi starts learning about the competitors, and whether there are odds.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

OOC: Sorry for any confusion: The Drill Field is outside of Daggerthrust Ales.

 

[Fradak]

OOC: Here you have a good exemple of pure procrastination at work. I could just have said something like: "Enseth goes to the tower" but, you know... I feel bad now.

[sblock]

[/sblock]

 

[gargoyleking]

Dandin leaned against a handy rail to watch while rubbing his fifth apple against his sleeve and attempting to get a nice shine out of it. The first apply had been devoured so fast that it barely registered. The second only slightly less so. After that, the halfling had taken his time coring and splitting the fruit. Nobody that knew him was surprised of course. He drank little alchohol, but instead ate what seemed to be his weight in apples each day. His name was more a title, but he liked it so much he took it as his own.

He wasn't terribly interested in these fights, but he feigned interest for his friends sakes.

Squirrels are evil!

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Titus Ashfield-Bunting

Titus had done well in these matches so far - in particular in the rounds of wooden-sword dueling (three-touch affairs) that had preceded today's final, tougher fight: to the yield. He had used much of the cleverness he was born with (developed through an expensive education) and his good, strong sword-arm to defeat several opponents up to this point. But today, he felt tired. The long days of training and bouts were beginning to wear on him, and he wasn't sure if he could win today. He looked out the window of the Barracks (where the final few combatants were held awaiting the match) and saw the large crowd that had formed.

His "aunt", Lady Morwen (really a distant cousin; the Duke's sister) sat astride a beautiful horse, above the crowd where she could see him fight. A dwarf cleric led a small group of old-soldiers from the Table of the Sword, and Titus watched as Lady Morwen bade the crowd to make room for them. They bowed and gathered around her horse, their faces lighting up as they forgot their worries for a brief moment. He watched as some halflings, having arrived late, and too short to see above the crowd, rearranged a table in front of the Daggerthrust ales. They leaned the table upright against a roof-post and climbed up where they could see. One of them pulled an apple from his coat and began to chew it vigorously while leaning on the post.

"'Tis time, Lad." said Jekk, opening the barrack's door. The dwarf had been a prize pit-fighter in his youth and had proved to be an excellent coach, "This is the big one. Watch 'is left."

Titus left the barracks to the cheers of the crowd which parted to let him in to the circle, drawn in dark soot, and packed tight with spectators. He saw his opponent, a big grim riverman a few year's his senior, nod to him with respect. Jekk handed him two heavy sticks and the crowd hushed as Lady Morwen lifted a hand, "Begin!" she said, lowering the hand (not one for speeches.)

Titus and the riverman took a few passes at each other, smashing their sticks together. They came at each other again, and Titus whacked the big man in the thigh - but this wasn't a point-match, and it was like hitting a tree. As Titus raised his off-hand stick to defend, the riverman forced it down with his right, and smashed him in the face with the stick in his left. His eyes watered and his ears rang, and for a moment, Titus felt he would like to let the ground take him. But as the big man came at him for another blow, he ducked to the side, and struck the man twice in his ribs, under his arm.

The crowd cheered and Titus was able to move away and wipe his eyes and shake his head as the river-man, winded, sucked in some air. They made a few more passes at each other, clacking their sticks together, ducking and blocking. Titus' keen mind (even through the fog of the blow) calculated that when the man went for his biggest blows, like the one that had connected, he left the right side of his face exposed. Titus would have to invite a similar attack to find the opening he needed. It was all or nothing.

Stepping in, he left his guard down. He could hear Jekk groan behind him and curse him for a fool. The big man came in, smashing Titus' main stick away with his right and making a big swing with his left. Just in time, Titus ducked under the blow and brought his own left swinging into the riverman's right temple. The big man's head spun around, and his body followed. He hit the ground hard and was slow to climb to his knees. By then, Titus was standing over him with both sticks above his head. The big man smiled, missing a tooth, and nodded, "Yield."

The crowd erupted into cheers.

GM: Jekk gives Titus his share of the winnings (20 gold) and Lady Morwen will give him a healing potion for his face. (He's tough, he can keep it for the future, if you like). From his ringing head, which will take a few days to recover, he has 1 level of exhaustion.

OOC: Places of Daggerford: The Barracks and Drill Field (Area 1) By agreement with the duke, the town maintains its own militia, trained by the duke’s soldiers. All able-bodied townsfolk must serve in the militia, although only a small number are normally on duty. While serving in the militia, the townsfolk must live at the barracks, and spend days either on duty, or training in the drill field. Otherwise, they spend most of their time on road patrols, keeping a close watch on the Lizard Marsh to the west, or on loan to fortresses that owe fealty to the Duke, such as Cromm's Hold. The militia often has trouble hanging on to its veteran members. In search of more income, veterans will often hire themselves out as mercenaries or caravan guards. A few even take up adventuring careers.