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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4355564" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>It is a new encounter, but it only uses forces present in the module. </p><p></p><p>No, we'll see a few more races represented shortly. </p><p></p><p>Jaron is a ranger. </p><p></p><p>My books are on the way; while I have tentative stat blocks for the first four characters, I'm going to wait until I get the PH and can check my calculations. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 2</p><p></p><p></p><p>The key rattled in the lock, then the door creaked open, letting in a generous shaft of light. The storeroom was cluttered, but clean, without so much as a stray cobweb visible in the far corners. The only other light was a small window high along the far wall, set with closely spaced iron bars set into the casement. There wasn’t much concern about thievery in Fairhollow proper, but the halfling village was an island of order in a hostile land, and the buildings tended to be constructed with the needs of defense in mind. </p><p></p><p>Jaron stepped into the room, scanning the interior. He overlooked the shadowed spot between a pair of crates twice before a slight movement there brought his attention back. </p><p></p><p>“Beetle?”</p><p></p><p>The figure that emerged tentatively from the narrow crevice was a halfling, but one look was enough to indicate that he was different from most of his kin. His arms and legs were lean and gangly, and he moved with an unusual gait, almost as though his body wasn’t quite on the same exact page as his mind. Jaron could see that he’d been washed recently, but even so a fresh patina of dirt covered the front of his face. His shirt had been torn, and Jaron could make out a red stain along the edge of the rip. </p><p></p><p>“Beetle, are you all right? Did they hurt you?”</p><p></p><p>The halfling touched the rip, and shook his head. “No hurt. Hungry.”</p><p></p><p>Jaron drew out a small apple from his pocket, and tossed it to his cousin. Beetle snatched it out of the air, and devoured it, core and all, in a few bites. He grinned through a mouthful of fruit, the juice running down the corners of his mouth. </p><p></p><p>Jaron sighed. “I heard that you got into some trouble, Beetle.”</p><p></p><p>The other halfling shrugged. He glanced toward the door, but Jaron shut it decisively behind him before coming further into the room. “No trouble, Jayse.”</p><p></p><p>“Jaron. It’s Jaron. Don’t you remember, Beetle?” It was an old thing between them, the mistake in the name, but Jaron had to fight back a sudden thick feeling in his chest. Jaron wasn’t sure if his cousin couldn’t really tell the difference between him and his brother, or if it was just a game he played. It was hard to tell, with Belden. The halfling had been born... odd, as though he lived partly in another world that was not evident to the rest of the people of Fairhollow. His parents had done their best to shelter the boy, and Jaron and Jayse had protected him from other children, who were harsh judges of anything that was out of the norm. But the plague had carried off Beetle’s parents, and it had fallen on his grandmother Wanda, who’d been well upon venerable even back then, to care for the boy. Beetle loved the old woman, but as time passed he’d become more unruly, and even less predictable. </p><p></p><p>“Jaron,” Beetle said, smiling as he sprang up onto a cask, kicking the heels of his feet against the wood. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t break that,” Jaron said absently, his brow furrowed. He walked back and forth, looking for a solution that wasn’t there. </p><p></p><p>“Whacha matter, Jaron?”</p><p></p><p>“I have to go on a journey, Beetle. A long journey, to Winterhaven.”</p><p></p><p>“Go riding?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, I’m going on Callen’s cart.”</p><p></p><p>“Beetle come with?”</p><p></p><p>Jaron stopped pacing; they’d come to it. “Beetle... why did you kill Dale’s bull?”</p><p></p><p>Beetle’s grin vanished, and he fidgeted, causing the cask to wobble menacingly under him. “Bull not good. Bull bad, like Dale. In here,” he said, thumping his chest. </p><p></p><p>Jaron sighed. “I know Dale’s not the easiest person to get along with. But... Beetle, you know what you did, it was wrong. You know that?”</p><p></p><p>Beetle spun around, and the cask nearly toppled. The halfling was more agile than he looked, and he rode the circling barrel easily, shifting his weight on his muscled forearms. “You not know. I know, I see. Not good.”</p><p></p><p>“Not good,” Jaron said. “Beetle... you have to come with me. To Winterhaven. You have to promise me... you have to promise, that you won’t do anything like that again.”</p><p></p><p>Beetle completed his circuit, and the cask settled back onto the floor. “I promise, Jayse.” His grin was wide, and the troubled look that had been there a moment before was gone as if it had never existed. </p><p></p><p>Jaron’s worried frown, however, lingered.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4355564, member: 143"] It is a new encounter, but it only uses forces present in the module. No, we'll see a few more races represented shortly. Jaron is a ranger. My books are on the way; while I have tentative stat blocks for the first four characters, I'm going to wait until I get the PH and can check my calculations. * * * * * Chapter 2 The key rattled in the lock, then the door creaked open, letting in a generous shaft of light. The storeroom was cluttered, but clean, without so much as a stray cobweb visible in the far corners. The only other light was a small window high along the far wall, set with closely spaced iron bars set into the casement. There wasn’t much concern about thievery in Fairhollow proper, but the halfling village was an island of order in a hostile land, and the buildings tended to be constructed with the needs of defense in mind. Jaron stepped into the room, scanning the interior. He overlooked the shadowed spot between a pair of crates twice before a slight movement there brought his attention back. “Beetle?” The figure that emerged tentatively from the narrow crevice was a halfling, but one look was enough to indicate that he was different from most of his kin. His arms and legs were lean and gangly, and he moved with an unusual gait, almost as though his body wasn’t quite on the same exact page as his mind. Jaron could see that he’d been washed recently, but even so a fresh patina of dirt covered the front of his face. His shirt had been torn, and Jaron could make out a red stain along the edge of the rip. “Beetle, are you all right? Did they hurt you?” The halfling touched the rip, and shook his head. “No hurt. Hungry.” Jaron drew out a small apple from his pocket, and tossed it to his cousin. Beetle snatched it out of the air, and devoured it, core and all, in a few bites. He grinned through a mouthful of fruit, the juice running down the corners of his mouth. Jaron sighed. “I heard that you got into some trouble, Beetle.” The other halfling shrugged. He glanced toward the door, but Jaron shut it decisively behind him before coming further into the room. “No trouble, Jayse.” “Jaron. It’s Jaron. Don’t you remember, Beetle?” It was an old thing between them, the mistake in the name, but Jaron had to fight back a sudden thick feeling in his chest. Jaron wasn’t sure if his cousin couldn’t really tell the difference between him and his brother, or if it was just a game he played. It was hard to tell, with Belden. The halfling had been born... odd, as though he lived partly in another world that was not evident to the rest of the people of Fairhollow. His parents had done their best to shelter the boy, and Jaron and Jayse had protected him from other children, who were harsh judges of anything that was out of the norm. But the plague had carried off Beetle’s parents, and it had fallen on his grandmother Wanda, who’d been well upon venerable even back then, to care for the boy. Beetle loved the old woman, but as time passed he’d become more unruly, and even less predictable. “Jaron,” Beetle said, smiling as he sprang up onto a cask, kicking the heels of his feet against the wood. “Don’t break that,” Jaron said absently, his brow furrowed. He walked back and forth, looking for a solution that wasn’t there. “Whacha matter, Jaron?” “I have to go on a journey, Beetle. A long journey, to Winterhaven.” “Go riding?” “Yes, I’m going on Callen’s cart.” “Beetle come with?” Jaron stopped pacing; they’d come to it. “Beetle... why did you kill Dale’s bull?” Beetle’s grin vanished, and he fidgeted, causing the cask to wobble menacingly under him. “Bull not good. Bull bad, like Dale. In here,” he said, thumping his chest. Jaron sighed. “I know Dale’s not the easiest person to get along with. But... Beetle, you know what you did, it was wrong. You know that?” Beetle spun around, and the cask nearly toppled. The halfling was more agile than he looked, and he rode the circling barrel easily, shifting his weight on his muscled forearms. “You not know. I know, I see. Not good.” “Not good,” Jaron said. “Beetle... you have to come with me. To Winterhaven. You have to promise me... you have to promise, that you won’t do anything like that again.” Beetle completed his circuit, and the cask settled back onto the floor. “I promise, Jayse.” His grin was wide, and the troubled look that had been there a moment before was gone as if it had never existed. Jaron’s worried frown, however, lingered. [/QUOTE]
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