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Story Hour
Small Beginnings - Final Update 6/18/04, ITEOTWAWKI, AIFF!
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<blockquote data-quote="Enkhidu" data-source="post: 240445" data-attributes="member: 351"><p>Welcome to the Small Beginnings Story Hour!</p><p></p><p>While putting together our entry for the recent Wizards of the Coast open call for submissions, my team and I decided to keep some of the creative juices flowing by putting together a story account of our current campaign. I, being a longtime lurker on the ENWorld messageboards and avid reader of the story hour forum, suggested that we post our results here, in true ENWorld cliffhanger style. My DM jumped at the chance, and here's the result.</p><p></p><p>Characters in this campaign were created with the standard 4d6 for ability scores, and every player had to be connected with the village in which the action starts (for a period of at minimum one year of game time before play started). The idea was to see if small town heroes could eventually become the stuff of legend. WARNING: SINCE THIS STORY HOUR USES SOME OF THE IDEAS PRESENTED IN SOME OF THE WOTC MODULES IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS. The Sunless Citadel was used by the DM as a springboard for the action, so be prepared for some familiar names and faces as the action progresses.</p><p></p><p>This thread has been edited and some posts have been pruned. If you posted in this thread, please do not be alarmed.</p><p></p><p>Enjoy!</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>* * * * *</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>For once Pack had nothing to do. There were plenty of things that needed to be done with the festival only a few weeks away, but few offered Pack the audience and attention that his self esteemed sorely needed. The half-elven tavern owner Lizon was busy preparing the mid-day meal for the upcoming rush, while the few patrons of the Shimmering Sword were engrossed in discussing the day's farming news. He briefly considered helping Worm in the cellar but quickly dismissed the idea because of the number of spiders that tended to frequent the stores of ale. </p><p></p><p>While he tried to decide on what to do Pack wandered to the large bay window that spanned the front of the tavern. Outside, the streets of Icemist were abuzz with activity. Children scampered around the Tangle Pole, evading the imaginary spider webs as festival workers toiled above them on a makeshift scaffold. Brother Theo called out a greeting to the village constables Finfo and Dueca. Pack could imagine the serious nature of the issue that the aging widower was about to confront the two law officers with. The ex-priest was all business when it came to the running of his brother's estates. </p><p></p><p>Just as he was about to turn his attention back to his dilemma, Pack noticed the young woodsman Ander and his leprous friend cut across the square toward Buried Dwarf's Drygoods. Durnan, the stores owner and namesake, was on the porch waving hello. The olive skinned woodsman nodded back in reply but his gaze was clearly distracted by the young maiden Aurora who was exiting the store. The bandage wrapped beggar broke stride from Anders side to take his customary panhandling position outside the tavern as Aurora's strawberry blonde locks disappeared around the corner. </p><p></p><p>Lizon's musical voice pulled him back into the present. "Pack! Pack, honey! Be a dear and help your brother down in the cellar."</p><p></p><p>"Yes ma'am." Pack called back. Having Lizon call him honey always brightened the orphaned halfling's day. Pack didn't know how much help he would be to the large half-orc who was stacking kegs of ale but he vowed to do his best as he skipped off to help his adopted brother. </p><p></p><p>Pack rolled under the bar stop like a circus performer practicing for a tour through the capitol city of Tor and stopped as his eyes came to rest on the legendary sword that hung behind the bar. The great hand and a half sword had rested behind the bar ever since Pack could remember, a keepsake of Lizon's fallen husband: its cold steel a reminder of the great hero that had once wielded the massive blade. As his hand reached for the cellar post, an</p><p>azure glow erupted across the halfling's face. Looking up, Pack noticed that the blue glow bathed the entire room - to all in attendance it seemed that the Shimmering Sword had awakened.</p><p></p><p>The stunned halfling slowly peered over the bar to see if everyone else was beholding this spectacle. The look of awe that accompanied the silence was enough to tell the young bard that he was not alone in his amazement. Each face was mesmerized by the glowing blade, but when he finally turned to eye Lizon, a look of utter horror was all that greeted him. </p><p></p><p>Her words were barely audible to Pack's ears but they nearly knocked him from his feet. </p><p></p><p>"We're under attack."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Enkhidu, post: 240445, member: 351"] Welcome to the Small Beginnings Story Hour! While putting together our entry for the recent Wizards of the Coast open call for submissions, my team and I decided to keep some of the creative juices flowing by putting together a story account of our current campaign. I, being a longtime lurker on the ENWorld messageboards and avid reader of the story hour forum, suggested that we post our results here, in true ENWorld cliffhanger style. My DM jumped at the chance, and here's the result. Characters in this campaign were created with the standard 4d6 for ability scores, and every player had to be connected with the village in which the action starts (for a period of at minimum one year of game time before play started). The idea was to see if small town heroes could eventually become the stuff of legend. WARNING: SINCE THIS STORY HOUR USES SOME OF THE IDEAS PRESENTED IN SOME OF THE WOTC MODULES IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS. The Sunless Citadel was used by the DM as a springboard for the action, so be prepared for some familiar names and faces as the action progresses. This thread has been edited and some posts have been pruned. If you posted in this thread, please do not be alarmed. Enjoy! * * * * * For once Pack had nothing to do. There were plenty of things that needed to be done with the festival only a few weeks away, but few offered Pack the audience and attention that his self esteemed sorely needed. The half-elven tavern owner Lizon was busy preparing the mid-day meal for the upcoming rush, while the few patrons of the Shimmering Sword were engrossed in discussing the day's farming news. He briefly considered helping Worm in the cellar but quickly dismissed the idea because of the number of spiders that tended to frequent the stores of ale. While he tried to decide on what to do Pack wandered to the large bay window that spanned the front of the tavern. Outside, the streets of Icemist were abuzz with activity. Children scampered around the Tangle Pole, evading the imaginary spider webs as festival workers toiled above them on a makeshift scaffold. Brother Theo called out a greeting to the village constables Finfo and Dueca. Pack could imagine the serious nature of the issue that the aging widower was about to confront the two law officers with. The ex-priest was all business when it came to the running of his brother's estates. Just as he was about to turn his attention back to his dilemma, Pack noticed the young woodsman Ander and his leprous friend cut across the square toward Buried Dwarf's Drygoods. Durnan, the stores owner and namesake, was on the porch waving hello. The olive skinned woodsman nodded back in reply but his gaze was clearly distracted by the young maiden Aurora who was exiting the store. The bandage wrapped beggar broke stride from Anders side to take his customary panhandling position outside the tavern as Aurora's strawberry blonde locks disappeared around the corner. Lizon's musical voice pulled him back into the present. "Pack! Pack, honey! Be a dear and help your brother down in the cellar." "Yes ma'am." Pack called back. Having Lizon call him honey always brightened the orphaned halfling's day. Pack didn't know how much help he would be to the large half-orc who was stacking kegs of ale but he vowed to do his best as he skipped off to help his adopted brother. Pack rolled under the bar stop like a circus performer practicing for a tour through the capitol city of Tor and stopped as his eyes came to rest on the legendary sword that hung behind the bar. The great hand and a half sword had rested behind the bar ever since Pack could remember, a keepsake of Lizon's fallen husband: its cold steel a reminder of the great hero that had once wielded the massive blade. As his hand reached for the cellar post, an azure glow erupted across the halfling's face. Looking up, Pack noticed that the blue glow bathed the entire room - to all in attendance it seemed that the Shimmering Sword had awakened. The stunned halfling slowly peered over the bar to see if everyone else was beholding this spectacle. The look of awe that accompanied the silence was enough to tell the young bard that he was not alone in his amazement. Each face was mesmerized by the glowing blade, but when he finally turned to eye Lizon, a look of utter horror was all that greeted him. Her words were barely audible to Pack's ears but they nearly knocked him from his feet. "We're under attack." [/QUOTE]
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