D&D 5E Storm King's Thunder

[TallIan]

Fistan
Wizard 1

As he entered the house Finnan noticed the dead couple. Pausing to whisper a brief prayer and beg forgiveness of the dead for the invasion, Finnan got to work with his ritual. As the first servant started to move timber a creature darted out from hiding.

Startled by the sudden flight of the creature, Finnan's second ritual is interrupted as it begins. Unable to contain his curiosity about the writing desk any more he abandons the ritual and looks it over, leaving just one servant to move timber to the bridge.

[SBLOCK=Rolls and OOC]
Search desk: 1D20+3 = [2]+3 = 5

Search desk with luck: 1D20+3 = [8]+3 = 11

I felt that on the off chance that there is mage related stuff to be found a luck point seamed appropriate.
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 12
AC: 12 (15 with mage armour, 17/20 with shield)
Initiative: +2
HP: 8/8 (HD: 1/1d6)

Conditions: Mage armour

Offense
Spell attack: +5 to hit Spell DC: 15
Firebolt: +5 to hit 120ft 1d10F
Quarterstaff: +1 1d6-1B

Luck: 2/3

Spells
CANTRIPS (3): FireBolt, Light, Minor Illusion
LEVEL 1: (1/2): *Mage Armour, *Shield, *Sleep, *Fog Cloud (C), Unseen Servant (R), Alarm (R)
[/SBLOCK]

 

[seriousmoonlight]

Fistan:

It appears that the goblin have yet to pillage this house. A search of the desk reveals evidence of profession (wax seals, jars of ink, blank scrolls, quill pens, land ownership documents, and tax records), along with a money pouch containing 32 gp and 17 sp. Nothing specifically mage related is found.

Tranio: With the help of your party, you safely swing across the gap.


Others: You watch pieces of timber magically float through the air. They land on the gap of the bridge, creating a makeshift walkway for you.

 

[TallIan]

Fistan
Wizard 1

Fistan looked through the documents, this building appeared to belong to a town clerk or registrar. Unwilling to loot the estate but aware that others might give Fistan pause. After a minute he decides to see who is left in the keep. The building is on the way out anyway.

He heads over to the gap in the drawbridge to find his recent companions waiting on the other side of the bridge.

[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 12
AC: 12 (15 with mage armour, 17/20 with shield)
Initiative: +2
HP: 8/8 (HD: 1/1d6)

Conditions: Mage armour

Offense
Spell attack: +5 to hit Spell DC: 15
Firebolt: +5 to hit 120ft 1d10F
Quarterstaff: +1 1d6-1B

Luck: 2/3

Spells
CANTRIPS (3): FireBolt, Light, Minor Illusion
LEVEL 1: (1/2): *Mage Armour, *Shield, *Sleep, *Fog Cloud (C), Unseen Servant (R), Alarm (R)
[/SBLOCK]

 

[seriousmoonlight]

Gatehouse & Courtyard:

Set into the motte's curtain wall are two windowless stone gatehouses with wood-shingled, high-pitched rooftops. Between them stands a set of oak doors with iron hinges. The doors can be barred shut from within, but they aren't currently.

The gatehouses are set aside as guard barracks. The east building contains six bunk beds (twelve beds in all) and a dozen footlockers containing worthless personal effects. The west building was similarly furnished, but a falling rock destroyed half the building's contents. The bodies of three guards lay under the rubble.

There are no signs of life in the courtyard, but plenty of evidence of a siege. You find the front doors to the keep unlocked, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. The nearby tower took heavy damaged and the crumbled wall provides easy access within.

Nandar Keep:

From the entrance, you can hear shouting straight ahead. This way leads to the great hall, which is half buried in rubble. Four guards are currently in this room. Two of them, a balding veteran and a dark skinned woman, are face to face in an argument. The other two guards are seated at the table drinking and crying. There are wine bottles strewn about.

A body is respectfully laid across the banquet table. It is of a beautiful middle aged woman in fancy noble attire.

They are all startled to see the party. "Who in the nine hells are you," the old soldier barks. "How did you all get across the bridge?"

 

[Charwoman Gene]

"I'm Bethany the Bold, Sir, I came here looking for work." says Bethany, sensing a person used to command, "I jumped. Kind of a foolhardy move, but I figured if there were any survivors, they'd be here. What happened here?"

 

[industrygothica]

Carolina remains silent while Bethany plays the face. She takes stock of the room and the deceased, and attempts to pick out any minor details that may shed light on what exactly is happening to this town.

OOC: Perception; Insight: 1D20+3 = [1]+3 = 4 1D20+1 = [13]+1 = 14 So much for perception... hopefully the insight check will turn up something.

---

[B]AC:[/B] 14; [B]HP:[/B] [COLOR=#FF000]9[/COLOR]/9
[B]Initiative:[/B] +3
[B]Saves:[/B] DEX +5, INT +4
[B]Passive Perception:[/B] 13
[B]Languages:[/B] Common, Halfling, Thieves' cant
[B]Skills:[/B] Acrobatics +7, Deception +2, Investigation +4, Perception +3, Sleight of Hand +4, Stealth +7
[B]Stats:[/B] Str 8 (+1), Dex 17 (+3) , Con 12 (+1), Int 14 (+2), Wis 13 (+1), Cha 11 (+0)

-[B]Inspiration[/B]? [ ] Yes, [[COLOR=#FF0000]X[/COLOR]] No

 

[Kobold Stew]

Tranio says a brief prayer on death as he stands by the mangled and crushed corpses. He does not know their own beliefs, but knows Death comes to all.

That done, he continues into the gate room. If he had heard Bethany's claim to be looking for work, he would say that's not true for him. There should be no need to lie to innocents suffering a recent loss. But as it is, he's not heard that, and so he goes to the dead woman, and reaches out. "May I say a prayer in memory of your mistress? What was her name?"

His voice is calm, practiced and in control. This is his job: helping others navigate the road of death. If any answers him, he will say something short but sincere.

 

[TallIan]

Fistan
Wizard 1

Fistan entered the room, wondering if he had met the woman before. He is content to let Bethany do the talking, people not being his favourite thing.

OOC: History check to identify noble: 1D20+5 = [2]+5 = 7 Sorry, auto fill put in the wrong character name, let this be a lesson to me for naming characters so similarly, but the low roll means I'm not likely to be cheating.

[SBLOCK=Mini Stats]
Passive Perception: 12
AC: 12 (15 with mage armour, 17/20 with shield)
Initiative: +2
HP: 8/8 (HD: 1/1d6)

Conditions: Mage armour

Offense
Spell attack: +5 to hit Spell DC: 15
Firebolt: +5 to hit 120ft 1d10F
Quarterstaff: +1 1d6-1B

Luck: 2/3

Spells
CANTRIPS (3): FireBolt, Light, Minor Illusion
LEVEL 1: (1/2): *Mage Armour, *Shield, *Sleep, *Fog Cloud (C), Unseen Servant (R), Alarm (R)
[/SBLOCK]

Sent from my Nexus 9 using Tapatalk

 

[KahlessNestor]

Nightstone
Evening
Round 0

Dren followed the others into the keep to where the guards mourned the dead woman. “Condolences,” the dwarf murmured. “Can ye explain wot ‘appened ‘ere?” he asked the guards. “We were travelin’ through an’ saw the town was damaged an’ abandoned.”

[sblock=Actions]
Move:
Action:
Bonus Action:
Reaction:

Conditions:
[/sblock]

[sblock=Stats]
AC: 14
HP: 5/11 HD: 1/1d8
Ki: 0/0
[/sblock]

 

[seriousmoonlight]

Carolina:

You sense that the people in the room are distraught and directionless now. Going off the number of wine bottles and lack of personal grooming, it appears they have been this way for several days now.

Fistan:

You don't recall ever meeting the woman on the table before. She is wearing purple and gold, the same colors as the flag outside. That banner featured a fox with a rose in it's mouth and you now notice that crest on all the guards' armor. Clearly this woman was a member of the Nandar family.

Bethany:

The guards are all visibly impressed with your feat on the bridge. “ You're a true soldier. It is a shame we no longer have a use for them,” the old man admits. “Nightstone has no lords, no villagers. Hell, Nightstone no longer even has a nightstone.”

Tranio:

The veteran eyes you for a second before nodding. “She was Lady Velrosa Nandar,” he explains solemnly. “The kindest Steward in all of Faerun.”

Dren:

The younger male guard hears your question and quickly downs his goblet of wine, eager to speak. “ We were attacked by evil gods,” he proclaims. “ The sky filled with dark storm clouds that rained down boulders. We had no way to defend ourselves.” His eyes fill with fear as he searches for the right words. “That is when the sky gods floated down. They must have been twenty feet tall and chiseled from stone,” the guard states before looking to his comrades for nods of agreement. “They lifted our namesake out of the town square, as if it weighed nothing, and fled.”

Eldrath:

You are the last one to enter the hall and the guards all double take. “ You brought along an Ardeep Savage,” the veteran asks to no one in particular, anger in his voice.