[3.5] The Storm Coast

[Mark Chance]

Long ago, a small but mighty humanoid kingdom existed in what is now the Storm Coast. Bugbear and ogre warriors fought brutal wars of expansion, earning great fame and amassing considerable fortunes from their predations. Those who died in battle were buried in large tomb complexes dug into hillsides and honored as patrons of the living. Among these tombs was the large tor known as Hightower. Though it was neither the largest nor the most famous of the kingdom's tombs, Hightower did represent a typical example of this kind of structure.

The cruel humanoid kingdom eventually fell to the Sea Queen. Her armies razed all its cities and outlying fortifications as the Lady of the Waves carved out her new realm. Of the tombs, only Hightower escaped destruction -- largely because it was an unimportant monument in a modestly remote location. A few tribes of humanoids that survived the devastation tried to use it as a fortress, but the humans with whom they clashed defeated them soundly. Since then, Hightower has served as a landmark for travelers in the know, but it has otherwise been largely forgotten.

You and your comrades are travelers in the know. Hightower looms atop its tor just to the west, which means you are the right road to reach Seawall, a small but prosperous trading town. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like the weather is going to cooperate. Dark clouds roil in the sky, lit from within by near constant lightning. The electrical storms that give the Sea Queen's realm its name have plagued the area in recent days, and they have been quite severe. Neither man nor beast is safe out of doors during these storms. The first heavy, cold drops of rain start to fall. Hightower stares down at you, the only shelter for miles around.

A small group of travelers hunkers their shoulders against the cold rain as they consider their options: continue on through what is likely going to be some violent weather or take refuge in Hightower.

OOC: Okay, we're up and running!

 

[Rhun]

Isóriand, wood elf ranger

The tall elf pauses a moment, a few paces ahead of the rest of the company, to survey the scene ahead. His emerald eyes flash in the deep recesses of his hooded cloak as he eyes the tower and the worsening weather. "The storm only looks like it will be getting worse," he says, almost shouting so that the rest can hear him over the sound of the wind and pouring rain. "We should should seek shelter at Hightower. If we stay out here much longer, we will surely take our deaths of cold, if we are lucky enough not to be struck by lightning."

 

[Sphyh]

With a heavy sigh Theopholis pauses and listens. Realizing the elf is right he lowers his shoulders and adjusts his pack square onto his back with a slight hop. He then silently nods in agreement as he starts in the direction of the tower assuming the others have enough common sense to get in out of the rain as well.

 

[Giant Boy]

Lyryc

Hmmm...I agree, I would rather be out of the rain than be struck by lightning, says the divine bard as he plays his harp in the tune of the weather.

OOC: I'll soon get around to finishing Lyryc on the weekend ASAP.

 

[HolyMan]

"Lightning?!... You want to see lightning? I can," the old grey bearded wizard starts to say. "No wait... that spell is gone also," he sighs.

Looking to the sky he nods "Yes, let's get out of this, I hate when my beard gets wet." He pulls his hat down low and tightens the cloak over his shoulders as he follows Theopholis.

[sblock=spells]
Spells Prepared:
0lvl- Detect Magic, Read Magic, Disrupt Undead
1lvl- Burning Hands, Detect Undead
[/sblock]

 

[Mark Chance]

Hightower looms above the surrounding countryside from its hilltop. Climbing the narrow, rain-slick path up to the tower, it can be seen that the hill itself has a few narrow ledges, but these would offer scant protection from the elements. At the base of Hightower is a massive, arched entryway at least 20 feet tall and 10 feet wide. The ground just outside it slopes away from the doorway, directing the falling water out and away. Given this fact and the sturdy nature of the tower, whatever space lies beyond the door should be both dry and safe from lightning and the freezing rain.

The door into the tower is heavy but well counterweighted. It is unlocked and open easily. It is also noted that the door is hung in such a way that it will shut of its own accord unless proppped open.

The shadow-filled stone chamber beyond the entrance measures at least ten paces square. Peeling paint and broken scrollwork suggest that it was once decorated with some care, but now only dust remains. Three massive stone doors - one each to the left and right, and one directly across from the entrance - lead out of the chamber and almost certainly into the hill itself given how Hightower is constructed.

Almost as soon as these details are taken in, a flame flares up near the left door. A man squats against the wall there, puffing a pipe he is lighting with a tindertwig. He wears plain but heavy robes, cinched about his waist with a hemp cord. To his left is a backpack. To his right, leaning against the wall, is a halberd.

"Storm peace," he says, exhaling a cloud of bluish smoke. He shakes out the tindertwig and is swallowed by shadows again. "So, how about this weather?"

[sblock=Campaign Fluff!]
The custom of storm-peace evolved long ago in response to the sudden and severe storms that plague this area. The basic concept is that an automatic truce exists between all individuals and groups who seek shelter in neutral territory during a lightning storm. Such weather is simply too dangerous for fighting, regardless of people’s feelings toward one other. Storm-peace is assumed to be in effect unless someone specifically rejects it. Even so, whenever two strangers meet during a lightning storm, they often greet one another by asking “Storm-peace?” simply to ensure that the other knows and respects the tradition.
[/sblock]

 

[Rhun]

Isóriand's hand goes to the hilt of his blade as he sees the flame flare up, but as the man invokes storm-peace he exhales and calms himself. "Storm peace," he offers in return, nodding at the man. "The weather is most foul this day," he continues, moving a bit closer to the newcomer. "I am Isóriand Aethirius of the elves. Who might you be?"

 

[Sphyh]

Theopholis upon entry stands and holds the massive door open as the group enters. Once everyone enters he lodges a loose stone in the doorway to prevent the door from shutting completely, letting a sliver of natural lighting and ventilation into the room.

Shaking the water droplets off his cloak he then lowers his bag to the ground and sets his cloak on top of it next to the wall. At the mention of storm peace Theopholis simple nods in recognition and continues to dry himself and his equipment off allowing Isoriand to be the diplomatic one.

He then sits next to his equipment with his sword in his lap and sighs and relaxes for the first time in what seems like days.

 

[HolyMan]

Shuddering from the cold and wet Ragg moves to the near wall inside the door. When the flame flares up he automatically starts the gestures for a Dispel Magic spell.

Nothing happens.

"Guess I had that one prepared on the quick so much it just comes to me naturally," he says looking at his hands. Shaking his head the old man sighs then mumbles something about "storm-peace" and goes to sit and brood against the wall.

 

[Mark Chance]

"Storm peace," he offers in return, nodding at the man. "The weather is most foul this day," he continues, moving a bit closer to the newcomer. "I am Isóriand Aethirius of the elves. Who might you be?"

The man reaches over and pulls his pack in front of him.

"They call me...Oswald," he says, rummaging in the pack to pull out a parcel wrapped in soft leather. "I know. Not the kind of name that merits a dramatic pause." He unwraps the parcel and holds up its contents for Isóriand to see. "Pepper bread. It'll help warm you up. There's not much, but there are only five of us."