D&D 5E [5e] One shot - Frolic and Fire [IC] [FULL]

[mips42]

Quick DM's note: I’m glossing over a bunch of stuff to try to get to the “interesting bits”. Feel free to add as desired.


The life of an adventurer is hectic and dangerous. At least some of the time. The rest of the time, unless you’re industrious and willing to work, it can be dull and not at all easy to keep your belly full. This has definitely been one of those times. The last job was good, even if the pay was merely okay, and, after buying supplies, a tankard of ale or four and a few meals, the coin pouch was looking a little thin. That’s when you heard about a job in Esmer. A podunk fishing town on the edge of Lake Usta. It wasn’t much: a simple caravan guard job. Only 2 silver a day plus meals, But it was something.

Travel was easy. The land was rolling foothills with long grass dotted by occasional clumps of trees. A light breeze bends the grasses in rolling waves and the sky was cloudy and grey, with the smell of coming rain. Even the birds knew it, they were headed for the trees or other shelter when the rain started. Slowly, almost reluctantly at first, it came in a fine mist that dampened everything. Then came the real rain. Big, heavy, soaking drops dumped from the sky in near torrential downpour. Small streams quickly formed in the valleys between the small hills, but you were smart enough to stay to the high ground and even find a lone tree that, only somewhat surprisingly, had several others headed for it as well.
Although cautious and wary, the tree was the best source of shelter for miles in any direction. So, with the pelting rain continuing into the night, you spend a fairly damp evening around a very smoky fire exchanging names and tales of where you’ve been, the things you’ve seen and dangers you may have faced.

 

[JustinCase]

Quickly finding a spot on one of the branches, the feline humanoid known to some as Whispers on the Wind observes the others while lying comfortably on the bark. The ochre fur that covers his body, crisscrossed with dusky-gray blotches, shines with moist and smells like wet cat, the green eyes reflect the light from the fire as the tabaxi studies each in turn. The catfolk is dressed in sturdy traveller's clothes, a leather armor underneath, and both a backpack and a sack are placed nearby on other branches of the tree.

Whisper, as he is known for short, sees an old human man, a beardless dwarf, and an imposing giant of a man, among others. What an odd assortment of people! The tabaxi shivers, maybe from the misty cold, then closes his eyes and seems to be sleeping.

 

[KahlessNestor]

Wilderness
Night

OOC: I don’t recall getting the loot division from Legends are Born, the last adventure Milady was on. When I get that sorted, there are likely some things I will purchase in the “before” of this adventure.

Milady huddled down by the fire, her cloak pulled around her against the rain. Her traveling clothes were of fine make, though worn, as she hadn’t had a decent paying job in a while. Her leather armor, the rapier, hand crossbow, and dagger beneath her cloak were of fine make and well cared for, the leather corset a deep scarlet, almost black in the night, giving nice lift to her buxom bosom, her pants black, the cloak a deep forest green. She wore a wide brimmed black hat pulled down low over her features. Her blonde hair hung in wet strands framing her beautiful face and keen, if miserable, entrancing blue eyes. She had removed the black half mask she usually wore. With the low firelight and the hat pulled down, it was doubtful her companions would get a good look a her, and unlikely they would recognize the Lady Clarisse de Winter of Waterdeep. It was even less likely they would recognize the peasant girl Riyoco Tesin, wanted in Baldur’s Gate for theft and murder.

Milady stabbed a piece of the game hen roasting over the fire with her dagger and delicately picked at the steaming, greasy meat as she ate and studied her companions on this job. She knew Badger, that crazy old mage, from the job at Skulltop Hill, where she’d left him studying his magic in the cave there. The dwarf was new. Who ever heard of a beardless dwarf? She’d never thought a dwarf could get uglier, but… The tabaxi in the trees above she knew professionally. He’d fenced a few things for her. And he was a perfumer, ironically. She would have loved to have come to him as Clarisse de Winter, but she was careful about keeping her two lives separate.

Gods, but it was nights like this that she missed her feather bed in Waterdeep. If the creditors hadn’t taken it away yet.

Damn it, Bretson! she cursed her deceased husband.

[sblock=Actions]
Action:
Move:
Bonus:
Free:
Conditions:
[/sblock]

[sblock=Milady’s Mini Stats]
Inspiration: 0
AC: 15
HP: 20/20 HD: 2/2d10+2
Init: +3
PP: 10
PI: 12
Bolts: 38 Used: 0
Second Wind (1/R 1d10+2)
[/sblock]

[sblock=Loot]
[/sblock]

 

[tglassy]

Badger muttered to himself as he tried to dry out his robes. He seemed to be picking at a contraption he wore over the robes, every now and then whipping out a small rod, pointing it at a part and saying some strange words. Then, with a crackle of energy, a small hymn filled the air for a moment before fading.

“Ah,” He said, as the rain seemed to stop inches above his robes. Satisfied he weird armor was working, he looked at the others. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make my tea.”

Badger proceeded to produce a teapot, filled with water, from his robes, and make himself some tea.

The smell of that tea was the most fouls of smells, nearly enough to singe the whiskers off a cat. When done, Badger happily pours himself a glass, takes a long, fast swig, grimacing a few times as he smacked his lips in disgust, then sits back.

“Anyone know any good ghost stories?”

 

[EarlyBird]

The heavily armored half-giant sits with his back to the tree, his bald head resting against the trunk. A huge two handed hammer leans against the trunk beside him, it's stone head wrapped in leather fixing it to the haft and strange swirling designs carved into the flat sides of the stone.

As he moves he jingles like a bunch of tiny bells, and then stops abruptly as he feels he is making to much noise. His grim expression turns to the wizard Badger as the man asks for a ghost story.

"The spirits of those who have failed to move on from this world are not to be spoken of. Their tragedies are to be mourned and taken as a warnings to those who fail to do right by their gods in this world." He turns away to hide his own shame in speaking of the dead so openly.

"We should be thankful we have found shelter, and companionship this day."

[sblock=Combat]
AC: 16 (chainmail)
HP: 10/10 HD: 1/1 (1d8+2)
Speed: 30'
Saves: STR +3, DEX +0, CON +2, INT -1, WIS +4, CHA +3
Features: voice of authority 1/1
Special Defenses: stone's endurance 1/1

Combat:
warhammer +5 attack, 1d8+3 bludgeoning, two-handed
dagger(melee) +5 attack, 1d4+3 piercing, finesse, light
dagger(thrown) +5 attack, 1d4+3 piercing, finesse, light, thrown, (range 20/60)
Spell Slots: 1st: 2/2
Cantrips: resistance, spare the dying, light
Spells Prepared: command, herosim, bless, protection from good and evil, healing word

Consumables:
torches 10/10
rations 10/10[/sblock]

 

[tglassy]

Badger looks confused at the half giant's words. "Who said anything about the Spirits of the dead? I meant Ghost Peppers! I've been looking for a new source. You want fire? Now they have fire. Once saw a guy eat one raw! The whole thing in one bite. He fell over vomiting blood! I collected some of it for experimentation. Found it was quite useful in making Fire Spells. Quite useful indeed."

 

[Charwoman Gene]

The shaggy, hide covered dwarf grumbles. "Ghost peppers? Ah, my clan would grow and use spices from the underdark that would curl your toes. Alas that life is behind me now. "

 

[tglassy]

"I must have eaten something from there at one point," Badger said, pulling off his shoe and showing a gnarly old foot. "Cause I haven't been able to get this toe from curling for a least two decades, now."

 

[Archon Basileus]

Kantor moves up, his head low, his small arms struggling to keep a piece of cloth above his head. All in vain: the thing got soaked and now dripped over his head.

Ashe reaches cover, he shrugs the worst of it on the grass. He glances around, breathing through his mouth as usual. Beneath his mustache, a half-way smile is petrified. His eyes roll around, acknowledging the strangers. He tatters around his coat until he finds a small water skin. He opens it, takes a sip, and offers it to Milady as a friendly gesture.

"Something to warm the bones"

Glancing around, his thoughts trailed back to his last endeavors, before joining the caravan. "You've been careless, Kantor" - he thought to himself. "And now look at you. No cart, no mule, no wares to sell... Wet to the bone amidst strangers." Kantor had gone to this small village, promising to cure their diseased cattle with a miracle concoction. But he got greedy when he saw the mayor's daughters jewel collection. Sweet-talking his way into their house took a bit longer then expected. And before he noticed, he was being confronted by a meddling, do-gooder druid. Accused of fraud and marked for the dungeons he ran, leaving most of his possessions behind. With him, he brought only a backbpack, some coins and a few personal possessions - as well as a few things he 'borrowed' along the way, of course.

 

[EarlyBird]

Lu-Manno just grunts at the jesting old man, as he wiggles his toes. He folds his arms and bows his head either lost in thought or perhaps in prayer.

OOC: Gods grant me strength. I'm not sure Lu-Manno's grimness will be able to live with Badger's essentrictness LOL

 

[mips42]

The evening is soggy and rather miserable but, around midnight, the rain actually stops. Watches are set and you manage to get a few hours of decent sleep before morning arrives. it is cool, damp and cloudy with the threat of more rain, but at least for now, the rain has stopped and you decide to press on.
For several more days the rain comes in fits and spurts. Sometimes in a fine mist that is easy to bear, other times in sheeting droves that soak to the bone in mere moments. Near the end of the fourth day the group crests a small hill and, in the valley below, get your first view of Esmer and Lake Usta.
A thick layer of wood smoke lays over the collection of fourty or so buildings while, out on the lake, you can just make out several boats and an island in the distance. On the outskirts you can see several farmhouses as well as a number of wagons and tents just to the north of the town.
It is just on the edge of darkness when the group makes it to town. Only a few people roam the streets at this hour, chief among them what you guess is the local guards, dressed in simple leather armor that has had an “E” embossed onto it. A few questions leads you to a simple inn, apparently called “Fishin'”.
The inn itself is stone from the ground to about three feet up and then wood for the rest of the first floor as well as The second floor.
Inside, the floor, while wet, is clean and well kept, there is a well-tended fireplace with several hooks beside it, some of which are occupied by simple cloaks and hats. It is reasonably well lit with tallow candles on the tables and lanterns on the walls as well as some more lanterns somewhat regularly spaced hanging from the ceiling beams. The few patrons that occupy the place look up briefly when you come in, several calling out to shut the door but, otherwise, there is only light chatter in the common room.
Once inside the smell of warm bread and well roasted meat reaches you, as well as those of ale and other spirits. The innkeeper is an older male human with scruffy brown hair, a weathered face and a warm smile. He has a simple homespun smock and a light leather apron over. He smiles his warm smile and says “Ey Dere, I think I caught fish what was drier'n you lot. Pull up a seat by the fire and dry off. Yer fer wanting anyting udder thun ter get yerselves dry?”

 

[JustinCase]

Whisper walks into the inn and shakes out the moist in his fur, splattering drops of water onto several of his companions. Then he yawns and stretches his arms above his head, and blinks, once, twice.

"Fish," the tabaxi says with a curious accent in response to the innkeeper's query. "Whisper would like fresh fish, and some milk."

Without waiting for a response, Whisper walks up to the fire place, drops his sack and backpack on the floor, and then sits down on the ground besides it. From within the dry safety of his pack, he takes a ball of yarn and starts fidgeting with it for a few seconds before, with feline flexibility, the tabaxi curls himself into a bundle as if ready to sleep. He keeps his eyes open, however, looking at the other patrons while waiting for his fish and drink.

OOC: Just gauging the other patrons to see if any of them seem like "the local messengers, corrupt caravan masters, and seedy sailors who can deliver messages for you" that the Criminal Contact feature implies. Not doing anything with that information at the moment, just curious.

 

[JustinCase]

OOC: Wisdom check: [roll0]

 

[Charwoman Gene]

"Ale. Ale and meat. I'll take fish if that's all you have." Thandar stands near the fire trying to warm his tired bones.

 

[EarlyBird]

The tall goliath ducks under the doorway out of habit, and takes in the simple common room. He gives a half-bow to the innkeep out of respect. Then greets the man in his deep voice, "The God's Blessings to you and your welcomed establishment, good Innkeep. We wish to warm ourselves a moment, for which we will gladly compensate you, and ask you for but a bit of information."

The goilath waits and watches the tabaxi start to curl up, and gives a half-frown to the feline's antics, not even asking first, as if this was his own home and not the hearth of another. Shaking his head slightly he turns back to the waiting innkeeper. "I saw some tents and wagons north of town. Would that be the caravan we heard was hiring on?"

 

[mips42]

"Tents? Ah, bugger. Eh, Aldrey! Was fishin' good teday?"
"Neh," Says another human. He is medium height and thin. His head and face are tanned and leathery from years of being on the water. He wears a rough leather smock, ratty hose and leather shoes. Were nuthin bitin' teday."
"Raining like we's at the bottom of the ocean and fish ain't bitin'? That'll likely be Gravos and his lot. They's nice enough and puts on a good show but, somehow, things is never right when theys about. As fer a caravan, that'll be from the ward. Dengo's place. Big warehouse by the docks. Ye cant miss it. Stop by when it's light and he'll take care o' ye. Will you lot be wantin' rooms fer the night?"
[sblock=Insight>15] the innkeeper seems surprised and somewhat excited that this interesting group of individuals might want to stay in his inn...[/sblock]

 

[Charwoman Gene]

"I could do for a bed."

 

[EarlyBird]

OOC: Insight: [roll0]

"It is late," Lu Manno says looking at Whisper. "And some of us seem to have taken up shelter already. We will be needing warm dry rooms for the night. Thank you."

 

[KahlessNestor]

Esmer/Fishin’
Evening

Milady gave the proffered water skin a skeptical look, but accepted it from the gnome and took a tentative sip. She coughed and covered her mouth with a ladylike hand. I wasn’t that she couldn’t handle hard liquor. She just preferred something more...sophisticated, and that stuff was foul rotgut.

“I am good, thanks,” Milady coughed. But it did warm her, and actually lulled her a bit toward sleep, despite the rain.

Several more days of fitful rain plague their travels, but finally they arrive at their destination. Milady is grateful for the simple inn. She removed her cloak and shook it out, glad to be somewhere dry.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Milady said mellifluously, with lady-like grace, before cursing like a drunken sailor as that damn cat shook out his fur all over her leathers.

“Something warm,” Milady told the innkeeper. “That bread smells good. And wine. Calimshan or Amnian, if you have it. If you don’t…” She shrugged. “I guess whatever your best is, then.” She didn’t have high hopes for a small town inn. She moved to the fire and stretched her hands toward the warmth, taking off her hat and shaking out her wet blonde hair, though she left on the mask. Several patrons stared at the gorgeous, buxom beauty bathed in firelight.

“And a room would be wonderful. I would love a bed after sleeping in the rain and mud for a week. I don’t suppose you have a bath?”

[sblock=Actions]
Insight: 1D20+2 = [2]+2 = 4
Action:
Move:
Bonus:
Free:
Conditions:
[/sblock]

[sblock=Milady’s Mini Stats]
Inspiration: 0
AC: 15
HP: 20/20 HD: 2/2d10+2
Init: +3
PP: 10
PI: 12
Bolts: 38 Used: 0
Second Wind (1/R 1d10+2)
[/sblock]

[sblock=Loot]
[/sblock]

 

[mips42]

Ale and food purchased, the innkeeper offers you the entire upper floor for the miserly sum of five silver if you agree to tell others about his place.
The upper floor consists of a common room with a fireplace and four smaller rooms. the common room has a pair of fairly comfortable looking chairs and is decently well lit with simple lanterns. Each of the individual rooms has a simple but well kept straw pallet and a small wardrobe.
It takes only a few minutes to settle down and for rest to find you.
Morning comes with the smell of fresh bread and other delicious smelling food items. Looking out the upper story windows you have a good view of most of the rest of the small village, including the large warehouse that was mentioned the night before.

The day is yours, what would you like to do?