[5e_One Shot] Baptism by Fire

[Neurotic]

Amil had found two men working on a house as the group made their way to The Bright Rest. One of the men was limping and the angel's heart hurt to see him hobbling about as he worked. Healing the man was second nature to the assimar, but what he was not ready for was the reaction he got. Both men dropped their tools and started fawning over the warlock. Grabbing at the hem of his clothes and thanking him over and over, both coming to tears. Amil fought off the men and rejoined the group as they entered the inn.

GM: Sorry your check was to low to remember anything about Firetrees, although as the group passed through the small town, they heard no crackling of fire, smelled no smoke, and saw no ash or floating debris.

OOC: Exactly what I wanted to avoid how can I hide that? Stealth? Deception? You know, just brush someone in the crowd? By readying action before that ofcourse

Amil found himself at the center of attention. It was a minor thing and he was uncomfortable with the thanks for doing something that came naturally to him.
"It is fine, fine, good men, you're doing your part to rebuild the country, this is my contribution. Please, go with Oghma in peace and most of all, quiet. Thank you."
As he extracted himself from the two, he looked around to see how much attention that drew before following others inside.

 

[Helmsman01]

GM: Make a Persuasion check to see if they keep quiet.

 

[Neurotic]

GM: Make a Persuasion check to see if they keep quiet.

neurotic: D20 + 3#amilpersuasion → 12(9 + 3)#Amil persuasion

 

[Helmsman01]

Before entering the taproom the two men thank the assimar one last time shaking his hand hurriedly before moving off. Luckily only one or two passersby notice the exchange but seem content to go about their business.

 

[VLAD the Destroyer]

"Thank you."

Aridrish nods his head in thanks and accepts the cup from the squire. He takes a sip to wash road dirt from his mouth. The barbarian takes in the fort and it's residents.

"How long will we be gathering the supplies? I am guessing the plan is to return to Fort Silan in the morning."

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

Spoiler: Fern (Mini-Sheet)

HP: 18/18 AC: 14 (Leather)	Bardic Inspiration: 3/3 (1d6)	Skills	Spell Slots: 1st: [ ] [ ] [ ]
Pass Per: 13 Pass Inv: 12 Pass Ins: 11	SPELL SVE DC: 13	Arcana: 4 Deception;7 Disguise :5	Cantrips Minor Illusion; Vicious Mockery
STATS: STR:8- DEX:16+3 CON:12+1 INT:14+2 WIS:12+1 CHA:16+3	SAVES: STR:-1 DEX:+5 CON:+1 INT:+2 WIS:+1 CHA:+5	Perform: 5 Persuasion:5 Perception:3 Sl of Hnd: 5 Stealth: 5 Thief Tool:5	Known Spells 1st Animal Friendship Comprehend Languages, Detect Magic, Heroism, Sleep,

---

Despite being young, a hard childhood had made Fern calculating. Since he had disembarked the boat, he'd become more serious and had remained fairly quiet. He was contemplating how he should play things. When he was younger there was usually two ways to go: quiet and invisible - kids tended to go unnoticed which had a definite advantage; or cute and harmless, which made it easier to play people. He wasn't sure how the latter tactic would work because he was so much older now. A twelve year old wasn't nearly as endearing to people as an eight year old. Although Fern looked young for his age - no-one really knew how old he was since he'd never kept track after his grandmother died - he wasn't confident in using his charm in that way.

He decided to play it safe and just be quiet. He tucked his spellbook into his backpack as he entered the Inn and lowered the sword on his belt so it hung awkwardly, making him look more harmless than he was.(1) It was true that he was no great swordsman - and, in fact, he had no experience with it in a real fight - but he wasn't helpless. For several years Delenir's Captain of the guard had trained him with a variety of weapons.

He watched Captain Scrinner interact with the pretty elf. Maybe it was that Captain Scrinner hadn't mentioned their true mission that made Fern cautious but, there was something in how they interacted, though happy, that gave Fern pause.(2) He just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

---

Spoiler: OOC

1. rolling a deception to have Fern seem more harmless than he is. I imagine my companions will notice the sudden change in mannerisms but it isn't for them.
Deception: 1D20+7 = [17]+7 = 24

2. I'm rolling this only if it makes sense to his background to have heard it being used before. If not, ignore this roll:
Insight about thieves Cant: 1D20+1 = [19]+1 = 20
To clarify: I don't want to understand what they are saying - only to suspect that they aren't saying what they appear to be saying.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Mardoc sat down at a table and ordered food and drink, though he only poked at them as if he were unused to tavern fare. He hoped to find a way to make things up to Darrock - and to turn the disparate group into a cohesive unit - but he wasn't confident in his ability to do anything of the sort.

"Can I buy ye a drink?" he asked the rabbit-folk as soon as he could catch his eye. "Where d'ya ken we shoold begin oor investigation?"

 

[Kobold Stew]

Darrock had lingered on the boat, reluctant to leave for what would be the beginning of the long walk. He'd been marched far enough over the years he would endure it, but he knew he didn't like it. As he gazed at the water, he began composing the message he would send their patron, since it was twilight: <<We've arrived at the Fire Trees. We expect to continue to Fort Silan in the morning. We will find your son.>>

That sent, he shoulders his bag and returns the carved lion to his pocket, and makes his way to the inn. His legs are for a moment unsteady, and he rolls an ankle, but he is soon making his way up to the taphouse.

He appreciates Mardoc's invitation, and sits with him, ordering a soup, something warm, when asked what he wants to drink.

"I'm not much of a planner," Darrock says. His voice is subdued, and he feels shame at the altercation on the boat, even though he still feels he was right. "I'll bet you've got an idea, though. I'd like to hear it."

 

[TaranTheWanderer]

Spoiler: Fern (Mini-Sheet)

HP: 18/18 AC: 14 (Leather)	Bardic Inspiration: 3/3 (1d6)	Skills	Spell Slots: 1st: [ ] [ ] [ ]
Pass Per: 13 Pass Inv: 12 Pass Ins: 11	SPELL SVE DC: 13	Arcana: 4 Deception;7 Disguise :5	Cantrips Minor Illusion; Vicious Mockery
STATS: STR:8- DEX:16+3 CON:12+1 INT:14+2 WIS:12+1 CHA:16+3	SAVES: STR:-1 DEX:+5 CON:+1 INT:+2 WIS:+1 CHA:+5	Perform: 5 Persuasion:5 Perception:3 Sl of Hnd: 5 Stealth: 5 Thief Tool:5	Known Spells 1st Animal Friendship Comprehend Languages, Detect Magic, Heroism, Sleep,

---

Following Captain Scrinner's orders to sit, Fern saddles up on a chair at the same table as Mardoc and Darrock. Overhearing their conversation, he pipes in,

"Yeah, I'd be interested in hearing a plan too. I figured we'd just start asking around."

As the server brings food and drinks, Fern orders a drink for himself and then leans in to the two, speaking quieter,

"Does your plan involve us being secretive about what we're looking for?"

---

 

[Helmsman01]

Fort Wheelan

Putting down his cup Captain Torngrim grunts, "No, day after," he says honestly. "Gives the horses and men plenty of rest. The supplies will reach here about midday and we'll transfer the grain and other goods to our wagons and then head back, making Fort Silan a couple hours after dark."

A large (almost portly) armored knight from the fort makes his way to the group, his smile is as grand as his size. "Torngrim you lousy bugbear!" he greets the captain in a huge embrace. "Glad you joined the supply run. I need a bit more stimulating conversation than what I get from these... hobgoblins." He laughs at his own jest and then he gets a queer look on his face as he finally realizes the dragonborn is present.

"What's this then? A prisoner?" he asks slightly shook.

"No, no. Belroin." Captain Torngrim says standing between the barbarian and two fort guards. "He is a friend to the people of Fort Silan. A guide who lives and travels Messemprar."

His voice goes softer, "Has the Seventh Patrol checked in?" He asks a bit of hope in his voice.

Belroin's face goes dark as he shakes his head, the smile fading away.

And then back again big and bright for all to see. "Then Well Met! Peace of the Mountain to you," he says with a formal bow, made awkward by the armor. "I am Captain Belroin Hettimand. By grace of the God-King Gilean, Defender of the West and Commander of The Blashian Regulars."

His eyes widen in anticipation, expecting his titles to be recognized.