Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)
- Thread starter diaglo
- Start date
and Thane/Hawk too knows a little more about his appetites.reichtfeld
First Post
A difference of four caster levels is pretty huge, and that difference will only increase unless Richter doesn't take any more fighter levels.
diaglo
Adventurer
1 Hammer Current Clack
Wulf closed the inn early. The Company of the 11th Hour was no more. Veridian, the black leathered elf, had been with them. Pepto's boon companions were all gone. The tale of the Dragon would have to wait.
Fiddle slept soundly. Nothing would wake this halfling. In the morning, he found the others at a service. All of Peldan's Helm grieved for their Heroes. Afterwards Richter, Hawk, and Veridian spoke with an older elf. Fiddle helped himself to Richter's pouch. He would count it later. The elderly elf, Eliar, wanted someone to clear a temple of an allip. Some form of undead. Richter practically drooled. Fiddle agreed to help. He turned to leave.
"Ah, Fiddle," Richter called. "My things."
Fiddle walked back. Hawk hadn't seen the exchange but had helped Richter to discover the culprit. Vlad and Aaron also wished to join the hunt. But first the winter and the need for magic. Supposedly only magic would hurt the allip.
"I found this," Fiddle handed a pouch to Richter. "It must be yours."
There was a Dragon to slay somewhere in all of this adventuring. Fiddle wandered about Peldan's Helm. Most people ignored him. Being small had some advantages. The big folk talked about all sorts of things:
· Reece the cobbler had taken ill. Ministrations by Father
Abercrombie had been insufficient to cure him. (Medic….powerful medic. Though, he is an old man. Maybe it is his god's will. Tyr, right? Or so I've gathered from my encounter with the Father.)
· Dumic the Red is preparing to represent Mistledale at the Dales Council at Midwinter. He is awaiting arrival of an escort from the Riders. (Who is this Dumic fellow? Maybe a trip to the Dales Council won't be
too far out of the way, if we are going to the elven temple?)
· Eliar the Mage is seeking heroes to purge undead from a lost elven shrine due to the fall of his protégé. (Already spoke to Eliar. Agreed to look into the matter. But we need some magic weaponry.)
· The Heroes of Peldan's Helm have fallen in battle with drow raiders. A memorial ceremony has been held and a statue will be commemorated in their memory. (Went to the service. Very touching. But…they were adventurers, what did they expect?)
· Bomblinn Deepdelver and a band of dour dwarves from Glen are wintering at Peldan's Helm, enroute to an ancient dwarven stronghold discovered and liberated by dwarven hero Dorek Stonebeard. (The dwarves can handle it. Sounds like they are better prepared than the Heroes of Peldan's Helm.)
· The Company of the Burning Brand has returned from a successful foray to the Barrow Fields, where they fought through undead to retrieve an dancient flaming sword. (I need to have a talk with High Muul. Maybe I can convince him to let us have the sword.)
· Stop by the tavern and meet Himool, captain of the Burning Brand and wielder of the sword of flame. (Way ahead of you.)
· An elven patrol told a patrol from the guard that they had encountered strange, ancient ruins north of the Helm in the forest. They saw black and green robed humans, gnolls, and hobgoblins searching the ruins, plus what looked like walking corpses. (Shhh. Don't tell Richter.)
· A major snowstorm has dumped 3 feet of snow on the Dales, trapping many travelers at Peldan's Helm. (And a cozy place it is…)
· Jeb the fisher claims he saw a large beast fly over early one morning headed northwest, just before the snowstorm. (DRAGON…Did he say DRAGON?)
· An elven ranger passed through a tenday ago, claiming he had encountered a dragon at night in the Thunder Peaks. (Sweeeeettttt. Pepto was right.)
· A patrol of Riders led by Jerrod Rold has been missing for several months north og Glen and is now presumed dead. (Haven't been to Glen. Maybe we should ask the dwarves more about this.)
· Corporal Sabine led a patrol to the caves northwest of Peldan's Helm three weeks ago and said things were quiet, too quiet. They withdrew without entering the caves. (Caves are dirty places.)
· Grain stocks are good for this winter but meat is scarce; the stream has frozen so there are no fish. (Don't look at me. Go ask the Archer.)
· A madman came through two tendays back babbling about dead dragons inheriting the earth; he said he was headed into the elven wood, the fool. (Not so mad. Not so foolish. But I think I'd like to have a little
divine back up.)
Wulf closed the inn early. The Company of the 11th Hour was no more. Veridian, the black leathered elf, had been with them. Pepto's boon companions were all gone. The tale of the Dragon would have to wait.
Fiddle slept soundly. Nothing would wake this halfling. In the morning, he found the others at a service. All of Peldan's Helm grieved for their Heroes. Afterwards Richter, Hawk, and Veridian spoke with an older elf. Fiddle helped himself to Richter's pouch. He would count it later. The elderly elf, Eliar, wanted someone to clear a temple of an allip. Some form of undead. Richter practically drooled. Fiddle agreed to help. He turned to leave.
"Ah, Fiddle," Richter called. "My things."
Fiddle walked back. Hawk hadn't seen the exchange but had helped Richter to discover the culprit. Vlad and Aaron also wished to join the hunt. But first the winter and the need for magic. Supposedly only magic would hurt the allip.
"I found this," Fiddle handed a pouch to Richter. "It must be yours."
There was a Dragon to slay somewhere in all of this adventuring. Fiddle wandered about Peldan's Helm. Most people ignored him. Being small had some advantages. The big folk talked about all sorts of things:
· Reece the cobbler had taken ill. Ministrations by Father
Abercrombie had been insufficient to cure him. (Medic….powerful medic. Though, he is an old man. Maybe it is his god's will. Tyr, right? Or so I've gathered from my encounter with the Father.)
· Dumic the Red is preparing to represent Mistledale at the Dales Council at Midwinter. He is awaiting arrival of an escort from the Riders. (Who is this Dumic fellow? Maybe a trip to the Dales Council won't be
too far out of the way, if we are going to the elven temple?)
· Eliar the Mage is seeking heroes to purge undead from a lost elven shrine due to the fall of his protégé. (Already spoke to Eliar. Agreed to look into the matter. But we need some magic weaponry.)
· The Heroes of Peldan's Helm have fallen in battle with drow raiders. A memorial ceremony has been held and a statue will be commemorated in their memory. (Went to the service. Very touching. But…they were adventurers, what did they expect?)
· Bomblinn Deepdelver and a band of dour dwarves from Glen are wintering at Peldan's Helm, enroute to an ancient dwarven stronghold discovered and liberated by dwarven hero Dorek Stonebeard. (The dwarves can handle it. Sounds like they are better prepared than the Heroes of Peldan's Helm.)
· The Company of the Burning Brand has returned from a successful foray to the Barrow Fields, where they fought through undead to retrieve an dancient flaming sword. (I need to have a talk with High Muul. Maybe I can convince him to let us have the sword.)
· Stop by the tavern and meet Himool, captain of the Burning Brand and wielder of the sword of flame. (Way ahead of you.)
· An elven patrol told a patrol from the guard that they had encountered strange, ancient ruins north of the Helm in the forest. They saw black and green robed humans, gnolls, and hobgoblins searching the ruins, plus what looked like walking corpses. (Shhh. Don't tell Richter.)
· A major snowstorm has dumped 3 feet of snow on the Dales, trapping many travelers at Peldan's Helm. (And a cozy place it is…)
· Jeb the fisher claims he saw a large beast fly over early one morning headed northwest, just before the snowstorm. (DRAGON…Did he say DRAGON?)
· An elven ranger passed through a tenday ago, claiming he had encountered a dragon at night in the Thunder Peaks. (Sweeeeettttt. Pepto was right.)
· A patrol of Riders led by Jerrod Rold has been missing for several months north og Glen and is now presumed dead. (Haven't been to Glen. Maybe we should ask the dwarves more about this.)
· Corporal Sabine led a patrol to the caves northwest of Peldan's Helm three weeks ago and said things were quiet, too quiet. They withdrew without entering the caves. (Caves are dirty places.)
· Grain stocks are good for this winter but meat is scarce; the stream has frozen so there are no fish. (Don't look at me. Go ask the Archer.)
· A madman came through two tendays back babbling about dead dragons inheriting the earth; he said he was headed into the elven wood, the fool. (Not so mad. Not so foolish. But I think I'd like to have a little
divine back up.)
diaglo
Adventurer
A fireside Chat
"BBBbbbbrrrrr," Fiddle trudged back inside the inn. "It is not fit for hin nor beast." No one seemed to pay him any mind. Which of course was a little irritating to Fiddle. So he moseyed over to Richter’s table.
"Well, since we're trapped here, I plan on seeing what’s wrong with this cobbler. If a priest can’t heal him, I wonder what’s going on. I’ve done some talking to some people and I found out that Kelemvor alone knows what ancient magic lies below the barrow downs. That’s where Himool went. If possible, I’d like to go there. I need to start
my path towards becoming his hand, a paladin. I’m sure the test lies there."
Richter looked to those around, "Well, what say you?"
Fiddle replied, "I also heard some interesting news. It appears the Downs are a busy place. A gnome from Tilverton passed through a tenday back heading for Ashabenford. He reported black-garbed riders searching the downs to the west, and mentioned the church of Lathander in Tilverton is looking for adventurers to recover a lost magical sword. I'm wondering if the sword HiMool carries is that sword. Just how many magic swords are there in these parts?"
After hearing the halfing’s comments Veridian thinks to himself "Three so far, not including a certain magic stick" (the 2 we found plus Himool's).
"I agree with Richter, they said they cleared barely a portion of the tombs, and we could at least gain a map of what they've already explored. Though as a follower of Kelemvor I'm sure you'd know better than I, Richter. Also I heard on the wind from some of my kin that both living and dead have been seen walking around in ruins just north of here, as well as some gnolls
and hobgoblins. And I apologize for my abrupt response to you yesterday, Richter, I react badly when approached suddenly in an accusing tome of voice, my response was unwarranted and I am sorry.”
Hawk looked up from his mulled wine and bread and though not exposing his face from the nose up replied, "I have no quarrel with the dead and my bow, however mighty it is, is of little use against the dead or undead. However, I hear that there is a Medicant Priest of Lathander staying with Father Ambercrombie at the moment. Perhaps he knows more of the quest for the magic sword or the illness here at the Helm?"
Fiddle face broke into a huge smile, "Now that is good news. I wouldn't go anywhere near the dead without a Priest. Let's hope he can be persuaded."
"BBBbbbbrrrrr," Fiddle trudged back inside the inn. "It is not fit for hin nor beast." No one seemed to pay him any mind. Which of course was a little irritating to Fiddle. So he moseyed over to Richter’s table.
"Well, since we're trapped here, I plan on seeing what’s wrong with this cobbler. If a priest can’t heal him, I wonder what’s going on. I’ve done some talking to some people and I found out that Kelemvor alone knows what ancient magic lies below the barrow downs. That’s where Himool went. If possible, I’d like to go there. I need to start
my path towards becoming his hand, a paladin. I’m sure the test lies there."
Richter looked to those around, "Well, what say you?"
Fiddle replied, "I also heard some interesting news. It appears the Downs are a busy place. A gnome from Tilverton passed through a tenday back heading for Ashabenford. He reported black-garbed riders searching the downs to the west, and mentioned the church of Lathander in Tilverton is looking for adventurers to recover a lost magical sword. I'm wondering if the sword HiMool carries is that sword. Just how many magic swords are there in these parts?"
After hearing the halfing’s comments Veridian thinks to himself "Three so far, not including a certain magic stick" (the 2 we found plus Himool's).
"I agree with Richter, they said they cleared barely a portion of the tombs, and we could at least gain a map of what they've already explored. Though as a follower of Kelemvor I'm sure you'd know better than I, Richter. Also I heard on the wind from some of my kin that both living and dead have been seen walking around in ruins just north of here, as well as some gnolls
and hobgoblins. And I apologize for my abrupt response to you yesterday, Richter, I react badly when approached suddenly in an accusing tome of voice, my response was unwarranted and I am sorry.”
Hawk looked up from his mulled wine and bread and though not exposing his face from the nose up replied, "I have no quarrel with the dead and my bow, however mighty it is, is of little use against the dead or undead. However, I hear that there is a Medicant Priest of Lathander staying with Father Ambercrombie at the moment. Perhaps he knows more of the quest for the magic sword or the illness here at the Helm?"
Fiddle face broke into a huge smile, "Now that is good news. I wouldn't go anywhere near the dead without a Priest. Let's hope he can be persuaded."
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diaglo
Adventurer
The Monk chimes in...
"As regards to the local gossip, I'll do what I can to help out this
ill fellow, but I'm also up for visiting either set of ancient ruins (the barrows or the ruins to the north). I don't approve of Fiddle 'liberating' that sword from Himool, but then again, I think Himool is full of himself and a twit to boot, not to mention a grave robber, so if the sword were to find its way into the party I doubt I'd say anything. The rumors of a dragon (Dragon you say? ;-)) only interest me in the thoughts of protecting the common folk, and of the rumored ancient treasures (and hopefully knowledge!) that dragons possess," Erin the monk of the Old Order chimed in.
Fiddle's smile faded, replaced by a tinge of red around his cheeks. He looked slightly embarrassed. But it soon faded, too.
Richter nodded and took a sip of wine. "Well lets see whats wrong with this ill man first and then head to the Barrows or Ruins. We need to decide which. The ruins lie to the north so i dont think thats too far but the Barrows lie to the south. Granted, its cold but we cant let the filthy unliving walk Toril."
Vlad added, "Himool has been decribing one of the Barrows they didn't enter as a large flat-topped mound, with large stones placed on top so as to resemble a grinning skull"
Fiddle hopped from one foot to the other,"The Barrowfields lie 30 miles south and east of Peldan's Helm. I'm guessing 2 days travel, but with the heavy snow, I don't know how much ground we can cover per day. I have some knowledge of surviving the wilds, but I'm not sure if I can be of much use to a large group. You all do have winter gear, right? This ruin in the North sounds closer. But it also sounds very deadly. Both living and unliving creatures plus possible divine agents. More and more, I hope Hawk is right about the Lathanderite."
Veridian said, "As much 'fun' as it would be 'merrily tramp around' in 3 feet of snow for a week, those barrows have been there for a while, I'd just as soon let them sit a few months until spring thaw, and focus out efforts right now on stuff that involves as little chance of freezing to death as possible. If you really want to go fight undead the ruins are closer as such probably
present more of a danger to inhabited areas. Though truth be told *lowers voice* if we have to go out at all I wouldn't mind warming my hands by that flaming sword at night. There has to be some way we can get it out of Himools hands...(looks over at Richter)...legally of course. Buy it or trade it, maybe with a well placed wager or a contest?"
As an aside, Veridian thought, "He's so full of himself I think he'd walk right into the old heads I win, tails you lose trick. Maybe the old shell game or some more original variation."
"As regards to the local gossip, I'll do what I can to help out this
ill fellow, but I'm also up for visiting either set of ancient ruins (the barrows or the ruins to the north). I don't approve of Fiddle 'liberating' that sword from Himool, but then again, I think Himool is full of himself and a twit to boot, not to mention a grave robber, so if the sword were to find its way into the party I doubt I'd say anything. The rumors of a dragon (Dragon you say? ;-)) only interest me in the thoughts of protecting the common folk, and of the rumored ancient treasures (and hopefully knowledge!) that dragons possess," Erin the monk of the Old Order chimed in.
Fiddle's smile faded, replaced by a tinge of red around his cheeks. He looked slightly embarrassed. But it soon faded, too.
Richter nodded and took a sip of wine. "Well lets see whats wrong with this ill man first and then head to the Barrows or Ruins. We need to decide which. The ruins lie to the north so i dont think thats too far but the Barrows lie to the south. Granted, its cold but we cant let the filthy unliving walk Toril."
Vlad added, "Himool has been decribing one of the Barrows they didn't enter as a large flat-topped mound, with large stones placed on top so as to resemble a grinning skull"
Fiddle hopped from one foot to the other,"The Barrowfields lie 30 miles south and east of Peldan's Helm. I'm guessing 2 days travel, but with the heavy snow, I don't know how much ground we can cover per day. I have some knowledge of surviving the wilds, but I'm not sure if I can be of much use to a large group. You all do have winter gear, right? This ruin in the North sounds closer. But it also sounds very deadly. Both living and unliving creatures plus possible divine agents. More and more, I hope Hawk is right about the Lathanderite."
Veridian said, "As much 'fun' as it would be 'merrily tramp around' in 3 feet of snow for a week, those barrows have been there for a while, I'd just as soon let them sit a few months until spring thaw, and focus out efforts right now on stuff that involves as little chance of freezing to death as possible. If you really want to go fight undead the ruins are closer as such probably
present more of a danger to inhabited areas. Though truth be told *lowers voice* if we have to go out at all I wouldn't mind warming my hands by that flaming sword at night. There has to be some way we can get it out of Himools hands...(looks over at Richter)...legally of course. Buy it or trade it, maybe with a well placed wager or a contest?"
As an aside, Veridian thought, "He's so full of himself I think he'd walk right into the old heads I win, tails you lose trick. Maybe the old shell game or some more original variation."
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diaglo
Adventurer
Decisions, decisions
Richter looked at the elf. "I'd rather not wait until Spring. By that time, there could be more of the undead spawn. More spawn may mean more challenge, but it also means it will be more deadly. The ruins or the Barrows, I don't care which. Hawk, why don't you go talk to that Lathanderite chap and see if he will accompany us."
Richter took a sip of wine and continued. "As for Himool, if you can retrieve the sword legally, I have no problem with what you are planning. I am a noble and I keep my word and obey the law. Sometimes, however, that gets me into trouble."
Hawk sipped some more wine and tore idly into the bread as he thought about it- he cocked his cowled head to one side and said slowly, "My impression of the Son of the
Dawn is that he is one who'd be interested in this sort of thing. He seems to me like a Paladin in many ways but perhaps with less rods up his arse. If you can pry him away from the ill man at the temple then you may find him to be of use in dark places. After
all, his God is the God of the Dawn and rumor places that this Priest has a special hate for the undead..."
Richter looked at Hawk. "I am seeking Paladinhood and the priests of Kelemvor hate the undead slightly more than the Lathanderites my friend."
Hawk smirked and replied sardonically, "Perception, my friend. It's all from your own perspective. But perhaps you should test your hatred for the undead alongside the Lathanderite and see who is best able to accomplish the task. Thereby the 'proof', as they say, would be 'in the doing'. That is of course, that you can pry him out of that nice warm temple with a helpless victim to care for."
"I like pudding," Fiddle's mouth began to water. "But I prefer pie. A nice, hot pie. My Aunt always said, never turn down a good pie or pudding. Proof in it or not."
Richter looked at the elf. "I'd rather not wait until Spring. By that time, there could be more of the undead spawn. More spawn may mean more challenge, but it also means it will be more deadly. The ruins or the Barrows, I don't care which. Hawk, why don't you go talk to that Lathanderite chap and see if he will accompany us."
Richter took a sip of wine and continued. "As for Himool, if you can retrieve the sword legally, I have no problem with what you are planning. I am a noble and I keep my word and obey the law. Sometimes, however, that gets me into trouble."
Hawk sipped some more wine and tore idly into the bread as he thought about it- he cocked his cowled head to one side and said slowly, "My impression of the Son of the
Dawn is that he is one who'd be interested in this sort of thing. He seems to me like a Paladin in many ways but perhaps with less rods up his arse. If you can pry him away from the ill man at the temple then you may find him to be of use in dark places. After
all, his God is the God of the Dawn and rumor places that this Priest has a special hate for the undead..."
Richter looked at Hawk. "I am seeking Paladinhood and the priests of Kelemvor hate the undead slightly more than the Lathanderites my friend."
Hawk smirked and replied sardonically, "Perception, my friend. It's all from your own perspective. But perhaps you should test your hatred for the undead alongside the Lathanderite and see who is best able to accomplish the task. Thereby the 'proof', as they say, would be 'in the doing'. That is of course, that you can pry him out of that nice warm temple with a helpless victim to care for."
"I like pudding," Fiddle's mouth began to water. "But I prefer pie. A nice, hot pie. My Aunt always said, never turn down a good pie or pudding. Proof in it or not."
