Company of the Random Encounter ('complete' 14 Nov 2004)


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Sniktch said:
So I take it Mantreus is a sorcerer now?

Yup. Stormstrider also multi-classed: he took a level in Druid. Only the Padre stayed in his initial class.

However, none of these people appear in the folliowing adventure :)
 

"Unearthing the Past" by Jesse Decker (WotC Cliffhanger) - Part 1

The tap room of the Birchwhistle Tavern is filled to bursting. Festival time has come, and the population of Amberdale has swollen to three times normal. Adventurers, traders and assorted other ne'er-do-wells rub shoulders in the tavern, on the streets and - if they get too unruly - in the equally crowded jail cells of Captain Jarrek.

With three of their members already occupied with their own projects, the Company has lost more of their number in the last twenty-four hours: Gabrielle has accepted a temporary assignment with the town guards, while Elspeth has disappeared in search of the local ranger, intent on giving him a stern dressing down for his poor efforts in looking after the area. The elven ranger has forcibly dragged poor Rose along on this quest, apparently taking Cpatain Jarrek's injunction to "keep the halfling out of trouble" very seriously.

This leaves just Ming Li and Ulfgar - newly acquainted as they are - to share a table in one corner of the crowded room. Between the gruff dwarf and the contemplative monk, there is little being said, and the corner is almost startlingly quiet compared to the hubbub from the rest of the room.

As the two enjoy their more or less companionable silence, a man enters the tavern. He is slightly overweight, and bears the harried expression of someone with a great many things on his mind. Glancing around the room, he hurries over to a particularly voluble group of adventurers near the door. He speaks for some time, gesturing in an agitated fashion as he does so.

Suddenly one of the adventurers - a burly, hawk-faced man - bangs his mailed fist on the table,

"I am Kyrnyn, Champion of Heironeous!" he bellows, "Not some grocer, to be bothered with such errands!"

The other man steps back, raising his hands in a placating manner, then hurries away from the table, looking around urgently.

At length, his gaze falls on the silent duo, and - taking in their clothing and weapons - he approaches, half nervous, half eager. Up close, they can see that he wears an apron, and has a smudge of flour on one cheek - the kind of smudge that always make you worry that there might be something on your own face.

"Excuse me," he begins, "my name is Gendrew. I'm the cook responsible for the Harvest Feast."

Ming Li nods,

"We have met." She observes, "Your wife is a sorcerer."

"A wizard, yes." Gendrew agrees, "I have a bit of a problem that I was hoping you could help with. You see, we have a missing shipment of food. I sent two of the local boys to meet the wagon this morning, but no one has returned. I'm busy here with preparations, and I need someone to go check on that wagon. The village needs the food - the Harvest Feast will be a disaster without it."

"We might be able to look into it." Ulfgar allows, "What can -"

"I'd be pleased to assist in your endeavours."

The speaker is an extravagantly dressed halfling, whose dapper appearance is rather spoiled by the pattern of fresh breadcrumbs on his shirt.

"Macwood Fleetfoot, at your service." He doffs a non-existent hat, "Bard and explorer, extraordinaire. If food is in danger, I'm your man."

Given the state of his clothing, it seems more likely that he would be the culprit than anything else, but Gendrew seems not to care,

"Oh thank you so much." He nods worriedly, "I'm very concerned I must say. The roads can be dangerous this time of year. I didn't think of it, when I sent those boys out, because I used the same road myself a few days ago, but now I am very concerned for them."

"Excuse me." A slightly built human lad approaches the group, "I couldn't help but overhear. My name's Briar. The lads you sent to meet the wagon were friends of mine. If they could be in danger, I should go and look for them."

"Your accent is not local." Ming Li observes.

Briar snorts,

"Neither is yours, lady." He smiles disarmingly, "I'm from Tarkamul. Came into town a day or two ago and got friendly with Jesper and Garal." He turns to Gendrew, "That was who you sent, right? Tall, red haired kid and a smaller, darker guy with a broken nose?"

"I didn't get their names, but that sounds like them." The cook acknowledges, then turns back to Ulfgar and Ming Li, "Can you help these two gentlemen look for the wagon? I'm very concerned about it, and the boys that I sent. I'll pay you each 20 gold if you find them."

"Sounds fair." Ulfgar glances suspiciously at his new companions, "I just hope these two can pull their weights."

"Can either of you heal?" Ming Li has a focussed and specific mind.

At the answering negatives, she turns to Gendrew,

"We lack a healer, and will thus require supplies from the Sanctuary. Can you pay us in advance?" the question is phrased baldly, the monk seemingly oblivious to the idea that anyone might doubt her sincerity.

"Um ..." Gendrew looks uncomfortable, "I guess I can give you half?"

"That is acceptable." The monk allows, before turning to her companions, "Are you ready to leave now?"

Briar nods as Ulfgar merely slaps a hand on his axe by way of answer.

"Just give me a moment." Macwood dashes for the bar, "I need to grab a snack for the journey."

While the halfling ensures his appetite is well-catered for, the others get details of the wagon's planned route from Gendrew.

"The shipment was mostly oysters and fish from the coast." The cook explains, "It was coming from a little harbour village named Roskan's Wharf. Take the road heading south-east out of town. Roskan's Wharf is only about ten miles away, so it must be somewhere between there and here."

With their destination established and Macwood happily munching on his snack, the four adventurers leave the tavern and head over to the Sanctuary.

None of them notice the small figure which flits from shadow to shadow in their wake.
 

I love how Capellan makes out that I tried to shoo my familiar away. All of that bit was complete poetic licence, which makes for a good read.. and makes me look like a wally :)

I'm looking forward to hurling some magical energy around...
 

Mantreus said:
I love how Capellan makes out that I tried to shoo my familiar away. All of that bit was complete poetic licence, which makes for a good read.. and makes me look like a wally :)

Well, it made for a much better story than what really happened:

Capellan: Hey, you have over 100 gold. Want to call your familiar?

Mantreus: Yeah, OK.

Making you look like a wally was just a lucky bonus :)

[I should mention that, as much as I like to make fun of my PCs' occasional foibles, they provide me with a very enjoyable and rewarding game: and they often play very well indeed. I look forward to each session just as much as they do.]
 
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See, that's why you should always read the storyhour when written by the DM.

You never know what me might be saying about you while you're backs turned :)

Not that I've not been known to take a bit of poetic liscence with boring bits of the game...
 

"Unearthing the Past" by Jesse Decker (WotC Cliffhanger) - Part 2

An acolyte greets the group as they arrived at the Sanctuary,

"Pelor's blessings upon you. How may we help?"

"We need healing potions." Ulfgar grunts.

"I'm afraid our stocks are a little low at the moment ... is someone hurt? You do not appear injured ..."

"Not yet, but we plan to be." Macwood offers with a smirk, thoroughly confusing the young cleric, much to the group's amusement. Even Ming Li's lip quiver into a half-smile.

"We gotta go look for a wagon. It's full o' food for the festival, and it's late." Ulfgar brandishes his waraxe, "The guy that hired us thinks somethin' probably happened to it. Bandits, maybe."

"Well, if it is for the festival, I will see what we can do." The acolyte hurries off to consult with his superior, returning after a few minutes with two stoppered vials. "We can let you have these potions ... for the usual donation, of course."

"How much?"

"Fifty gold each."

Grumbling about the price, the group clubs together and - thanks to Ulfgar's comparatively fat belt pouch and the advance from Gendrew - come up with the required funds. Then, with the potions safely stowed by Ming Li and Briar, they shoulder their packs and set off along the road to the south east.

The travel proves cold and muddy - the autumn winds carry more than a hint of winter - but the four new companions make good time by staying on the grassy verge of the road, away from the churned up mud that marks the passage of previous travellers.

"So what brought you to Amberdale?" Macwood inquires of Briar as the group marches along. The young man grimaces, then gives a slightly bashful grin,

"There was some ... confusion ... over the ownership of a few items, back in Tarkamul. I decided it might be best to get some of the fresh, country air for a while." The young man looks around, "I actually like it more than I thought I would. You?"

"I'm a cartographer and explorer." Macwood explains, "And I write a mean limerick. I came out this way with another group of adventurers - you saw them at the inn."

"Won't they wonder where you are?"

"Probably." The halfling flashes a grin, "If that pompous ass Kyrnyn even notices I'm gone, that is."

"I can see why you decided to leave them." Ming Li acknowledges. "The behaviour was impolite."

"Aye. Me and Kewpie Doll -" Macwood points at the longsword strapped to his back, "- we prefer to travel with folks who have a sense of fun." The strangely-named weapon bobs up and down with each step the halfling takes, and seems improbably large in contrast to its diminutive owner.

The four travellers are so engrossed in their conversation that it is not until they have crested a small rise in the road that they realise the wagon they are searching for is just a short distance ahead: and that it has met with a foul fate.

Half a dozen bodies lie crumpled in the mud around the wagon, which is pulled over to the side of the road. Two bestial-looking humanoids stand at the near end of the wagon, watching a third figure try to calm the horse from the wagon. This third figure is too far away to determine what kind of creature it is, particularly as it is heavily bundled against the cold weather, but Macwood instantly recognises the greyish skin and tusk-like teeth of the closer figures.

"Orcs!" he hisses, waving for everyone to retreat quickly back over the hill. This is done with some haste, the party scrambling to get out of sight while the creatures are still pre-occupied with watching the impromptu entertainment of the inept horse-handler.

Having successfully got under cover without being noticed, the four adventurers take a few moments to check out the lay of the land and plan their next steps. They have been lucky enough to escape without consequences from their own lack of attentiveness, but they do not plan to allow the same luxury to the two orcs.

"There are plenty of trees along the sides of the road." Briar indicates with a vague gesture over the hillock, "I could sneak down and get a shot at one of the orcs."

"I'll go with you." Ming Li hefts her own crossbow. "One each."

Macwood nods his agreement,

"When you get down there, I'll distract them for you."
 

Oho! This looks vaguely familiar ;)

Can't wait to see how the CotRE makes it through. Any chance we'll see Macwood's background over in your Rogue's Gallery? Halfling bards rock!
 

Re: Amberdale 0 : "An Introduction to Amberdale" by PDabble Games - Part 20

Capellan said:
The soot-black cat appears in his room - seemingly out of nowhere, as the door and window are both closed.

I thought for sure this was the shade of Scratches come to take her revenge.

But, hey, you guys did the old lady a favor-- you saved her 50 gp! That's like buying her two new cats and giving her 49.98 gp to boot

Did anyone bring the cat's body back to the old lady for burial?

"We're sorry, ma'am. We were just too late to save poor old Scratches. But rest assured, the dragon that did this is dead now."
 

Orcs -- and PIES!!

Run!

Seriously, I still like this story very much. And I think it's an excellent idea:

Undead Scratches (Undead)
Tiny Undead Animal
HP: 15... etc., etc.
 

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