Lazybones
Hero
It’s been about six years since I lasted posted a story here. This one is like most of my past entries in the Story Hour forum in that it is a fictional writeup of a playthrough through the adventure in the newly released 5e 2024 Starter Set. There are no players; however, for this one I am going to run the characters through the adventure as written, including dice rolls and random events, and let the narrative follow. I’ve created characters using the rules in the box, filling them out as needed to construct a complete story.
The party includes the following characters:
Chapter 1
The warrior’s breath huffed in his chest as he neared the crest of the ridge. He was used to long days of work, work that left his hands blistered and his joints sore from effort, but this walk, that had been something else entirely. The scabbard of the massive sword slung across his back seemed like it wanted to break free with each step, and his shoulders felt chafed raw by the thick straps of the heavy pack he wore. The weight of the suit of fine steel mail that had felt wonderfully distributed when he’d first put it on now seemed to be trying to drag him to the ground, and he’d lost count of how many times he’d slipped and fallen on the many climbs like this one he’d undertaken since leaving Dunwillow just over two weeks ago. For all that he would have welcomed a bit more weight, if that had meant that he had something more to eat in his pack. His stomach felt like it was trying to gnaw its way out through his gut.
But the many complaints of his body faded as the man reached the summit of his climb. It wasn’t much of an ascent, just one of a dozen crests that the road had navigated in its long journey here, but this one offered a singular view. The scene was augmented by the sun finally peeking out behind the thick gray layers of cloud that had covered the skies over the last few days, covering his destination in brilliant light.
The keep was bigger than he’d expected; no mere fortress, its walls could have almost encompassed a decent-sized town. One bigger than Dunwillow, anyway, though that wasn’t saying much. The thought brought a twinge of regret, one that he quickly squelched as he studied the citadel. There were several towers visible rising above the walls; pennants wove from atop the tallest of them, but he couldn’t make them out no matter how hard he squinted. Well, he’d get a closer look soon enough, he supposed.
He glanced back at the lands he’d spent the morning covering. There wasn’t much to see; hills and more hills, along with forests and the winding blue line of the river whose course he’d been following over the last few days. The road dipped in and out of view as it passed through the hills. Off in the distance he could see a wagon with a four-horse team heading this way. It figured that he’d spot someone just as he was nearing his goal, after days of trying to find a caravan or even just a single traveler headed in the same direction. There hadn’t been any of the bandits or monsters he’d been warned about on the road, but there had been plenty of times when he’d been woken in the middle of the night by some stray sound or the cry of a distant beast. At those times he’d clutched the hilt of his sword and stared out into the surrounding darkness, his imagination manufacturing horrors from the various tales he’d heard from travelers in the common room of the village inn.
But now the promise of shelter and safety awaited him, the security of the walls luring him forward like a lodestone. He didn’t even begrudge the next climb that stretched out ahead, up to the bluff where the keep perched watchfully over these rough lands. The protests of the young man’s body faded into the background as he approached his destination: the Keep on the Borderlands.
The loud metallic rumble of the drawbridge mechanism filled the air, finally punctuated by a heavy thud as the bridge settled into place. It revealed two guards standing in the narrow opening of the citadel’s gatehouse, a man and a woman clad in chain shirts and blue coats showing a sigil of an armored horse on a shield, with two crossed spears behind it. Both were human, a fact that the warrior found somewhat comforting.
The male guard gestured the warrior forward even before the drawbridge finally stopped moving. He looked bored. The woman had a small book, and as the warrior trudged over the drawbridge she said, “Name?”
“Grimdark,” the warrior said.
The woman cocked an eyebrow, just slightly, but she only added, “Surname?”
“Um… Cossa.”
The woman made a note. “Your business at the Keep?”
“I, ah, want to find work for my sword.”
“Mercenary? Adventurer?”
“Yes.”
The woman just looked at him, while the man said, “I suppose they’re about the same at that.”
The woman made a mark in her book. “The keep has plenty of need for hearty adventurers like yourself,” she said. To Grimdark it sounded like she was reciting a speech from memory. “If you want to make a name for yourself in this community and earn the castellan’s respect, you should visit locations within the keep and offer your aid.”
“Residents usually pay for a job well done,” the male guard added.
“Um, okay, thanks,” Grimdark said. He’d heard that sometimes there was a tax to be paid when entering places like this, but the woman guard merely snapped her book shut and the male one gestured for him to pass through the gatehouse. As he did so, he could hear the two guards talking quietly behind him, though whatever they were saying was lost as the gears of the drawbridge winch started up again.
The warrior passed through the deep shadows of the gatehouse. He could see the bars of a heavy portcullis, then a large set of thick wooden doors. As he emerged into the light, he blinked and looked around him. Everywhere he looked were buildings of all shapes and sizes, the smallest of which would have humbled any of the structures back in Dunwillow. Directly ahead of him was a large, three-story structure with elaborate dormered windows sticking up from a roof of blue tiles. It was the fanciest building he had ever seen, but then his eyes traveled past it to an even taller structure, a domed building topped by a cupola that had a gilded roof that blazed bright in the rays of the afternoon sun. There were people everyone, folk of all sorts, elves and dwarves and halflings just walking around with all manner of humans. None of them spared him as much as a look.
A little intimidated by the finery and bustle, the warrior found himself walking down a side street tucked in against the inner wall. He didn’t know what had drawn him that way until he saw a familiar-looking building up ahead, a tall wooden structure with a simple shake roof. The smells and sounds that issued from the place were even more familiar, and awoke that sense of nostalgia, even stronger than earlier. As he stood there looking into the barn, the warrior could not help but wonder if he’d made a terrible mistake coming here.
The party includes the following characters:
- Greghan “Grimdark” Cossa, Human Fighter (farmer background)
- Sister Leana, Halfling Cleric (acolyte background)
- Ravani Whisperleaf, Elf Rogue (criminal background)
- Folgar Ironforge, Dwarf Wizard (hermit background)
* * *
Chapter 1
The warrior’s breath huffed in his chest as he neared the crest of the ridge. He was used to long days of work, work that left his hands blistered and his joints sore from effort, but this walk, that had been something else entirely. The scabbard of the massive sword slung across his back seemed like it wanted to break free with each step, and his shoulders felt chafed raw by the thick straps of the heavy pack he wore. The weight of the suit of fine steel mail that had felt wonderfully distributed when he’d first put it on now seemed to be trying to drag him to the ground, and he’d lost count of how many times he’d slipped and fallen on the many climbs like this one he’d undertaken since leaving Dunwillow just over two weeks ago. For all that he would have welcomed a bit more weight, if that had meant that he had something more to eat in his pack. His stomach felt like it was trying to gnaw its way out through his gut.
But the many complaints of his body faded as the man reached the summit of his climb. It wasn’t much of an ascent, just one of a dozen crests that the road had navigated in its long journey here, but this one offered a singular view. The scene was augmented by the sun finally peeking out behind the thick gray layers of cloud that had covered the skies over the last few days, covering his destination in brilliant light.
The keep was bigger than he’d expected; no mere fortress, its walls could have almost encompassed a decent-sized town. One bigger than Dunwillow, anyway, though that wasn’t saying much. The thought brought a twinge of regret, one that he quickly squelched as he studied the citadel. There were several towers visible rising above the walls; pennants wove from atop the tallest of them, but he couldn’t make them out no matter how hard he squinted. Well, he’d get a closer look soon enough, he supposed.
He glanced back at the lands he’d spent the morning covering. There wasn’t much to see; hills and more hills, along with forests and the winding blue line of the river whose course he’d been following over the last few days. The road dipped in and out of view as it passed through the hills. Off in the distance he could see a wagon with a four-horse team heading this way. It figured that he’d spot someone just as he was nearing his goal, after days of trying to find a caravan or even just a single traveler headed in the same direction. There hadn’t been any of the bandits or monsters he’d been warned about on the road, but there had been plenty of times when he’d been woken in the middle of the night by some stray sound or the cry of a distant beast. At those times he’d clutched the hilt of his sword and stared out into the surrounding darkness, his imagination manufacturing horrors from the various tales he’d heard from travelers in the common room of the village inn.
But now the promise of shelter and safety awaited him, the security of the walls luring him forward like a lodestone. He didn’t even begrudge the next climb that stretched out ahead, up to the bluff where the keep perched watchfully over these rough lands. The protests of the young man’s body faded into the background as he approached his destination: the Keep on the Borderlands.
* * *
The loud metallic rumble of the drawbridge mechanism filled the air, finally punctuated by a heavy thud as the bridge settled into place. It revealed two guards standing in the narrow opening of the citadel’s gatehouse, a man and a woman clad in chain shirts and blue coats showing a sigil of an armored horse on a shield, with two crossed spears behind it. Both were human, a fact that the warrior found somewhat comforting.
The male guard gestured the warrior forward even before the drawbridge finally stopped moving. He looked bored. The woman had a small book, and as the warrior trudged over the drawbridge she said, “Name?”
“Grimdark,” the warrior said.
The woman cocked an eyebrow, just slightly, but she only added, “Surname?”
“Um… Cossa.”
The woman made a note. “Your business at the Keep?”
“I, ah, want to find work for my sword.”
“Mercenary? Adventurer?”
“Yes.”
The woman just looked at him, while the man said, “I suppose they’re about the same at that.”
The woman made a mark in her book. “The keep has plenty of need for hearty adventurers like yourself,” she said. To Grimdark it sounded like she was reciting a speech from memory. “If you want to make a name for yourself in this community and earn the castellan’s respect, you should visit locations within the keep and offer your aid.”
“Residents usually pay for a job well done,” the male guard added.
“Um, okay, thanks,” Grimdark said. He’d heard that sometimes there was a tax to be paid when entering places like this, but the woman guard merely snapped her book shut and the male one gestured for him to pass through the gatehouse. As he did so, he could hear the two guards talking quietly behind him, though whatever they were saying was lost as the gears of the drawbridge winch started up again.
The warrior passed through the deep shadows of the gatehouse. He could see the bars of a heavy portcullis, then a large set of thick wooden doors. As he emerged into the light, he blinked and looked around him. Everywhere he looked were buildings of all shapes and sizes, the smallest of which would have humbled any of the structures back in Dunwillow. Directly ahead of him was a large, three-story structure with elaborate dormered windows sticking up from a roof of blue tiles. It was the fanciest building he had ever seen, but then his eyes traveled past it to an even taller structure, a domed building topped by a cupola that had a gilded roof that blazed bright in the rays of the afternoon sun. There were people everyone, folk of all sorts, elves and dwarves and halflings just walking around with all manner of humans. None of them spared him as much as a look.
A little intimidated by the finery and bustle, the warrior found himself walking down a side street tucked in against the inner wall. He didn’t know what had drawn him that way until he saw a familiar-looking building up ahead, a tall wooden structure with a simple shake roof. The smells and sounds that issued from the place were even more familiar, and awoke that sense of nostalgia, even stronger than earlier. As he stood there looking into the barn, the warrior could not help but wonder if he’d made a terrible mistake coming here.
