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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 4384914" data-attributes="member: 100">Hunkering Down in WinterhavenWhen you walk into a small town with a human armed to the teeth, an Eladrin man from the Feywild who is prettier than any of the town's girls, a horned and tailed thief who has gained powers through a pact with infernal powers and nearly three hundred pounds of Lawful Good Dragonborn whoop-ass, all with a bound Kobold, you are going to raise some eyebrows.  One almost has to feel sorry for the guard at the gate when a party like us saunters up.Almost.He stuttered and summoned the Captain of the Guard.  The Captain let us know that us Player Handbook races (species, really) would be welcome in Winterhaven.  Apparently they have Teifling merchants and he actually knew the difference between an Eladrin and an Elf just by sight.  And the kicker, really, was that he had fought alongside Dragonborn mercenaries in his younger days.Yes, the Captain of the Guard had that whiff about him, as if he would be the Dungeon Master's player character were he able to get out from behind the screen and get his own character sheet.  He shushed us when we brought up ole Orcus and didn't continue the conversation until we were safe at the local lord's manor.The Captain of the Guard, whose name is written among my game notes on my character sheet that is stowed at the Dungeon Master's house, pragmatically took us to the local lord whose family name was Padrig or something to that effect.  Turns out Lord Padrig was a lady who had a greatsword over her mantle and the chainmail to match.  We could all sense some levels on her.She was referred to as Lord and never Lady, must be a Winterhaven thing; I don't pretend to fully understand humans.Lord Padrig and the Captain let us know that Orcus had been a problem of late and they weren't entirely sure who in town they could trust.  In situations like this, they understood the value of trustworthy, out-of-town muscle.  We were quickly hired to put this little demonic cult uprising down.  Nothing like gold to get me to stab a cultist in the neck.Bok was Petal's frontman and I believe I was going to discuss the Copper/Silver/Gold particulars on behalf of me and Kendrick.But before that, some food and a hot bath at the Inn.It is as if all D&D inn's are the same damned inn.  It is a small town so they knew we were coming and had set up rooms.  Everywhere you could see the evidence of that Winterhaven's grain wasn't the mercantile draw it once was.  The inn gave us each our own room and their bath-house was all but empty; we each got our own tub. If this is a taste of the adventuring life, count me in. We each went to our room, Kendrick and Bok heading over without a backward glance and Petal looking at us kind of nervously; she was used to the mercenary's life and having this much personal space made her edgy. I had a surprise waiting for me in my room.  The surprise was a funny thing, becuase I had seriously consider inquiring about finding a lady to warm my bed but reconsidered, not wanting to be crass (in or out of character).  Still, here was this lovely peasant girl who, judging by the Dungeon Master's grin, was not what she seemed. "Nice, I was going to inquire about a lovely lady to warm my bed." She replied, "Garlach wouldn't approve of you touching one of his brides.  He would likely gut you daily for a thousand years." "I am willing to risk it," I said, pouring on the panache. "Are you?" she asked, as her illusion fell and a devil was sitting on my bed.  But a very pretty devil, mind you.  And I would know. I went for my wand and my knife but thought better of it.  If she wanted me dead, if she'd been sent by my brothers, I'd likely have been killed while in the throes of passion already. "Still willing to risk it, yes.  At the rate I'm going  I will likely be tortured in hell anyway.  Why are you here?  Did my family send you?" She laughed.  "Your family?  Your family is a moribund clan of inbred thugs.  They haven't had an original idea in their head in centuries.  They've even used Raise Dead and killed the same people twice." "Don't speak ill of my mother."  That Raise Dead in order to kill them twice was her favorite trick, dear old mom. "But you, you surprised us.  We never thought one of your clan would make a run for it.  We never thought anyone would hack and slash their way out." For some reason, I felt like I had to explain myself.  "Listen, Kendrick and I only killed who we had to kill.  If no one had gotten in our way, we would've walked out of the city in peace and good will." "We don't care who you killed." "That said, every bastard we did kill had it coming and good riddance to them.  Have you seen the company I am currently keeping?  Aren't you worried about my six foot six Dragonborn friend with the Lawful Good alignment?" "Bahamut does not concern us.  His folk can be used.  We are watching you now.  We are intrigued by your forward thinking and initiative.  If you are interested in living for a while longer, I would consider looking into the cemetary.  There are dark goings on there tonight." The dialogue was snappier than that; it had some pop to it.  The Dungeon Master and my player have a long history of gaming together and it lended itself to a fun little dialogue not really shown to its fullest here. The long and the short of it: Devils are watching me. Got it. Dark goings on in the cemetary.  I might need some help with that one.  A minute or so later, I knocked on Petal's door. "Are you having trouble sleeping too?  These single rooms are not helping my-" "Petal, listen, something is going down in the cemetary." "How do you know of this?" she asked, over enunciating in that way she does, all naive and nice. I took a deep breath.  "Bahamut sent me a vision." Bluff roll = 1. I cannot catch a break. Her tremendous brow furrowed.  "I don't think so but Bahamut does work in mysterious ways.  We should probably check it out." Kendrick and Bok woke up quickly and we were off to the cemetary, as advised by a Devil, sent to tell me that they are watching me.  It seemed like a perfectly reasonable reason to arm up and charge into the cemetary at night.  We hadn't yet had a fight this session.  It was past time.</blockquote>

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