Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Andrew D. Gable" data-source="post: 457837" data-attributes="member: 4144">The sunlight filtered through the fragrant pines of the Deeping Frith as the three companions pressed onward.  Just a few scant moments ago, they had been fighting for their lives against the undead that had destroyed the wagons of the sorceress Maeve, led by the mysterious skeletal figure whose jaws did not move with his words.  But all were surprised at the band of warriors that had approached them from the sides.  A muscular man, his hair shot with gray and scarred face announcing him as an old veteran of the fight, advanced towards the three.  Kylie touched the hilt of her blade.“Put your blade away”, the man said, flicking his hand.  As Kylie acquiesces, he continues.  “I am Bricriu mac Guaire, champion of the Frith Margadh.  Who are you?”  The introductions complete and the determination of their intent made clear, the old warrior turned to the party, motioning them to follow him as he and his squad of soldiers passed through the wood.After about twenty minutes of walking, they came to a wooden palisade which stretched hundreds of feet in either direction.  Bricriu tapped on the wooden gates in a rhythmic pattern, and they swung open.  Another five minute’s walk led them across a cleared field to another gate, which Bricriu opened by repeating his first tap.  The gates opened onto a bridge, which led over a small moat into a mounded fortress.“Welcome to Frith Margadh,” Bricriu said.  The town was circular, a mound of earth surrounding the village like a wall.  Chickens, dogs, and cats scampered away as the aged warrior led the band of warriors among the crowded stone buildings.  He paused at a great long hall, the door to which was flanked by two warriors.  They stepped aside and let the champion past, and he led them past the threshold.The smell of burning incense and wood fires wafted out to greet the three as they ducked down under the doorway, emerging into a long stone hall lit by torches and braziers along its entire length.  A number of slaves excused themselves as they went about their business, but Bricriu led the two raven-haired girls and the elf through the hall to a raised dais, before which he fell to one knee.  On the dais rested a gilded and backless throne, on which reclined a thin and unimpressive figure in hide trousers and furs.  Silver armlets glinted from under his cloak, and his beard and fingers were adorned with numerous iron warrior-rings.“I am Conn Cruaslios,” he said, naming himself with the tribal word for “steel side”, and thereby denoting himself as a skilled warrior.  “And hail to you, travelers.  Bricriu has informed me you mean no harm.”  Smiling slightly, he looked them over as he spoke again.  “Well do I recall myself at your ages,” he said.  “So young, so eager to prove my valor.  And so I shall give you the chance!  This evening, when the sun sets, this evening is the festival of Beltaine.  You are invited to join us in the celebrations!  And then tomorrow, after the celebrations are done and you’ve recovered from a night’s revelry, report to Bricriu at this building.”</blockquote>

Verification