GREYHAWK: The Golden Era CY963: A1-P1-S2 [RESTORED CAMPAIGN THREAD]

[Tellerian Hawke]

Summary of the Campaign Thusfar:​

1. The party came together quite by accident, just before dawn on Patchwall 9, CY 963, in a basement tavern known as The Godless Rogue.

2. There was a bar fight, in which many patrons, as well as the tavern owner himself, died as a result of swordplay. The party, of course, was swept up into the middle of it all.

3. Vega, the barmaid, joined the party, seeing no future for herself if things were left as-is.

4. The party meets Pallender Nightwind, and they are promised future employment.

5. The party decides to turn in Alec and Alwin for the bounty on their heads.

6. On their way to turn them in, the party encounters 5 pirate crewmen who are friends of Alec and Alwin; a brawl ensues, out in the open, on the streets of Dyvers!

7. The party spends a little time sorting things out, and talking to the city guard. They are introduced to Lieutenant Benquist, second-in-command of the Dyvers City Watch.

8. The party heads to Dewydd's mansion, Moresby Hall, just outside of the city proper, through the West Gate.

9. The party meets and befriends Sylvar Belanor, a wayward bard; Sylvar joins the party.

10. Vega tells her story. (See below.)

11. The party meets and befriends Lathir The Wild, a wandering druid. Lathir joins the party.

12. The party goes back to Dyvers on Sylvar's recommendation, to see if they can find members of The Seven of Steel, who have reportedly suffered badly in their recent expedition to the Village of Skorane.

13. The party finds the leader of the Seven, a Dwarf known as Maxwell Silverhammer. Maxwell shares his story with the party. (See below.)

14. The party decides to help escort Maxwell to the Village of Caltaran. Once there, they hope to recruit Vale Stonegallows to help them.

15. The party has two encounters on the way to Caltaran; the first is a pair of Manticores being ridden by Fiendish Orcs, wearing Pomarj insignia. The second is with a lone assassin named Vaelik The Deathblade, who was masquerading as Sheriff Denby Fairweather.

16. The party arrives in Caltaran, where they meet up with Vale Stonegallows, who offers to cast Speak With Dead, so that they can attempt to find out more about their slain enemies.

GM: A FEW FACTS ABOUT CALTARAN: ​ 1. A patrol of 40 Dyvers Regulars (Cavalry) comes through town every third day. The patrol is led by a well-known Cavalier named Sir Lawrence Hartford, aka "The Fierce Lieutenant." 2. The town is walled, with a low, 6-foot high, wooden palisade, but the gates are usually open around the clock. There are two gates, a northern gate, and a southern gate. 3. There is one, around-the-clock law enforcement officer here: Sheriff Sir Denby Fairweather; Sir Denby maintains an office on the main street. It is a two-story building; the first floor is his office, and a 3-cell jail. The second floor is his personal apartment. Sir Denby concerns himself mainly with the oversight and patrol of the surrounding farms, while relying on his deputies to run things in-town. 4. Sir Denby is served by 10 full-time (sun-up to sun-down) deputies, all of whom are young and green. These deputies live in town. They conduct daily patrols, and are charged with maintaining order on a day-to-day basis. They are rarely at the gate; they concern themselves more with patrolling the village's interior streets. 5. There are about 200 locals (men between the ages of 16 and 40) who are part of a reserve volunteer militia, whom can be called on in times of crisis. Most live in the village, but about 30 or so live on one of the many surrounding farms. 6. Caltaran has a reputation for being quiet and peaceful.It is home to a large church of Saint Cuthbert, which is run by a Patriarch of Cuthbert known as Father Xavier. The church is also home to The Order of the Flaming Mace, an order of knights who serve St. Cuthbert. There are 120 of these knights, who are very well-equipped, including 60 heavy warhorses with chainmail barding, and they have sworn to protect the village in times of need. Since the church (which is a veritable mini-fortress, occupying 2 whole acres of land inside the village) is located near the center of the village (within easy distance of either main gate) Sir Denby does not feel the need to post gate guards. Sometimes, Knights of the Flaming Mace can be seen around town, going about their business. It is the presence of these knights (not Denby or his deputies, nor the reserve militia, nor the Dyvers Patrols) which makes the citizenry feel truly safe. (Although the Dyvers Patrol is a very capable force, which has run down many outlaws in the past.) 7. Despite the presence of the deputies, and of the knights, roughly half of the businesses in town employ private security forces, "just in case." What this translates to is that when you walk into a place of business, you might see a lone, armored guard standing just inside the doors. 8. Things to do in Caltaran: there is a farmer's market which is open one day per week (every Freeday,) from sun-up 'til noon. There is one inn, one livery stable, one general store (food and tools), one blacksmith, one butcher, one baker, one jeweler, one leather tanner, one horse trainer, one dog trainer (who sells guard dogs), one tavern, one corral (where local beef ranchers bring their stock to sell), one tailor shop, one wainwright, two boot-makers, three restaurants, and one weaponsmith. There are also *many* small-scale, "carnival booth" antique / curiosity dealers, cart vendors (fruits and vegetables), and "street spoons" serving prepared food (basically, the medieval equivalent of hot dog vendors.)

GM: Important Campaign History: The Sergeant's Comment.​ Sergeant (To Vega): "Hmmm. This is very interesting. Thanks for the tip. Ya know, there's more than two Follsworth brothers; there's actually five of them: Algron, Andar, Artael, Alec, and Alwin. These two are the youngest. No one has seen Algron in a long while, but Andar and Artael already lead a large gang of outlaws, who have been operating in the Kron Hills region, raiding merchant traffic from Verbobonc to Dyvers. They're known to employ humanoids, Hobgoblins and the like. I suspect these two were in charge of expanding the operation here to Dyvers. If that's so, then their brothers are likely to come looking for them. I'll tell the captain to place these two in solitary, on the third level. You folks have done well. The City of Dyvers is in your debt."

GM: Important Campaign History: Vega's Story. ​ Vega sighs, knowing this moment was coming. But she seems almost relieved to finally have a chance to speak her peace: "My name is Vega Claessdatter. I am the daughter of a Fruztii Shaman known as Claes Larsson. For those that don't know, the Fruztii peoples are known by common parlance as 'Northmen,' or as 'Frost Barbarians," neither name of which my people approve. We hail from the *Great Middan Lands*, known as 'The Frozen North,' in common parlance, again, not a name that my people appreciate being saddled with. The peoples that you call the 'Ice, Snow, and Frost Barbarians,' are actually the Cruski, Schnai, and Fruztii peoples, respectively. But these are tribal names, which refer to the region in which each group of peoples live. We are all Cimmerian, proud descendants of Cromm, The Lost Brother of Odin." Vega pauses a moment, assessing the looks that she is getting from the rest of the party; seeing that she has your attention, and that no one has yet balked at her heritage, she continues: "I grew up learning to ride, hunt, fish, swim, ride, and handle horses. My father taught me an affinity for the Earth, and for the Sky, the two places where he said that magic truly came from. My father taught me to respect the ways of Odin; but he said even the gods themselves get their magic from the Earth and from the Sky. Odin gained his ability to foresee the future from the World Tree (an aspect of the Earth, or 'Middangeard') after hanging himself from its branches. The Weave is the force of magic, and it flows from the Earth, and into the Sky, permeating the world. My father taught me how to read our ancestral Fruztii runes, and how to connect to magical totems through the Kul'Tuk, which means "the merging of the mind with The Weave." By "merging" with an item, I can sometimes figure out how the item works, and how to invoke its power. I have already become quite good at doing so." Vega takes a deep breath; it is evident that she has reached the 'difficult part' of what she has to say: "When my father died of old age, I journeyed to my cousin Hrothgar's village, in hopes of joining the family there. But Hrothgar, who was also a shaman, was jealous of my natural ability with The Weave, and sold me into slavery, after drugging my mead. I was only 15 years old," she says, with a tear in her eye. "I ended up as a concubine for a greedy merchant from Ket, known as Habib Ibn Khalad, and I was with him for many years. Fortunately, Habib's harem was so large, that he never actually had the chance to lie with me. This was partly due to the fact that he had purchased me for use by his son, who had not yet come of age." You can feel the seething bitterness coming from Vega as she says this, although there is also an undertone of thankfulness, since the powers that be spared her the fate of being raped. Still, it is evident from her tone, that the time she spent in the harem was not pleasant, nor was it easy. After all, slavery is still slavery, no matter how one cuts it. "Before I could be abused in that way, I managed to escape, with the aid of a Dwarven merchant named Elgin Coalbeard, who had been visiting Lopolla on business. I stayed with him for several years, working as a servant, and he treated me quite well. When I asked to leave his employ, he graciously agreed, and gave me 200 gp. with which to make a new start. It was while I was in Elgin's employ that I learned to speak Dwarvish." Vega pauses again to compose herself, before continuing: "I journeyed with Elgin until reaching Dyvers, where I decided quite foolishly to make my new start. I was 22 when I arrived in Dyvers, seeking my fortune. But being unfamiliar with the customs in this part of the world, I soon found myself beaten and robbed; the city guard arrived before I could be violated, which was the second time in my life that the gods had saved me from such a fate. But having nowhere to go, and no money, I took the only work that an unmarried woman could find in a city like Dyvers: I became a barmaid. That was 2 years ago... Since then, I've lived in fear, despair, and hopelessness. I was often chastised by Vex and by the type of patrons his bar attracted, for being too cynical, and too suspicious, too slow to trust. Ha! I gave no reply to such accusations, because I knew my words would fall on deaf ears. The betrayal of my cousin cut deeply into my soul, but it wasn't until I started working for Vex that I learned how to size people up, and discover their true intentions. I have learned to lie, cheat, and steal, not for self-indulgence, but for the simple purpose of survival in this evil pit; life here is harsher than it ever was in the so-called (by your kind) wasteland that my people hail from." Vega concludes by saying,"I have not seen Elgin since he left me in Dyvers, two years ago. I know that Elgin makes his home in the Dwarven Fortress of Greysmere, near the Barony of The Five, and that he does a lot of trading in Greyhawk, since he maintains a summer cottage there. That had been the reason that I wanted to journey there; I was looking to find a friend. But I think I have already achieved that, here with you all. So here's where I'll stay." "It would seem, Vega, that we have some things in common. I was taken as a slave by Harald son of Albrekt of the Cruski tribe during a raid. I was captive for 22 years, although I was treated much better than you were. With time I came to admire my captors and began following the ways of Odin." Vega (To Sylvar): "Count yourself lucky; despite the proximity of our respective lands, the Cruski, Schnai, and Fruztii peoples have very different customs when it comes to the taking of captives. The Cruski honor the old traditions; they are mostly farmers, except in years where the weather produces a weak or insufficient harvest. It is on these years that raids are conducted; and captives are never taken on a raid, unless it serves a purpose. If a woman is taken captive, it is because the captor intends to have her as a wife. If a child is taken captive, it is because the captor has no children, and wants to adopt the child as his own. The elderly are never taken captive, out of respect. If a man is taken captive, it is because the captor needs help in some way; if his farm is short-handed, he might take a captive to help him work the farm. If the captor has no brothers, or not many friends, he might take a captive to fill that role. But no matter the underlying reason, the theme remains the same: the Cruski peoples take captives to make their tribe stronger. Such captives are never mistreated, and always eventually earn their freedom, by which time, most are reluctant to leave their new tribe, whom they have come to love and respect." Vega pauses a moment, before continuing. You can tell that speaking of this deeply affects her."The Schnai have no honor; they are the weakest of the tribes, for they lack unity of purpose, as well as lacking a respect for the true gods; they revere the Suel gods, a pantheon of beings who came to power during a time when the true gods of Asgard were occupied elsewhere. The Suel gods are petty and capricious, although for the most part, not truly evil. The Schnai worship a deity known as Vatun, who encourages raiding for the sake of plunder and excess gain, and also a contempt for farming and ranching. Vatun was said to be imprisoned long ago, by clerics of Telchur, another Suel deity whose dogma is no better. The Schnai revere Telchur also, although such worshipers are in the minority." Vega, Continuing: "Of course, my people, The Fruztii, once took captives in the same way as The Cruski; but in times past, about 300 years ago, my people decided that taking captives diluted the tribe's blood, so they stopped doing so for the purposes of acquiring wives and children. Only men are taken captive now, and mostly for the purposes of labor. My people treat such captives with honor, and like the Cruski, my people will allow a captive to earn his freedom. Such captives are always well-treated; and it is for this reason that my blood boils against my cousin Hrothgar. By selling me to a foreigner, with the knowledge that I would be abused and ill-treated, he violated every principle and every belief that my people hold dear. He could have adopted me as his daughter, since I am of pure Fruztii lineage, and forced me to be an apprentice, serving him for 10 years before he would be required by tribal law to teach me the shamanic ways. And there would have been honor in doing so. But his vanity would not allow him to be eclipsed by his pupil, so he sold me in secret. I would imagine that he told the people that I left of my own accord. He probably does not expect to ever see me again. But he will; one day, when I feel strong enough to challenge him, I will return to my people, and expose his treachery, and take his life!"

GM: Important Campaign History: The Tale of Maxwell Silverhammer.​ OOC: The party met Maxwell at 6:30 pm, about an hour before sunset. The initial conversation with Vega took only 5 minutes. It took another 25 minutes for Maxwell to finish eating. At 7:00 pm, the party purchased the ale, and rented the dolly from the restaurant for a 2 day period (the minimum.) Maxwell is happy to be the one to wheel it along. The party reaches Westgate at about 7:15, and by 7:45, which is 15 minutes past sunset, they arrive in Moresby Hall; Mr. Farrin returns quickly to town, as per Dewydd's instructions. He reaches Westgate by 8:10, and he reaches the Cartographer's Guild at 8:30, just as they are closing for the evening. Mr. Farrin convinces the Guildmaster to allow him a quick purchase; he quickly hands over 6 platinum and 5 gold for the regional map that Dewydd wanted, and bids the man good evening. This takes a mere 5 minutes. Luckily, the general sundries store is just across the street, and Mr. Farrin has some incredible luck: he catches the shop owner as he is locking up as well, and with a little "rare metal persuasion" (add 10% to the standard cost of these goods) he convinces the shop owner to allow him to come in and gather Dewydd's requested supplies. By 9:00 pm, Mr. Farrin is on his way back, with all supplies in-hand; he pays a city guardsman who is just coming off duty 5 gp. to escort him back to Moresby Hall; after all, it is now dark, and he is unarmed, and alone. The guard agrees, since it is such a short trip, and he'd like to have extra money for drinking at the tavern, which he plans to do before returning to his barracks. Mr. Farrin arrives at 9:45 pm, at which point, Maxwell has been talking for about 30 minutes... Maxwell (To The Party, In Common): "There were 7 of us, two Humans, a couple of brothers named Earl and James Miller, and then there was myself, and two other Dwarves from the New Kingdom, Trevin Ironspear, and Gavin Goldbraid. Then there was the Elf, a big fella' named Mallin Quickblade, and last, but not least, the most honorable of the group, ironically: a Half-Orc by the name of Kromdek Shieldbreaker. Every one of us was a scrapper, hungry for a fight. We thought we'd be unstoppable... We wiped out a whole tribe of marauding Goblins in the Kron Hills, and people called us heroes." Maxwell takes a long swig of ale, as if he hopes it will give him the courage to continue: "I told 'em to stick to the living. I'm older than any of you, I says, even the Elf, I says. Goblins are one thing, the undead are quite another, I says. And you know what they did? THEY LAUGHED! The fool Elf bragged about his Greatsword, and how nothing could stand against it; Trevin bragged about his spear, saying that zombies would never get past its reach. Even the Miller Boys laughed, calling me 'too cautious,' and asking if 'maybe I should consider retiring'! So... fine, I says, let's have at it then. So we went; we loaded up on grain for the horses, and food and beer for ourselves, like we were going on a damned picnic! Not one of them purchased a single vial of Holy Water! Nor Alchemist Fire! You'd have thought we were going to visit relatives!" Maxwell chuckles halfheartedly, taking another big swig."When we got there, we found almost nothing. The place had apparently been picked clean. There were a few humanoid corpses, and a few Human and Demihuman corpses, none of which had any gear worth salvaging. Apparently, Goblins, Hobgoblins, and Orcs still frequent the area, and it's my guess that the adventurers coming out there to hunt undead ran afoul of them. Anyways, none of the corpses looked to be in danger of rising as undead. They were just your run-of-the-mill, stinky, bloody corpses. We scouted the place, and near the south end of town was where we found something peculiar... There was this big well. It was obviously the main well for the village, back when this place was alive. But there was this big statue in front of it, must've been about 9 feet tall, made entirely of clay. The statue was ugly as sin; it looked like a person, but whoever the sculptor was, made it disfigured and creepy. Its arms were too long, and so were its legs. We had no idea at that time what it was. Anyways, I says, is the well still usable? I'm a bit parched, I says. We all go and look, and as soon as we get near it, we can smell fresh death, the smell that comes from LOTS of dead bodies piled in a single place. Not the smell of a battlefield, where the corpses are scattered about. The smell of a freshly dug / not complete mass grave. We look down the well, which was about 10 feet in diameter, and we can see that it went about 30 feet down. At the bottom, there was all these spikes, and there was people impaled on 'em, still wiggling around and moaning, trying to get off 'em! There were also walking corpses, what Human folk call 'Zombies,' and 'Skeletons,' milling about. But they were all at the bottom of the pit, about 50 of 'em, and didn't seem to be aware of the fact that we were watching them from above." Maxwell fixes a cold stare at each party member before continuing: "That's when the fool Elf says, 'it's like fish in a barrel, let's get some rope and go down there, and round us up some easy coin!' Can you believe that? He wasn't scared at all; dead folks walking about didn't phase him in the least. I was about to scold him, when we all hear this voice behind us, that says, 'I don't have any rope, but perhaps I could lend you boys a strand or two of webbing?' that's when we turn to see that while we poking our noses down the well, this HUGE spider and his little spiderlings had all crept up behind us! And the blasted thing could TALK!" This is how Maxwell describes the spider who is talking.​ Maxwell looks really upset, trying to take another big swig, but only managing a mouthful, because of his shaky hands. "The other little spiderlings were the size of small dogs; there must've been about 30 of 'em. But this big, talking thing was truly scary. I knew we was in trouble when it talked to us. I could feel that something wasn't right. Then Mallin goes and speaks some blasted spell! It was only a single word, and all it did was make Mallin's eyes glow, but it upset the talkin' spider something fierce! So they all charge us, the big one and the little ones, too, and as we engage them, the statue starts to move! And its eyes light up with blue fire! ... We squished a lot of the spiderlings, pretty easy. But the blasted statue grabbed both of the Miller boys, one at a time, and threw them both down the stinkin' well! Both of 'em met their end on those spikes. The fall was brutal, but I imagine the spikes were poisoned, too. I couldn't believe my eyes! I hammered the statue over and over again with my trusty mallet, to no avail. It was like I couldn't hurt 'em. Or if I did, he didn't react at all. A couple of folks around here have said that it must have been a Clay Golem, but I don't know if they're right or not. All I know is, the statue was hard to deal with, even after we all started concentrating our efforts against it. We ignored the spiderlings; it was me and Trevin and Gavin on the statue, and Mallin and Kromdek on the big talker. That's when things got weird..." Maxwell pauses a moment, with a tear in his eye. "The big talker looks at Mallin, and says, 'come, surface Elf, do my bidding!' and the next thing we know, the big Elf is swinging his sword at Kromdek! That damned Greatsword was nearly Kromdek's end! That's when we all fled, each of us in different directions. I don't know what foul magic that talkin' bug was using, but I knew that if we fought it out, we were doomed. I think the other fellas got the same idea, too. We all kinda fled at the same time. We re-grouped a week later at the Minotaur & Kobold, and that's when all the squabbling began. Me and the half-breed both wanted to go back, and try to fish out the bodies of the Miller Boys, before they rise as undead. It ain't right to leave a brother-in-arms behind, even if he's dead. But the others wanted no part of it. And those two have the nerve to call themselves Dwarves! But no matter... I suggested we find Mallin also, and try to free him from whatever spell it was that the spider put on him, but even Kromdek was against that one... So I called them all cowards, they all called me crazy and suicidal, and after making a scene in the restaurant, we all went our separate ways. Three days passed; I had stopped for a hot meal and one last plate of cheesecake when you folks found me today. The rest of the Seven are scattered, like dry leaves in the wind. I got a cousin just up the road by the name of Vale Stonegallows; he's staying in the village of Caltaran, about 45 miles west of here. He was on his way to join us on our trip to Skorane, but he got delayed. He sent word by courier that he would need to stop a few days in Caltaran, while his foot healed. Apparently, he got some sort of infection that gave even him a hard time trying to heal it. He's a cleric, ya know. Acolyte of Clangeddin. Solid sort of fellow. I wish we had been able to take him with us to Skorane. An extra weapon in that fight might have made a difference. Anyway, since he came all this way, I figured I'd go escort him home. It's the least I could do. It's been awhile since I've seen our ancestral halls. When I go back, I might just go back to stay."

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

The Last Three Significant IC Posts [MAXWELL SILVERHAMMER / VALE STONEGALLOWS]

The Last Few Items Required for the Restoration of the Campaign Thread [A1-P1-S2]:​

OOC: First, Something I Though Would Be Useful: An Inventory of What the Party Took from Their Dead Foes. ​ 7 party members w/ at least light horses + 1 extra horse w/o a rider. Horse Carrying Capacity: Light load <=150 lbs; Medium load, 151–300 pounds; Heavy load, 301–450 pounds. Drag load 2,250 pounds. 360 lbs - Six (6) usable medium-sized deer, partially or un-field-dressed: Field dressed correctly, yields 60 lbs of usable venison per deer. To carry, 6x60 = 360lbs. (split among party) 24 lbs - 48 spikes (on whomever can carry it) 50 lbs - 2 Chainmail Shirts (on whomever can carry it) 50 lbs - 2 Saddles (manticore) (on whomever can carry it) 25 lbs - Riding Saddle (on Jerome) 1 lb - Bit and Bridle (on Jerome) 21 lbs - Saddlebag w/ 3 weeks iron rations (on Jerome) 5 lbs - 50 ft. silk rope (on Jerome) 8 lbs - Greatsword (on Jerome) 3 lbs - Composite Longbow (on Jerome) 3 lbs - Quiver/ 20 arrows (on Jerome) 8 lbs - 2 waterskins (on Jerome) 16 lbs – 4 Saddlebags (from manticore) (on Jerome or another horse; use to hold magic items, gold pieces; silver pieces) 8 lbs - 2 Falchions (Pomarj Symbol) (on Jerome) 2 lb - Short sword (on Jerome) 1 lb - Dagger (on Jerome) 17 lbs - 1 set of Ruined studded leather armor (formerly magic/masterwork) (on Jerome) .5 lb - Silver scroll tube, w/ fine sheepskin vellum, Orcish Recipe for Elf Ear Chili (Mark of Gurrok Mak, Overlord of Pomarj) (on Jerome) 10 lbs - 3 sets of deer (buck) horns for spell components (on Jerome) .25 lb - Rumpled Hat, which you find where he discarded the comb (magic) (Saddleback on Jerome) .5 lb - Ornate Belt (magic) (Saddleback on Jerome) 3 lbs – Cloak (magic) (Saddleback on Jerome) .3 lb - 3 vials of dark liquid (Saddleback on Jerome) .1 lb - 1 vial of clear liquid with a blue tint (magic) (Saddleback on Jerome) 0 lbs - Ornate Ring (magic) (Saddleback on Jerome) 18.6 lbs - All Coinage: 607 gp.; 322 sp. (Saddleback on Jerome) .625 lb – all Gems in small pouch: 1 Polished Amber; 1 Bloodstone; 1 Black Opal (extremely rare); 4 diamonds; 3 rubies

Map of the Locations of Kalmir and Kalimbar.




These are the last three significant (length-wise, and information-wise)
IC posts that were made:​

GM: Originally posted by: The Dungeonmaster, on Sept. 12, 2016: OOC: Ok, following Respen's plan, the party heads back to town... You guys have to decide one thing, and that is this: do you take the whole body of the Orcs and the Half-Orc? Or just the heads? Taking the whole body will allow you to cast Speak With Dead. Taking only the heads will prevent others from talking with the corpses that are left behind. You can decide on the OOC channel. Otherwise, the trip to town is uneventful. You arrive in Caltaran at about 7:30 pm, just as the sun is beginning to set. There is only one inn to serve the entire village. Rooms for the night will cost each party member 2 silver (common room) or 5 silver (private room.) Water is complimentary in the common room; private rooms come with 1 free keg of ale (128 oz.) To speed things along, I am going to assume that rest and recuperation are foremost on everyone's mind; therefore, I am assuming that you all pay for a room, get a good night's rest, and wake in the morning. Patchwall 11, CY 963: 6 Am - Wake up. Wash. Eat breakfast. 7 Am - Memorize spells. 9 Am - You all meet in the common room, to plan your day, as you enjoy complimentary water and complimentary bread. XP AWARDS: Each Party Member Combat = 1,500 xp Discovery of the Scouts = 150 xp Discovery of the False Sheriff = 500 xp Excellent Roleplaying by All Party Members = 250 xp Get Maxwell Safely to Caltaran = 150 xp Meetup With Vale (Which Will Happen Shortly) = 250 xp RESPEN ONLY: +150 xp for having a really good idea about Speak With Dead. LATHIR ONLY: +150 xp for ferociousness in combat. DEWYDD ONLY: +150 xp for making me laugh. ("I'm not the leader, just the best-dressed!") SYLVAR ONLY: +150 xp for the great ballad. Everyone: You're in the common room of the Red Roc Inn. It's 9 am in the morning, on Patchwall 11, CY 963. What do you do? [There was a discussion here about not telling the town guard any more than necessary, and about cutting the heads off the corpses to prevent the use of the Speak With Dead spell.]

GM: Originally posted by: The Dungeonmaster, on Sept. 12, 2016: [The original text to this post has been lost; what appears below is a summary.] I had originally posted about Vale's sudden appearance in the inn; since there is only one inn to serve the entire village, I commented that, upon reflection, no one was particularly surprised by this occurrence. 1. Vale walked downstairs, into the common room, while the party was there, having their discussion. 2. Maxwell greeted Vale, and exchanged pleasantries. 3. Vale inquires about the Seven of Steel; Maxwell tells him the whole story, both of Skorane, and the events that happened on the road between here and Dyvers. 4. Vale says that he overheard part of the conversation, and that now he has the information about the context of what he overheard, he is in agreement; the party should say very little to anyone, town guards or otherwise, until they find out more about what is going on. 5. Vale says that he can help, as long as the party had not yet carried through on its plans to cut the heads from the corpses. 6. It is revealed (by Maxwell) that the corpses are still intact, and that they are wrapped up in blankets, and draped over the horses in the livery stable. Maxwell says that the stable boy was told that these were the bodies of relatives, that were being transported to Kalmir for funeral and burial. Maxwell told the stable boy that the bodies had been specially wrapped for the funeral ceremony, and that they should not be disturbed, lest the wrappings come unraveled. The stable boy agreed not to disturb the bodies.

GM: Originally posted by: Aust Thale, on Sept. 13, 2016: ~ Orcs, Manticores, Assassins, and the dead… 'Tis shaping up to be a most eventful morning. ~ Vale is in a pleasant mood. The opportunity to get on his feet again feels downright luxurious. Caltaran has been kind to him; of course, having enough silver to stay well-stocked has helped. Save a correspondence sent ahead to Maxwell in Dyvers, a second message back to the Dwarven mountains telling of his whereabouts, and two (2) messages to the Silverbeard Greyhawk & Dyvers quartermasters, he has sequestered himself here in Caltaran for the last five (5) weeks. He was warmly welcomed among the tavern-folk, remaining in the great room or in the front courtyard facing the river. Gold and silver certainly helps, but so has his assistance with the locals helping to repair weapons, craft minor alchemical assists, and watched over livestock several evenings so the standard shepherds could rest with their families. Like most dwarfs, he enjoys a hearty laugh. However, intemperate with his injury, he has grown frustrated with ‘cabin fever’, and he is eager to connect with the local Silverbeard religious presence. He had received word from Maxwell of their intent on exploring the forests south and southeast of Dyvers, as well as the bounties placed on the maugmorni… the undead. He has drawn up methods of hit-and-run attacks against hordes of less intelligent undead. He has been eager to test them out. "Max, it’s really good to see you, Cousin. Are you sure that I can’t persuade you to remain in Dyvers through the winter. It would be good to have kin near, not to mention the Order could use another able hand. I hear that Dyvers is more tolerant of orcs now. Seems some places are becoming more progressive, no?" He winks at his cousin, intentionally trying to get a rise out of him. Moving along in the conversation, he motions for the group to sit down with him while he finishes several pieces of bacon, an apple, and a cooked pear. “Sit good men, and lady," (looking at Vega); "...let’s discuss what you would like to ask these folks. I certainly would like to ask at least one question of the assassin. He said that he was the sheriff? That vexes me. I visited briefly with the sheriff as recently as three days ago. I had done some work for the constabulary, and he asked me who I was and where I came from. I answered him directly, as I sensed no guile.” Once the questions are determined, Vale retires for a few minutes to gather his things. He comes back to the tavern great room, clearly prepared to get on with it. A large, strong mature dwarf stands strong and true, large blue eyes and flowing salt-and-pepper hair, making him look considerably older than he really is. He wears a dark, deep burgundy tunic and black pants. A finely crafted and obviously sturdy backpack is in his left hand. He wears an ornate crafted leather belt with dwarven runes carved in silver on it, a sturdy belt-buckle keeping his pants up with a multicolored pouch tucked into and tied to it. He also carries a single bandoleer over his shoulder containing scroll cases and vials rolled up into it. His clothes and armor look like an amalgam of military and priestly vestments, multi-colored but organized. His leather boots are very high quality, less standard military issue and more high-grade mercenary. He carries a mithral chainmail shirt, a light crossbow, and an over-stacked quarrel of bolts. A militarized version of Clangeddin Silverbeard religious insignia adorns all of his clothing, including the mithral shirt and stamped impressions on his boots. Strapped to his left leg in a quick-draw holster is an obviously impressive masterwork dwarven waraxe with a silver blade and mithral blade coating on its edge, giving an appearance that the blade is wet. The ax seems larger than most one-handed waraxes, and it has a hole in the back base of its blade about the size of a typical holy symbol. He motions for the barkeep and has him stash the crossbow, quarrel & chainmail shirt in a large cabinet below the bar. Addressing the barkeep, “Clavers, you have the morning shift, eh? Would you do me a kindness by stashing these for a bit? We have some business to attend to, and I have my hands full at the moment, and it’s a pleasant morning. I’d hate to spoil it by armoring up prematurely.” He hands a couple of copper pieces to the barkeep. Stonegallows' eyes are sharp, intelligent and experienced. He walks firmly, backpack over one shoulder and bandoleer over the other, leaning forward ever so slightly. His visage is pleasant, but not the least bit trivial. The thought of an oak tree comes to mind. Sturdy. As he is walking out with the party, he straightens and looks about, “Oh, I almost forgot.” And he whistles a loud, shrill single whistle that tails off at the end. Several of the town folk react to his whistle with a smile and look around. Not seeing anything, they are quickly back to it. After a brief pause, Vale states matter-of-factly. “Alright, he’ll be along. “Let’s get to it.”

 

[Sylvar B.]

GM: Your original action was: Sylvar plays the first three chords of a song called "Dunamis", a rather electrifying tune when played in its entirety, but conveying the mood of being ready for adventure... He puts the lute back where he found it, grabs the Naginata and walks out with the rest of the party.

As Sylvar steps into the street, He is suddenly hit with blinding pain in his temples. He has a vision of the Mighty Odin sitting in front of a glowing rectangle, furiously tapping on the table. When the pain subsides and his sight is restored Sylvar is temporarily disoriented, not knowing where or who he is, and unable to recall the events of the last few weeks. The moment passes quickly, not taking more than a few seconds, with his memory restored and his wits about him Sylvar looks around to see if anyone else has been effected. There is no indication of a problem. He decides not to say anything, and proceeds to follow the rest of the party.

GM: Ok, at this point, the campaign is current; the party has stepped out into the street, following Vale. [Everyone: What do you do?]

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

As the party moves down the street, Vega asks, "Friend Vale, where might we be headed?"

 

[Aust Thale]

Vale - A Morning's Investigation

As the party moves down the street, Vega asks, "Friend Vale, where might we be headed?"

~ Come along Augustus , where are you? ~

To Vega: "Milady, I have a number of spell scrolls that put the false Denby and those orcs' whole purpose for being where they were at our fingertips. Trouble is, it's powerful magic, and I like to conserve it."

Vale whistles again, and looks about, brow furrowing. After a moment, he casts a long glance.

"I'm going to find the sheriff. That is, if the stiff in the blanket didn't find him first."

He thinks for a moment, and he looks at Dewyyd, "You are a soldier yes? I think a good soldier from Dyvers might want to introduce himself to the sheriff of Caltaran. Being about duty and aid, I would be happy to follow up with the dear sheriff and introduce you."

He winks at Vega. "There's our motive. We can improvise it from there."

At that moment, a deep bark breaks the air, and a very large dog...a very, very large dog...comes bounding around the corner of the tavern at full speed, stopping just short of Vale. <RUFF!>.

Vale, to the dog: "Good morn, Augustus! Have you had breakfast?"

To everyone's surprise, the mammoth dog seemingly replies directly to Vale's question in an affirmative, and licks the dwarf in the face. <RUFF!> Vale wipes off the slobber, and Augustus the very large dog attends to Maxwell also, clearly aware of who he is as well. The dog eyes the group standing with Vale and Maxwell with curiosity.

"Right then. Everyone, follow us; we are off to see the sheriff after Gus here gets a whiff of the stiff." He directs the dog in Dwarvish. The dog takes his station at Vale's left side. The animal is easily as high as Vale's head, able to look over Vale with little effort. He is a mottled white, black, and brown color with large brown eyes. He looks friendly enough, but his size is intimidating. He looks like a St. Cuthbert, but much larger. Were he to be unsettled, this dog would be a handful. He eyes the crowd of newcomers. He stays close to Vale, keeping a nervous eye on the party without any sound whatsoever.

Vale begins to walk toward the livery where the bodies are. The dog is disciplined, and wanders only a little, taking a moment to greet a herdsman headed out to tend to a local herd of animals. Vale does not correct him, and after a moment, the dog returns to Vale's side. After pointing out which body is the assassin's, Vale directs the dog to it and speaks to him in Dwarvish. Augustus sniffs the body, giving him a good once over. The blanket, other bodies, and livery smells do not help, but after a minute or two, Gus appears to have the scent.

Vale turns to the group: "I don't know if marching a large group through town is the best play here. Max, you should finish your breakfast, cousin, and keep an eye on our rooms and the gear I left with Clavers." Turning to Karth,"Would you mind keeping him company? The town is pleasant and agreeable enough, but if the stiff here managed to become the sheriff, it would be wise to thin out the crowd walking in the street. Travelers are frequent and come in numbers, but all the same...." Vale trails off his last sentence.

 

[MacConnell]

The Druid Keeps Some Distance

Lathir follows the group at a distance. He may be clumsy and lacking in social graces, but is not the least lacking in wisdom or forethought. He does not fear any danger for the party that is heading toward the sherif's but wishes to gage the reactions of others to the presence of the group in an attempt to identify any possible insurgency or peculiar interest.

His walking appears to amble and shows a wonder to the city life. He has no need to keep an even distance or view point on the group. His tracking and perception will suffice.

 

[Aust Thale]

Respen - Sorting things out...

OOC: I originally posted before the Great Disturbance a short post about taking the venison to the butcher, as well as collecting the remainder of the gear among the party's rooms. Unfortunately, I don't have that post, and I don't recall exactly what I said, so I am going to post Respen's intent here. The 360 lbs. of venison was dropped off at the local butcher as the party reached Caltaran the previous evening. It is normal even today for butchers to take deer carcasses that someone dropped off for processing during hunting season, and the same likely would be true in a town such as Caltaran. Asking for some lee-way from DM here.

~ There are enough of us to do more than one thing. ~

Respen, to Vale: "Stonegallows, I shall remain here with Karth and Maxwell. Actually, we acquired some gear and venison from our encounter on the road along with the orcs' and assassin's bodies. We dropped the venison by the butcher on our way in. I will follow up with the butcher, sort out some of the gear that can be sold (none of it is masterwork, so I think it should go to better causes), and acquire some additional spell scroll parchment to create some spells. I don't like to waste anything, especially time. When you determine whether the sheriff was replaced or his visage simply borrowed, come and find me. I want to see this interrogation of the dead. It sounds extraordinary!"

Respen walks toward the butcher while Karth & Maxwell walk back into the inn. "I'll join you in a little while, Karth and Maxwell." He turns to Vega, "Vega, would you be willing to accompany me? You know gemstones a little better than I do, no? It's okay if you'd rather go with the others, but I could use the help."

He watches the rest of the group: Dewyyd, Sylvar, Lathir, Vale and Gus the dire-St. Cuthbert, admiring the animal and tickled with his clearly advanced intelligence (for a dog) and training (for any animal). (And Vega if she chooses to go with the group instead of Respen.) He takes the list of gear he had written down the previous evening with him, intent on getting prices for much of the gear, including the non-masterwork weapons (the weapon-smith), the manticore saddles (the tannery or livery), the manticore saddlebags to be adapted to horses (tannery), the ruined magical studded leather armor (tannery) for repair, the deer horns (to an alchemist or mage tower for spell components), and the precious/semi-precious stones for appraisal (by a jeweler or general store).

OOC: Can the DM take a few minutes to review the list, and notwithstanding unknowns for the magic items, can you assign values to each of the items on the loot list? Respen will run it by the group, but it would be good to have something to go off of. The magic items can wait for the moment.

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

VENISON-A-PLENTY!

GM: The butcher would love for you to drop off your venison. He is more than happy to be of service. He tells you that butchering that much venison at one time is a lot of work, and will cost you 2 sp. per pound. (720 silver, or 72 gold.) He thinks he can do it in a single day. He also says that he will wave the butchering charge if you give him 60 lbs. of meat (which will leave you with 300 lbs. even.) You suspect that there might be more than 72 gold to be had by selling that much meat, ha ha. But then, butchers have to make a living, too.

Vega (To Respen, In Common): "I'd be happy to come along and help with the gems."

"...including the non-masterwork weapons (the weapon-smith), the Manticore saddles (the tannery or livery), the Manticore saddlebags to be adapted to horses (tannery), the ruined magical studded leather armor (the tanner) for repair, the deer horns (to an alchemist or mage tower for spell components), and the precious/semi-precious stones for appraisal (by a jeweler or general store). "

GM: The weaponsmith says he'll give you 60 gold apiece for each of the two Orc Falchions. They're curiosity items, and bear the mark of the Pomarj, so no one is going to carry them openly. They can really only be sold to collectors. The saddles are basically horse saddles with extra long belts to hold them in place. You could just cut back the length of the belts. [Worth 75% of book price, each.] The saddlebags are standard, horse saddlebags. No adaptation required. [Worth 85% of book price, each.] The tanner tells you that it will cost 400 gp. to fix the leather without ruining what's left of the enchantment. Then you'll need the services of a Wizard, he says. Deer horns (8 racks) are worth 15 gp. per rack. The alchemist will pay cash, right now. They're useful for virility ointments. The alchemist also says that the 3 vials of dark liquid are Carrion Crawler brain juice; hunters often use it to paralyze prey, so as not to mutilate the meat. He'll give you 140 gp. for each vial. (420 gp. total.) The Jeweler says that he can sell the Amber for 110 gp., thus, he will give you 70 gp. for it. The Bloodstone retail is 50 gp., so he'll give you 25 gp. The Black Opal retail is 1,150 gp.; after talking with Vega, he says that he'll give you 975 gp. for it. Vega gives him a kiss on the cheek, and says he's a sweet old man. He asks you were you got the 4 diamonds and 3 rubies; he says he can't afford to buy them from you, but that they're worth a small fortune. Since he's not buying them, he will charge 700 gp. (100 gp. ea.) to appraise their value. Or, if you give him the Black Opal, he'll waive the charge, and give you the difference in platinum (23 pp.)

 

[Diarmadhim]

"Soldier, me? Oh no, that's far too rigid for my blood. I am a mercenary - a soldier of fortune, if you will," I reply, chuckling. "That being said, I'm always up for introducing myself to others and making connections where I previously had none. It's good for business."

When Respen states his intentions, I respond, "Please don't commit my share of the goods to a sale. I might have a use for them."

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

THE PLOT THICKENS

The Plot Thickens​

As Vale, Dewydd, Sylvar, and Augustus amble down the street, followed at a discreet distance by Lathir, they stumble upon a very unusual situation; rounding the corner, with less than 100 feet to go until they would reach the sheriff's office, the group encounters something they did not expect. In front of the Sheriff's office, there are two sheriff's deputies, their longswords drawn, facing off against a lone man, in a fine, white, silk shirt, which has small amounts of blood splatter on it, wielding a greatsword that looks a lot like the one that was on the assassin's horse.

Silk Shirt Man (To the Deputies, in Common): "You fools, it's me, Sir Denby! Edward, I've known you since you were a boy! I used to help your father train horses! Paulek, talk some sense to your cousin!"

Edward (To ?Denby?, in Common): "Anyone could know that. And you reek of brandy! You want into the Sheriff's office? Drop the sword, and we'll arrest you, and then you can sleep off your delusions in a cell!"

Paulek (To ?Denby?, in Common): "Besides, you're about a foot too short, wrong color hair, and about 20 years too young to be Sir Denby. Plus, Sir Denby wouldn't be caught dead in clothes like that! Everyone knows he's a woodsman! Forest Green cotton is more his style, not white silk!"

Edward: "Besides, what did you do? Butcher a pig? You've got blood all over your shirt. I think you've been in a fight, sir. You'd better pray to St. Cuthbert that you didn't seriously hurt anyone!"

This scene is playing out before you, barely 70 feet distant.

[Everyone: What do you do?]