D&D 5E [IC] Creamsteak's Storm King's Thunder: Goldenfields


Storm King's Thunder: Triboar, Goldenfields, OOC, RG

Goldenfields is a huge, walled temple-farm dedicated to Chauntea, the goddess of agriculture. Called "the Granary of the North," it's the only reason many Northerners ever taste soft-fleshed fruit larger than bush berries. Waterdeep and its neighbors consume the temple's reliable output: carefully husbanded grains and dried, oil-packed, or salted foodstuffs preserved in vast storage cellars, vats, and squat stone grain-towers.

Run by Abbot Ellardin Darovik, Goldenfields is a stronghold of the Emerald Enclave. Members of that faction are as welcome here as clergy of Chauntea; many of them stay for months at a time to help with the work and the vigilant defense of the farm against insects and blights, as well as would-be vandals and plunderers. Hired guards and adventurers patrol the walls and the land immediately around them. Inside the farm, young treants allied with the Emerald Enclave hide within stands of trees, ready to animate trees to repel invaders. More than five thousand people live and work in Goldenfields year round, farming more than twenty square miles of tillage in gangs of hard-working gardeners.

The sprawling temple-farm is built on higher ground than the surrounding fields, and it's enclosed on all sides by a wall of mortared stone. The outer wall is 60 feet high (20 feet high inside the compound) and 30 feet wide. The wall is built out at several points, spaced at least a mile apart, with stone pagodas and barracks at those locations. These watch posts have unobstructed views of the surrounding countryside.

The outer wall is in need of repair in many places. Time and weather have eroded some of the mortar, creating ruts between the stones that can serve as handholds and footholds.

The entrance to Goldenfields is a large stone gatehouse set into the middle of the south wall. Beyond its gates, dirt roads crisscross the interior of the compound, providing passage between and through its fields and orchards. Roads also run along the inside of the wall, connecting the various watch posts. During the harvest season, wagons make their way between the fields, gathering food and grain and transporting it to cellars beneath the watch posts, where the food is kept under lock and key until caravans from Waterdeep and other settlements arrive to pick it up. In addition to the large grain fields, fruit orchards, and vegetable gardens, smaller gardens hug the outer walls. These gardens grow berries, rhubarb plants, and other such fare.

Most of Golden fields' workers live in a small town situated near the abbey, where the abbot hosts morning, noon, and evening prayer. North of town is an enormous inn called Northfurrow's End. Visitors planning to spend the night in Goldenfields are directed here.

[sblock=Map] Goldenfields-small.png[/sblock]

[sblock=Locations]G1. GATEHOUSE
The Northfurrow trail ends before a magnificent stone gatehouse carved with images of a full-bodied woman (representations of Chauntea) cradling cornucopias. The gatehouse is a fortress in its own right. Above its tall, thick wooden doors are arrow slits that seem to peer down suspiciously on all visitors.

Merchants and other visitors who come seeking food are rarely turned away, but their wagons and belongings are thoroughly searched in the gatehouse to make sure they contain nothing that could damage crops, such as rodents and vermin. Guests who want to spend the night are directed to Northfurrow's End (area G8).

At more or less regular intervals around the perimeter of Goldenfields, the outer wall (which is 60 feet high on the outside and 20 feet high on the inside) widens to accommodate broad stone parapets with buildings atop them. Each parapet features a 30-foot-tall stone pagoda topped by a weather vane. A wooden statue of Chauntea stands in the middle of each pagoda, holding a large bronze gong and surrounded by cornucopias. Next to each pagoda are one or two stone outbuildings that serve as barracks. A 10-foot-wide, moss-covered stone staircase leads from the top of the parapet down to the compound. A set of locked, iron bound wooden doors at ground level provide access to storerooms and cellars located underneath each watch post.

The first thing visitors to Goldenfields see as they pass through the gatehouse is a 20-foot-tall wooden statue of Chauntea, depicted as a plump, smiling woman standing with her hands on her hips in a garden of golden wheat, surrounded by a dirt roundabout. North of the statue is a stone building with an open front, above which hangs a sign that reads "Earth Mother's Bounty." Visitors can buy seeds and cornucopias here.


Grain is stored in these squat stone towers.

On the outskirts of the town are two large fields of roaming oxen and cattle, with cordoned-off pens for sheep, chickens, turkeys, and pigs. Each field is roughly a half-mile in diameter and enclosed by wooden fences with rearing horses carved into their posts. During the day, shepherds as well as workers with milk buckets and wool shears can be seen moving among the herds of cows and sheep.

The buildings that house most of the residents of Goldenfields are arranged in concentric half-rings around a central square where locals can socialize and gather for picnics after midday prayers. Orderly rows of wooden longhouses, each one large enough to house a hundred people, face inward toward a central plaza, with the abbey of Chauntea off to the southeast. Each longhouse is a work of art, its beams sculpted with images of a particular animal, thereby differentiating it from its neighbors. Most of Goldenfields' workers are human commoners. A handful of peaceful Chauntea worshipers live and work among them.

Wagons and wheelbarrows are parked just about everywhere, free for anyone to use. The oxen needed to
pull the wagons are kept in the livestock fields (area G5). A grove of trees south of town is home to three young treants. If the town or the abbey comes under attack, their job is to animate nearby trees and aid in the town's defense. The grove is also home to an awakened tree named Lifferlas (see appendix D). Created by a longdead druid, Lifferlas is the oldest living resident of Golden fields. It speaks Common and has long entertained the children of the workers with harrowing, often humorous tales of heroes and monsters, as well as legends about the gods, Chauntea in particular. The tree allows children to climb it while it walks about cautiously with hosts of them clinging to its boughs and screaming with delight.

The largest and most elaborate building in Goldenfields is the abbey, Harvesthome, a centuries-old stone edifice whose outer walls have statues of Chauntea at every corner, her hands raised to the sky as though casting a spell to summon rain. Well-tended hedges surround the foundation, and a sun-shaped window of stained glass is set above the entrance and the steps leading up to it. Narrow windows of stained glass decorated with images of wheat, fruit, and vegetables light the pillared arcades within. Toward the back of the building, mounted between sturdy roof beams, is a large bronze bell that is rung fifteen minutes before prayers every morning, noon, and evening.


Standing north of the town is a three-story stone edifice with arched windows that offer a view of the surrounding gardens. Thin plumes of smoke issue from its many chimneys on rainy days and cold nights. Life-size statues of rearing horses flank the double doors that lead to the common room. Above these doors hangs a wooden sign that proclaims the name of this grand establishment, Northfurrow's End, in fancy lettering. West of the main building is a stable house that can hold and feed up to fifty horses.

Goldenfields' brewery is a stately, two-story manse where a beer called Goldengulp is made, using the finest local barley and hops. Visitors aren't allowed in the brewery, which is locked up tight at night. Longhouses in the brewery's front yard are home to the sixty commoners who comprise the brewery staff.

Northwest of the brewery is a natural spring that bubbles up to form a small lake. A river flows gently eastward, then northward, then eastward again, passing under two arching, moss-covered stone bridges before bleeding into the rice paddies. Frogs gather around the edge of the lake at night, filling the night air with a symphony of croaks.

Water-filled furrows nourish the rice paddies of Goldenfields. On warm days, workers in sandals wade through standing water and muck, tending the rice crop.

Dirt paths crisscross large tracts of land where carrots, onions, squash, tomatoes, potatoes, radishes, and other vegetables are grown. Workers till the gardens and tend the crops from dawn to dusk.

Nearly half of the tilled earth in Goldenfields is set aside for growing wheat. During the harvest season, the wheat fields are full of workers wielding scythes and carrying bushels of sheared wheat over their shoulders.

The road along the inside of Goldenfields' western wall detours around a pair of semicircular herb gardens. Stone cottages located nearby belong to a dozen druids who worship Chauntea. The druids not only grow the herbs but also roam the fields and gardens of Goldenfields, tending to sick plants.

Rows of orange trees populate the section of the Goldenfields compound that lies northwest of the wheat fields.

Many a bard has sung songs about Goldenfields' apple orchard; its old yet seemingly ageless trees yield thousands of baskets of tart apples every year. Much of the apple picking is performed by children, who climb the trees and gather the picked fruit in baskets, leaving them to be transported by adult workers. A grove of trees to the southeast of this area harbors a pair of young treants. Their job is to make sure no harm befalls the orchard.

By the end of summer, the stalks of Goldenfields corn are at least ten feet tall. After the harvest, the field is bare until it is tilled and new crops are planted in the spring.

About one-sixth of the barley grown in the compound goes into making Goldengulp. The rest of the harvest is shipped out to supply other settlements.

Hop plants, whose flowers are used in the making of beer, are grown here. The workers who tend the hops and the barley field live in a large house nearby.

This field produces some of the largest and firmest pumpkins found anywhere in the North. A large house overlooking the pumpkin patch houses workers who tend both the patch and the berry bushes that grow near the outer wall.[/sblock]
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Attack on Goldenfields

A mighty yell shatters the night's silence. "We're under attack!" the voice calls out. "To arms! To arms!" Gathering your wits and weapons, you stumble outside the inn. A low mist blankets the quiet gardens to the north and slinks between the rows of darkened longhouses to the south. A small figure stumbles around the corner of the nearest longhouse, loses his balance, and falls. You have never seen such a clumsy, disheveled halfling.

Everyone is in the middle of the Northfurrow's End Inn operated by Miros Xelbrin. The proprietor of the inn is an elder member of the Fellowship of Innkeepers guild of Waterdeep and, as such, must operate within the strictures of his guild. His name is Miros Xelbrin (see appendix D), and he's a retired carnival attraction-dubbed "the Yeti" during his heyday because of his barrel-shaped body and the thick, white hair covering his arms, chest, back, and head.

Miros is a staunch supporter of the Emerald Enclave and offers free room and board to members of the organization and their companions. His rooms are spacious and comfortable, his food plentiful and delicious (made with only the freshest ingredients). He has little tolerance for rabble-rousers and can spot adventurers from a mile away. Miros employs a staff of twenty cleaners and servers. He sells a local brand of beer called Golden gulp, though the first flagon to a new customer is always free.

In the back of Northfurrow's End is a pottery kiln that Miros uses to make the inn's trademark flagons. These large, varnished clay mugs have sheaves of golden wheat painted on their sides. Miros doesn't sell these minor works of art, but the mugs are occasionally stolen and sold elsewhere.

One of the patrons of Northfurrow's End at present is a visitor from Waterdeep. That city's Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors has an agreement with the abbot. Every midwinter, the guild sends one of its members to Goldenfields as a sign of its commitment to protecting Waterdeep's interests. The wizard serves for one year and acts as a liaison between the city and the abbot, while also aiding in the defense of Golden fields. The guild's current attache is Naxene Drathkala, a quiet and bookish young woman who lives in a lavishly furnished suite above the inn's stable house and spends most of her time writing papers on subjects both arcane and esoteric. In addition to being a member of the Watchful Order, Naxene is an agent of the Lords' Alliance and a loyal spy for Lady Laeral Silverhand of Waterdeep. Miros has tried to court Naxene, but she ignores his halting advances.

Among the other guests of Northfurrow's End are numerous actors, musicians, acrobats, and other performers from Waterdeep and Daggerford. These spirited folk entertain locals during afternoon picnics in the town circle (area G6). A halfling singer and lute player named Oren Yogilvy is the only permanent resident of the inn among them. He has a fondness for Goldengulp and gets free room and board for keeping the residents of Goldenfields entertained. After a few drinks, Oren likes to wander the compound in search of inspiration and often wakes up in a field the morning after. Not tonight.

While wandering towards town (area G6) Oren Yogilvy spotted an entire armed group of ogres, bugbears, and goblins. He yelled out and ran towards the inn, drawing both the attention of the residents and the invaders.
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OOC: Still technically waiting for two more characters, but here is the situation as it stands.

The halfling nearly trips as he runs screaming through the inn, an ogre at his heals. Everyone hears the commotion, and while many people duck under tables or stand still terrified, a few people at the inn are attentive and willing to fight to protect themselves and what is theirs.


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Euon rose from his bench table, alarmed. He grabbed his walking stick from where it had been laid to lean against the wall and quickly moved toward the inn's front door. He could hear Oren somewhere outside, causing a commotion. And then silence, which was more worrisome. Euon opened the door to get a better look. When he saw Oren lying prone in the courtyard with a host of foes hot on his heels, Euon's eyes bugged. He darted forward to try dragging the halfing back inside the inn.

OOC: Move to O20, open door.
Action: Dash to O22, start dragging Oren toward the door.


Euon pulls miles towards the doors, now open. He gets a better look at the coming horde.

Seven characters still have actions.


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Steve Gorak

Oren Yogilvy

It had been a long time since Oren had run this fast. He was hoping this wasn't going to be the last time. An army of brutes had suddently woken him from his morning haze, and he cursed them because the shock had made him forget the song he had composed the night before. And it was a good one!

He had, by reflex, come back to Northfurrow's End. This was after all his home, and there were a few burly types he had spotted that could perhaps protect him. If his luck held.

Screaming as he came, he could barely voice anything the made sense, and then he fell. He was sure this would be the end, and the ogre was much faster than he was. He felt a tug, and realized he was being dragged by one of the inn's patrons he had seen the night before: "the...the Abbey is under attack...help!". His panting prevented anything other than screams. Coming back to his senses, he stood and stumbled back as far as possible.

OOC: Actions: move back as far as possible. Not sure hoe the fall and dragging play

Davaros Silverfist

Davaros was ready to leave the inn. He had spent three days in Goldenfields, mostly on a whim: he had never seen trents, and he figured that this was as good an occasion as any. He had already paid for his stay at the inn, and was enjoying his last breakfast before heading out. He was thinking of where to go next, when a screaming halfling broke him away from his reverie.

Davaros looked at the diminutive person outside, and could clearly see that this was no joke. He looked out through the still open door and saw an orgre with other goblinoids. Indeed, this was going to be an interesting day. After carefully wiping his mouth clean of the remains of his breakfast, he picked up his gear, casually exited the door and stood next to the halfling and the man that went to help him. Focusing his mind, he invoked priestly magics to help him with the battle to come. He then say to the halfling and his benefactor: "companions, ready yourselves, it seems we're going to have a bar fight!"

OOC: move to N22
action: cast Wrathful_Smite

item interaction: draw two handed sword

Concentrating on Wrathful smite
HP: 44


OOC: Oren just has to get up from prone. Otherwise no penalties.

Davaros calls out to others and moves.

Maps will be updated tomorrow. Five characters still have actions.

Miros' eyes bugged. The ostler had kept Northfurrow's End a long time, and seen much, and he had no intention of yielding it now to rabble. Quickly, he felt beneath the counter for the heavy crossbow he'd secured there many years prior. "It's been a while, old girl, so here's hoping your joists haven't rotted." Once he pried the bow from beneath its rest under the counter, Miros grabbed a box of ten weighty crossbolts and began cranking the bow, sliding a bolt into place. He took a step forward, angled the crossbow on the bar counter, and took aim at the open doorway. "MOVE ASIDE, BOYS!" His voice boomed like thunder into the room.

Across the room, Euon continued to struggle with Oren. Euon looked up and blinked at Miros, surprised the aging ostler was so adroit.

OOC: Move: 5' to R14
Action: Load and ready action to fire heavy crossbow at first foe within sight and range. Ranged attack [roll0] for [roll1] damage.

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