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D&D 5E (IC) Scourge of Daggerford




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Scourge of Daggerford Chapter One: Daggerford

Tommi, Jyn's Boy

When Tommi got out of jail, the guard said "See you soon."

Within an hour, he was visiting his mom, arriving with a bag of groceries, but he soon popped off for an afternoon at the Daggerthrust Alehouse. He never unpacked the groceries, and his mom ended up eating alone that night, and so it was that by midnight, Tommi was at the Lady Luck Tavern, playing cards.

He wouldn't win a lot at first: small bets, appear to drink more than he did, friendly and easy and folding often. That was enough to get Stumpy to trust him. The dwarf's name wasn't stumpy, but Tommi couldn't pronounce Stompi correctly, or he chose not to be able to. Stumpy was the fish, and by dawn he was hooked; and by the end of the week, he had sold his armour and his axe, all to make that big bet that would win all he had lost back.

Which was when Tommi made his big finishing move, taking Stumpy (and the rest of the table) by surprise, winning all that had accumulated over a week of play. But the dwarf had a temper, and had increasingly taken to drinking too much. Words were had, and then fists. A table was turned, and soon there was a full-on brawl.

The proprietor, Glenys, laughed until things got out of hand, and then she sent for the constable, who arrived in time to see someone defenestrated. All involved were rounded up roughly, Tommi roughest of all, though he had not been involved in the worst of the fighting. They spent the night in lockup, and fined to pay for damages. As Tommi was one of the few with any money, he was fined the worst.

Destitute, and fingered as the instigator, the dwarf, Stompi, was sent to serve time as a rower on one of the trading longboats, and left Daggerford the following morning in disgrace. Unable to come up with any excuses to keep him, the constable, Sherlen Miller, who's mother was close friends with Tommi's mother, shook her head in disgust and returned his property to him.

"Go take care of your poor mother," she scolded her childhood sweetheart, and sent him out.

When Tommi left the jailhouse, the guard winked and said "See you soon."

GM: Tommi is surprised to find he is still up 15 gold pieces (in various coins and cheap gems)

OOC: Daggerford Places: The Lady Luck Tavern (area 17)
The Lady Luck Tavern is named after Tymora, goddess of Luck, and it has built its reputation around those who take risks. Inside, most of the first floor is dedicated to a taproom with second-floor seating on balconies all around it. At the center of this space stands a rough stone pillar upon which rests the roof. Iron rungs are set into the pillar so that individuals can climb and mark it with symbols or messages dedicated to those who have died in battle or disappeared on quests. The rest of the tavern is decorated with shields, weapons, and banners. Any toast given in the tavern must include a libation to “those who have fallen before us.”
During the caravan season, the tavern’s female human owner, Glenys, runs a roaring trade with clients consisting mainly of caravan guards and other travelers. Gambling occurs at all hours, with Glenys sponsoring a big game on most evenings. Winter proves a quieter time, when locals come for mulled wine and to play a few hands of cards, lanceboard, or other table games.
The local priest of Tymora, a halfling named Curran Corvalin spends most evenings here. He pays to fill Tymora’s Cup, a drink customarily set aside on the bar for Lady Luck, in case she decides to drop in.


Dandin Applebane

Dandin had cornered a local shepherd at the farmer's gate and had talked him down on all his fleeces. The man went away angry, and the halfling merchant was disappointed that he probably wouldn't be able to use this tactic again, but he led his donkey to market, and he set himself up selling the "finest fleece from the private stock of the Open Lord of Waterdeep".

At the high price he was asking for modest fleece, it took him awhile to find a buyer with a suitably dull-eye for wool, but he talked his product up with a sharp wit that the dubious eyes of the merchants at his neighbouring stalls turned to sparkles, laughter, and nods. Although well-known in the market, no-one could be quite sure that Dandin hadn't found a way to import Waterdhavian wool.

So after a few days, his neighbouring merchants confirmed to anyone who asked that Dandin had travelled all the way to Waterdeep for only the best wool, complicit in his tall tales. Buyers flocked to his cart, and Dandin moved fleece after mediocre fleece at easily three times what they were worth.

When his supply ran out, he packed up his cart, and took his little lockbox with him as he went into the Guildhall to pay his market fees. The long building behind the market was a foreboding hall of grey stone and old oak, but Dandin had wandered it's drafty halls for years. He paid his dues to a dour Merchants' Guild accountant, and sat in a small room with a desk, scale, and a hard oak stool, counting his earnings while singing to himself.

His voice carried down the echoing halls, and it made more than one hardworking guilds-man look up from his work and smile.

GM: Dandin is up 16 gold pieces in various coins and trade baubles

OOC: Places of Daggerford: The Markeplace and Guldmaster's Hall (Area 14)
The Guildmasters’ Hall near the marketplace serves as a library of guild records, the offices for guild leaders, and meeting halls for the guilds.The town’s charter allows for a council to control affairs in the duke’s stead, and for centuries, the town’s guild leaders have been a part of it. It surprises some newcomers that such a small community has guilds, but many guilds have only a handful of members. Some, such as the Watermens’ Guild, consist of a single business. As with the guilds of large cities, the guilds here regulate competition and set parameters for master-and-apprentice and worker-employer relationships. But the guilds of Daggerford feel more like families than mere associations.
The guilds include the Smiths, Merchants, Tanners, Farmers, Watermens, Rivermens, Taverners, Scriveners, Clothiers, and the Carpenters Guild. The guilds group together many associated occupations, so innkeepers are part of the Taverners’ Guild, and the
Scriveners’ Guild includes those who work at the Sword Coast Traders’ Bank. Many folk are members of more than one guild, such as the owner of the Otter’s Run, who is a taverner, a tanner (furrier), and a merchant.



Trista was old. She was nearly a hundred, and in the seven decades that had passed since she had taken the position and office of her mentor, Gwaereth (that of court wizard to the Dukes of Daggerford), she had never seen his creation move. In fact,in her old age she had nearly forgotten that it was a construct, and not yet another suit of armour like the many that decorated the Ducal Castle. But today, suddenly and without warning, it stepped off the platform on which it had rested for so many decades, (dusted by scores of maids) and nearly scared her to death.

This was no joke - the old woman's heart was not quite as strong as it had once been. She had just been busy in her work, preparing a draught for the duke that would ease his often troubled sleep, when the gleaming armour had marched with purpose across the floor of her laboratory and down the spiral staircase to the Duke's Library below. She had called out to it, but it hadn't responded.

Immediately the construct had searched the shelf for books on Thay, a nation far to the east, built on the back of slavery, ruled by the infamous Szass Tam and the schemes of his Red Wizards. There was little to find, but what there was the construct appeared to be rapidly memorising. It would get a book (the ladder creaking under it's weight), and flip through the pages, then slam the book shut and return it to the exact place it had been taken from.

A long-forgotten memory returned to Trista, of Gwaereth, sitting in his study speaking softly as if to a child, to the unattached head of this very construct as he had tinkered with it. Beyond bringing him some parts and supplies, Trista had not been involved, but she had kept many of her mentor's old notes. She returned to her laboratory slowly, as her knees were not as good on the stairs as they had once been. She found her keys, removed some smaller boxes, and opened an old chest. Inside were papers, yellowed and stained from the passage of time. Finding what she was looking for, she nodded and shut the chest.

Returning down the stairs, she found the construct had moved on to her personal shelf of magical tomes. (The current Duke rarely used the Library - but his sister did, and she allowed the old wizard to keep her own books within the library itself when her laboratory had become too cluttered.)

Proud of herself for having found the name that Gwaereth the Gray had given it, Trista called out to the contruct, "Enseth!"

The construct's obsession calmed to a profound interest, as it calculated that it could not act alone, and would have to find allies if it were to eventually complete it's mission.

GM: Enseth has memorised a brief history of Thay and finding that it holds a large undead population, has successfully stored the equivalent of a Scroll of Protection from Evil in your memory. It can be cast once.

OOC: Places of Daggerford: The Ducal Castle (Area 7)
The castle stands in the same spot as the founder's original wood fortification: on a hill overlooking the rest of the town. It was rebuilt in stone by the dwarven Ironeater clan when they came to Daggerford over a century ago. The dungeons that worm through the hill beneath it are even older. The ducal gate leads to the town and is usually open. Inside the castle courtyard are the duke’s private parade grounds, herb and fruit gardens, and the duke’s fortified manor. The castle’s larder is well stocked with preserved food, enough for a year’s siege. About fifty people live in the castle, including guards and servants. Trista the Shadowed, the venerable court wizard, has her laboratory and private chambers in the manor's attic.


Dandin chuckled to himself one last time as he dropped the coins, one at a time, into his pouch. He enjoyed the sound almost too much. Drawing the pouch shut he sauntered out into the waning light of the sun. Blinking he looked about the guild hall yard and spying his cart, walked over to it. "Well Hanar, we had ourselves a very good day. Lets go pay our dues at the shrine and then see about getting a bit of rest."

After doing a quick check onnthe cart, Dandin climbed up and took the reigns. It was a fairly short trip distance, but the route took them through the market and past the Caravan gate. At this time of day, there was always bound to be a certain amount of backup so Dandin sat back on the bench nd took his ease as well he. Could. Eventually, they were past the worst of the traffic, and shortly parked outside of the shrine to Tymora.

Squirrels are evil!
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Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
"Go take care of your poor mother," the constable had scolded him, and sent him out. They both smiled at each other.

"She misses you too, you know," he had responded.

When Tommi left the jailhouse, the guard winked and said "See you soon." Tommi ran his fingers through his hair as the morning sun hit him. He rubbed his teeth with his index finger, until he could find a mint leaf in someone's garden to fix his breath, and he headed towards the central well. The town council's new fountain was jammed again (something always ended up clogging those pipes), and so it was back to the same well that had been used since Daggerford had been founded, and this morning there were already a half dozen people, all women, queued up to fetch water.

Tommi buys himself a small bucket (5cp) and stands in line to fill it. He then brings the bucket to his mom's place, where he finds Jyn hard at work -- she will have begun working before dawn, when it was still quiet -- making a blanket.

He greets her with a kiss on the cheek, and she responds with "This is for Marigold." The arch of her eyebrow lets him know there's a story there, which begins as he covers the bucket in the pantry. It's a nice morning, and Tommi happily greets the regular array of visitors Jyn habitually receives, each paying court to a respected widow of the community.

Tommi sits through it all, one leg bouncing furiously in what appears to be impatience, but in fact is just excess energy. At one point he excuses himself, finds some soap and cleans himself up. In doing so, he's used half of the water he has brought.

When they are finally alone, Tommi says to her, "Ma?"


"Nothing. Look. I'll be back in a bit. Take care now." He kisses her again, and heads off down the road, to find a tavern. "Maybe I'll try the Happy Cow."


Lionel Hardcheese

"Lionel!" called his mother, Wilhelmina Hardcheese, "Is the mutton ready? Your sister is ready to take it up to Sir Isteval! Can't keep a Purple Knight waiting, dear!"

Lionel was on top of things. He quickly passed the perfectly cooked meat to his mother, who put it on the finest silver serving plate and passed it off to his sister, Hermione, who hustled up the stairs from the kitchen. His mother was short, even for a halfling, and she was nearly as wide as she was tall, but she made up for her stature with a personality to rival any ten taller folk. She was loud and hard-headed, but she was also generous and kind. She loved her son, but she had high expectations for him.

A few days later, she was at it again: "Lionel! she called, "Hammer Darrondar's tithe-box is stuck again! You don't want to anger Tempus do you? Let's keep wars away from Daggerford, shall we? That's a dear."

Lionel got out his small tools and made quick work of the bent lock. After giving a receipt to the dwarven priest who had come on behalf of the Table of the Sword, he deposited the money into the Hardcheese vault, hidden deep in their cellars, behind innocuous-looking (but smelly) cheese-ageing racks.

A few days later, "Lionel!" she said as they passed by a halfling selling trumped-up fleece at the market, "That poor fellow is going to be killed! What would your father say if we stood by and did nothing? You'd better help him!"

She drew his attention away from the wool-seller and to a human man who was struggling with a spirited horse. The animal reared and kicked as the man, standing in front, grabbed at the reins. It nearly cost him his head. Lionel rushed forward, and rolled under the animal as it turned toward him. He jumped up on a market stall's table and leaped into the saddle. The horse bucked once, but Lionel kept his seat. Speaking softly into the horses ear while gathering the reins, Lionel calmed the beast and returned it to it's grateful owner.

A few days later, "Lionel!" his mother called again. He came from the kitchen where he had been organising his spice-rack, expecting to find some task or another that needed immediate attention. His mother smiled and gave him a small bag of gold, "Why don't you take a few days off? You've had a busy week! Go out and enjoy yourself. Find a nice young woman!"

She winked and laughed, and his sister giggled.

GM: Lionel has a bag with 10gp, a loaf of cheesebread (in case he gets hungry) and a pretty brooch worth 10gp, in case he finds a girl and needs a gift for her.

OOC: Places of Daggerford: The Happy Cow Tavern (Area 15)
The Hardcheese family of strongheart halflings has run the Happy Cow Tavern, a homey alehouse, for generations. The drink is cheap, the pace is slow, and the talk is about farms and farming. The Hardcheeses run a large dairy operation and own various pieces of good farmland around Daggerford that they rent out to tenants. These farms provide the tavern with the cheeses that gave the halflings their family name and the other simple staples served at the Happy Cow. The Hardcheeses are well known for their generosity, and they are happy to lend money to folk they know. Their bar serves as a bank to most of the farmers of the region, much to the consternation of Lady Belinda Anteos of the Sword Coast Traders’ Bank.


Angis Honack

The stretches of wilderness between Daggerford and Waterdeep weren’t the most dangerous stretch of the Trade Way, but they still required caravan guards. Even though he was the regional head of the Honack family’s Golden Way Trade Consortium. Consisting of sponsored caravans, waystations, and costers along the trade routes from Kara Tur to Waterdeep, based in Westage, the end of the Golden Way, it formed a vast guild of merchants and traders stretching from the Savage North to Shou Lung.

And to Angis’ bane, he was charged with the northern reaches of the company, from Waterdeep to Baldur’s Gate, and stretching up to resurgent Neverwinter. There was even talk of tapping the scrimshaw trade from Icewind Dale, though that would mean negotiating with the Ships of Luskan.

Despite being the nominal head of the company in Waterdeep, Angis knew to leave such business dealings to those smarter and with a better grasp of money. He was a humble dwarf, and felt more at home living in Daggerford, just a few days’ travel from Waterdeep. Caravans needing guards passed through frequently enough that he had little trouble signing on for trips in both directions when he needed to check in with the Waterdeep offices.

This is where he preferred to spend his time, out in the wilderness, away from people. As the hours passed, he occasionally reached inside his chain shirt and pulled out a small oilskin package. Inside was a delicate pink handkerchief tied off with a silk ribbon and still holding the scent of a lady’s perfume. Inside was a lock of fine, red-gold hair. He usually only pulled it out at night. He inhaled the familiar perfume a moment before tucking it back inside where it would be safe.

Much of guard duty is simple, boring watchfulness, and this run proved no different. Occasionally there was a bout of mundane excitement, such as when a wagon got stuck in the muddy road and had to be pushed out. Thankfully on this run, there was no trouble. But that left listening to the Consortium’s steward in Waterdeep as he went over the business notes for the month and asked Angis for an evaluation of their plans for the next.

Angis had little real desire and knowledge of such things. He was merely doing his duty as the younger son. He gave a few vague comments and trusted the steward’s judgement in such matters. He wanted to be back in Daggerford, and so the next morning he set out and after a long journey, he strode into his rooms in the Silver Flood Inn. He took a wash before ending up at his favorite drinking spot, the Happy Cow Tavern.

GM: Angis' guard duty paid his personal pocket 12 gold pieces. There was actually surprisingly little activity along the road, in particular on the way back. (Thanks for writing the post! I don't really have anything to add at the moment.)

OOC: Places of Daggerford: Silver Flood Inn (Area 22)
The Silver Flood Inn was established during a short-lived silver rush in the Sword Hills a few decades ago. It maintains this atmosphere with mining tools as decorations and “silver” cutlery, cups, and plates in its small breakfast room (actually all pewter). The building has many small rooms suitable for one or two people, and during busy times the breakfast room doubles as a common room for sleepers at night.
The current innkeepers are two boisterous human Northlanders, Connar Filvarson and Ganfar Redgrin. Their arrival and acquiring of the inn is cause of considerable gossip. During a nightlong celebration, they and a handful of companions did so much damage to the inn that the militia mustered to arrest them. Their companions fled, but Connar and Ganfar instead offered to repay the previous innkeeper. Their drunken proposal was laughed at until they produced a rough-cut diamond as big as a halfling’s thumb. The duke struck a deal on behalf of the two parties, with the result that the previous innkeeper became a rich man, the duke got a beautiful new diamond ring, and the Northlanders became property owners.

River Song

Lionel Hardcheese

"Lionel!" reverberated through the kitchen for the hundredth time that day, it was only morning, and Lionel sighed as he put down the parsnips he was preparing for the lunchtime soup. What now? he thought to himself. The spices were ground and mixed, the pot ready for the slow simmering process and he had just reorganised his spice rack.

But as his mother bustled in she handed him coins, food and broach. "Why don't you take a few days off? You've had a busy week! Go out and enjoy yourself. Find a nice young woman!"

Lionels round face coloured, "MUM!"

"Thanks mum," he gives her round cheek an affectionate kiss. "I'll finish up preparing the parsnips for lunch. Now, not too much salt this time. Okay?"

With a mock glare at his sister he steps out of the tavern to enjoy some time off and almost walked into Tommi.

Subconsciously checking his belongings he smiles, "Hey Tommi, out already?"

[MENTION=23484]Kobold Stew[/MENTION] : is it OK for Lionel and Tommi to know each other with some degree of familiarity?



OOC: Generally locals know each other. It's all the people who come-and-go that are strangers. In fact, you know one of them, too. Angis is drinking here this afternoon, and tends to do so when he is in town. The Hardcheeses consider Angus a good customer, but they think of him as a caravan guard, and not a shipping scion. Your Mom won't begrudge you a few drinks in the Happy Cow before you head out on the town. In particular if you are with paying customers.
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