haiiro
First Post
Welcome to the Selgaunt campaign Story Hour! Updates will be frequent, it's set in a modified version of the Forgotten Realms, and I'd love to hear your feedback on the story. 
The Road South
The party's attempts to stay undercover ended the moment they stepped out of Vars' wagon and found everyone staring at them. Behind them was the Dalesouth path, leading back to their training ground in Tasseldale. Ahead, the last leg of Rauthavyr's Road -- with Selgaunt at it's terminus. All around them was the dust and noise of dozens of people passing through the small and squalid town of Essiar, the closest settlement to the north of Selgaunt.
Their journey up to that point had been by wagon. Specifically, a cramped and strange-smelling wagon that belonged to an amiable spice merchant, Vars. He spoke of only one thing of consequence on the entire trip from Essiar: a recent spate of bandit attacks around Selgaunt and the River Arkhen. As a result, our merry band was alert, but not terribly worried -- they were seven in number, and only a long day's walk separated them from Selgaunt's gates.
Bidding farewell to Vars, they began marching southward.
The road was busy at this time of year -- and all the more so because of Rook's Night, which had provided them with a cover story thus far. Among the items that their principal contact within the Harpers, Agrafion, had given them was a small cage that contained four ravens. As people from all over Sembia travelled to Selgaunt to celebrate Rook's Night -- an annual festival commemorating the nation's most illustrious bird, the raven -- a few more would hardly stand out.
Unless, of course, those few were these seven peculiar individuals.
Here is what the average Sembian passerby -- a farmer returning from Selgaunt with his mule, or a trader heading there on a laden wagon, perhaps -- might have noticed about them, in approximately chronological order. There was a silver-haired elf, clad in an outlandish iridescent outfit bedecked with jingling bells. Oh! And look -- a worshipper of Torm in gleaming banded mail, whose mild-mannered expression belied the fact that he looked as though he had stepped out of a stained glass window. Next to him was the most striking woman they'd ever seen, who clanked sleekly along in heavy plate shot through with enamelwork flowers -- and also looked like she might have emerged from churchglass.
Her radiant beauty was matched only by the blazing good looks and natural charm of another elven companion, who idly strummed a lute and took in the scenery with glittering eyes. The next two folks might have looked a bit out of place, but to a keen observer one's twitching gait and the other's fluid, loping stride would have made them equally hard to miss. The latter looked like a strange collision between a swashbuckler and a barbarian, while the former appeared to be the product of a ruffian and a meaner ruffian -- unarmed, but appearing fully capable of uprooting trees with his bare hands. As these two were content to remain quiet, it was the silken voice of the final figure -- not his size or garb -- which drew the viewer's notice. Moving in and out through the group as they walked, this attractive gnome projected a certain something that made passing farmers think it might be wise to have their prettiest daughters move to the back of the wagon, out of sight.
Next to most of the other travelers on Rauthavyr's Road, this bunch stood out like a gold coin in a purse full of coppers. Quickly realizing this, the party began to work on a new and somewhat more elaborate cover story. They would need to be able to move about Selgaunt without exposing themselves as Harpers -- which would be a dangerous thing to do, given the way most Sembians felt about Those Who Harp. The Harper who had trained them, the thistle-haired Agrafion, had tasked them with pursuing the Harper cause and code in Selgaunt -- and given them their first mission.
The last Harper to pass through Selgaunt, a woman by the name of Allekar, was able to secure an excellent contact within the city: Thissiken of Dracon Row. The majority of what the Harpers knew about Selgaunt came to Allekar through Thissiken, and he had been an invaluable resource thus far. Before the party started their journey from Tasseldale, Agrafion received word by from Thissiken by feather token that his life was in danger -- and that he needed their help. Agrafion dispatched his newly trained recruits -- our charismatic party -- without delay.
As the party walked down the road in conversation, they quickly arrived at the notion of hiding in plain sight. This motley band was going to stand out anywhere, so why not deflect questions by standing out as much as possible? In short order, they became Tuggle's Follies -- a troupe of traveling entertainers accompanied by their manager, porter and guards.
With their legitimate musical talents, Cupric and Jaehn fell into the role of the principal entertainers. They were backed up by Artemis, whose tumbling talents were adaptable to the stage. Armed and heavily armored, Tal and De'lea became the guards. Strong, unarmed and possessing no talent whatsoever for entertainment, Vicktor was relegated to the role of porter. Lastly, Tuggle's prodigious charm made him the natural leader -- the manager and face man for Tuggle's Follies.
Once they'd settled on this course of action, the Follies wasted no time spreading the word -- to be precise, spreading it to each and every person they passed on the road. Amidst strumming and singing, they announced to anyone who would listen -- which was, not to put too fine a point on it, everyone -- that they would be performing in Selgaunt. Cupric at last remembered a Rook's Night song he had been trying to recall, and its merry chorus of "Ca-caw! Ca-caw!" accompanied many of their meetings with other travelers.
In this manner the Follies passed the time until dusk, when a thick fog began to set in. They were close enough to the Sea of Fallen Stars to smell the salt on the breeze, and Cupric noted that fog was a regular occurrence in Sembia at that time of year. Nonetheless, with visibility limited to hundred yards at most, the group formed up into a proper column and began actively scanning the terrain to either side of the road.
In the front was Cupric, who had ceased singing and instead scouted a little ways ahead of the rest of the party. Behind Cupric was Talishmere, the gleaming symbol of Torm on his breastplate beaded with moisture from the fog. De'lea brought up the rear, and the metallic noises of her enameled plate sounded strangely loud within the mist. In the middle of the column were Tuggle, Vicktor, Artemis and Jaehn. Jaehn's bells tinkled merrily, while Vicktor slouched quietly along next to him. Artemis kept a ready hand on the hilt of his rapier, and Tuggle walked near him off to one side, where the thicker patches of fog rose to his chest.
To be continued...
The Road South
The party's attempts to stay undercover ended the moment they stepped out of Vars' wagon and found everyone staring at them. Behind them was the Dalesouth path, leading back to their training ground in Tasseldale. Ahead, the last leg of Rauthavyr's Road -- with Selgaunt at it's terminus. All around them was the dust and noise of dozens of people passing through the small and squalid town of Essiar, the closest settlement to the north of Selgaunt.
Their journey up to that point had been by wagon. Specifically, a cramped and strange-smelling wagon that belonged to an amiable spice merchant, Vars. He spoke of only one thing of consequence on the entire trip from Essiar: a recent spate of bandit attacks around Selgaunt and the River Arkhen. As a result, our merry band was alert, but not terribly worried -- they were seven in number, and only a long day's walk separated them from Selgaunt's gates.
Bidding farewell to Vars, they began marching southward.
The road was busy at this time of year -- and all the more so because of Rook's Night, which had provided them with a cover story thus far. Among the items that their principal contact within the Harpers, Agrafion, had given them was a small cage that contained four ravens. As people from all over Sembia travelled to Selgaunt to celebrate Rook's Night -- an annual festival commemorating the nation's most illustrious bird, the raven -- a few more would hardly stand out.
Unless, of course, those few were these seven peculiar individuals.
Here is what the average Sembian passerby -- a farmer returning from Selgaunt with his mule, or a trader heading there on a laden wagon, perhaps -- might have noticed about them, in approximately chronological order. There was a silver-haired elf, clad in an outlandish iridescent outfit bedecked with jingling bells. Oh! And look -- a worshipper of Torm in gleaming banded mail, whose mild-mannered expression belied the fact that he looked as though he had stepped out of a stained glass window. Next to him was the most striking woman they'd ever seen, who clanked sleekly along in heavy plate shot through with enamelwork flowers -- and also looked like she might have emerged from churchglass.
Her radiant beauty was matched only by the blazing good looks and natural charm of another elven companion, who idly strummed a lute and took in the scenery with glittering eyes. The next two folks might have looked a bit out of place, but to a keen observer one's twitching gait and the other's fluid, loping stride would have made them equally hard to miss. The latter looked like a strange collision between a swashbuckler and a barbarian, while the former appeared to be the product of a ruffian and a meaner ruffian -- unarmed, but appearing fully capable of uprooting trees with his bare hands. As these two were content to remain quiet, it was the silken voice of the final figure -- not his size or garb -- which drew the viewer's notice. Moving in and out through the group as they walked, this attractive gnome projected a certain something that made passing farmers think it might be wise to have their prettiest daughters move to the back of the wagon, out of sight.
Next to most of the other travelers on Rauthavyr's Road, this bunch stood out like a gold coin in a purse full of coppers. Quickly realizing this, the party began to work on a new and somewhat more elaborate cover story. They would need to be able to move about Selgaunt without exposing themselves as Harpers -- which would be a dangerous thing to do, given the way most Sembians felt about Those Who Harp. The Harper who had trained them, the thistle-haired Agrafion, had tasked them with pursuing the Harper cause and code in Selgaunt -- and given them their first mission.
The last Harper to pass through Selgaunt, a woman by the name of Allekar, was able to secure an excellent contact within the city: Thissiken of Dracon Row. The majority of what the Harpers knew about Selgaunt came to Allekar through Thissiken, and he had been an invaluable resource thus far. Before the party started their journey from Tasseldale, Agrafion received word by from Thissiken by feather token that his life was in danger -- and that he needed their help. Agrafion dispatched his newly trained recruits -- our charismatic party -- without delay.
As the party walked down the road in conversation, they quickly arrived at the notion of hiding in plain sight. This motley band was going to stand out anywhere, so why not deflect questions by standing out as much as possible? In short order, they became Tuggle's Follies -- a troupe of traveling entertainers accompanied by their manager, porter and guards.
With their legitimate musical talents, Cupric and Jaehn fell into the role of the principal entertainers. They were backed up by Artemis, whose tumbling talents were adaptable to the stage. Armed and heavily armored, Tal and De'lea became the guards. Strong, unarmed and possessing no talent whatsoever for entertainment, Vicktor was relegated to the role of porter. Lastly, Tuggle's prodigious charm made him the natural leader -- the manager and face man for Tuggle's Follies.
Once they'd settled on this course of action, the Follies wasted no time spreading the word -- to be precise, spreading it to each and every person they passed on the road. Amidst strumming and singing, they announced to anyone who would listen -- which was, not to put too fine a point on it, everyone -- that they would be performing in Selgaunt. Cupric at last remembered a Rook's Night song he had been trying to recall, and its merry chorus of "Ca-caw! Ca-caw!" accompanied many of their meetings with other travelers.
In this manner the Follies passed the time until dusk, when a thick fog began to set in. They were close enough to the Sea of Fallen Stars to smell the salt on the breeze, and Cupric noted that fog was a regular occurrence in Sembia at that time of year. Nonetheless, with visibility limited to hundred yards at most, the group formed up into a proper column and began actively scanning the terrain to either side of the road.
In the front was Cupric, who had ceased singing and instead scouted a little ways ahead of the rest of the party. Behind Cupric was Talishmere, the gleaming symbol of Torm on his breastplate beaded with moisture from the fog. De'lea brought up the rear, and the metallic noises of her enameled plate sounded strangely loud within the mist. In the middle of the column were Tuggle, Vicktor, Artemis and Jaehn. Jaehn's bells tinkled merrily, while Vicktor slouched quietly along next to him. Artemis kept a ready hand on the hilt of his rapier, and Tuggle walked near him off to one side, where the thicker patches of fog rose to his chest.
To be continued...
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