D&D 5E One Shot #3: Lady of the Mist


Lady of the Mist
by Peter Aberg


Althon Escandor is a name feared by all in the barony of Thirsk. He is both the head of the baron's council and chief of the Secret Police. As strangers to Thirsk you have had a couple encounters with the self-important men of the Secret Police and even once been brought before Althon. Your gut tells you that the man is corruptible, but you were let go with only a warning and you were even followed for a few days. It was a surprise to you when you read the bounty poster on the post and gathered with everyone else in town to here the decree...

"By standing order of the Council of Thirsk, Althon Escandor is here by branded traitor to the crown and her people. A standing reward of 5,000 gold loins is to be rewarded to the person or persons who can bring the former councilman and adviser before this body for justice. He is believed to be headed to Lefoth to sell his knowledge of our defenses and weaknesses to our rivals. Make haste and may the Gods watch over you all."

Then a stranger offers to give you information about Althon's whereabouts for only a small share of the reward. Agreeing to hear him out you follow and introduce yourself to the others whom seem interested in making some coin.

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Lailieri rises from the stream, clean and refreshed. She spreads a dry blanket to lie down on and dry in the morning sunlight. After a little while she sits up and combs out her hair before getting dressed. She is on the outskirts of Thrisk and wonders what she will find there. Walking into town, she spots a temple not far away. She plans to stop there at some point and see what she might learn of the religion of the area. But before she can get very far she hears a town crier has gathered a small crowd. He declares a bounty on a person of note. Most of the crowd disperses but a few seem interested in seeking the bounty. Another figure says he has information that might help the small remaining group help find the traitor. She steps among the group, wearing simple clothes and heavy robe, a backpack which does not seem full of much of anything beyond a bedroll, and holding a plain long quaterstaff, the wood elf says, "Treachery is an affront to all of civilization. What is this information you have?"


Round 0

Ivar trudged along the back alleys of Thrisk, trying to stay in the shadows, squinting against the too bright sun of the damn surface world. It wasn’t his first time on the surface, but he still tended to hate it up here.

It had been another fruitless night of searching for Zuleyka Xor’larrin, the runaway daughter of the famous drow noble house of Menzobarranzan. Ivar was beginning to rue taking on this damn bounty. It was getting him nowhere, and costing him much coin.

A commotion out in the town square drew Ivar’s attention. He pulled the dark hood of his cloak down low to shield his eyes a bit more and hide his grey-skinned features, only his white beard poking out as he approached the crowd.

Ivar studied the wanted poster. Well, that was certainly a turn. Ivar hadn’t liked Escandor after meeting him following a run in with his secret police, though it had turned out more an inconvenience than an impediment. But that was quite a bit of reward money, and someone was offering information for a small portion of the reward.

Ivar joined the small group that was volunteering, noting the robed wood elf giving the sanctimonious speech. “Do-gooders,” the duergar muttered under his breath. “I’m here for the coin,” he told their informant as he rested his hand on the handaxes in his belt. His dagger was there, as well, and a war pick on his back.

Bonus Action:

AC: 14
HP: 15/15 HD: 1/1d12+3
Rage: 2/2/LR



Bilkar Gnome Druid

Bilkar Had traveled to Thrisk for a ceremony in the forest near here, a seasonal celebration and an induction into the circle of shepherds. being this close to a town he decided to try once more to get rid of the helmet he'd found that he was sure was something cursed or demonic. He was ready to show this cursed helmet to yet another merchant when the town crier got his attention just before removing it from the bag he kept it in.

Turning and focusing on the words shouted over the crowd he was aware of his heart pounding, he raised a hand to examine it briefly, a slight shake, but not glowing. Large groups of "civilized folks" always made him nervous, town centers even more so. At least there was no damned fountain.

Escandor... Familier but why. Yes that is it. The dog with the limp said Escandor kicked the dog with the limp. Enemies. Enemies make war. War makes fire, more people looking for food, building fortresses. Bilkar can not have war." The Gnomes mind races.

As the crowd thins he dodges in between people in order to get to the front, getting distracted once and stopping to remove a twig from his hair that he saw out of the corner of his eye.

He does his best to compose himself and act like one of these towns people as he approaches, long strides, chest out head up. In a way it makes him feel dirty. He nods as he addresses the stranger offering assistance. "Bilkar help."

Then he notices the wood elf and feels almost giddy, smiling from ear to ear, looking but trying not to be seen looking at the elf, like some young boy seeing a famous knight for the first time. He'd heard stories about them, but the only one Bilkar had ever met was in the ceremony earlier in the week, Falmar and Falmar was AMAZING, much nicer than the Drow he had met. Please be in Bilkars new pack. he repeats in his head several times as if trying to think it into reality.

If there is a roll or anything you want me to do to have created the healing potion during my down time please let me know otherwise I will put it into my inventory


Ryder woke, marveling at the world. The sunlight cascading through the window and landing on his face. The soft sound of birds tweeting outside. The sleeping form of a half elven woman, her arm still draped across his chest. Her human husband standing beside the bed, a war hammer in his hand.

Oh, dear

An hour later, the lithe half elf could be seen walking nonchalantly out of the man’s house as his two new friends inside continued laughing at some story he’d told. He walked down the street, passing an apple cart. He walked up, winking at the girl selling the apples.

“You know,” he said to her with a smile as he picked up an apple. “One of these days, my silver tongue won’t be able to get me out of trouble.” He leaned in close to her, conspiratorially. “But it is not this day.” He tossed her a copper he’d taken from the house he’d just left, and ate the apple on his way down the street.

When he heard the decree to find a wanted man, he jingled his pouch of gold, deciding if the risks were worth it.

Who was he kidding? The risks were always worth it.


the magical equivalent to the number zero
Mister Bubbles stands dressed in his fine clothes and fancy tophat which he thought of as his Baron Yurt Samedy identity. The large half-orc stands proudly in the crowd as he listens to the proclamation. He cannot suppress a smile as he hears the insufferable Escandor's name being dragged through the mud; Mister Bubbles is convinced the man is as rotten as they come.

He's run into the head of the so-called secret police before, but there was no evidence to convict the half-orc. Indeed, there was no evidence because Mister Bubbles had only been gathering information at that point, and had not broken any laws... yet. He needed to be sure his intended victims were guilty of abusing their power, the mighty using their money and influence to destroy innocent people's lives. It seems someone had discovered such proof about the Escandor fellow in his stead.

It seems someone noticed Mister Bubbles' glee, because a whisper offers him more information to find the traitor. Intrigued, Mister Bubbles follows the stranger, not worried about his safety as he was not someone people tended to pick fights with.

Looking over the others gathered around the informant, Mister Bubbles sees a strange gnome creature picking one of several twigs out of his hair, a frail-looking elf woman, a charismatic half-elf man, and a hooded dwarf. No nobles by the look of it, and the half-orc is not sure if he should introduce himself as the Baron or as himself. He hesitates, then decides to withhold his name for the moment.

"What's this information you can provide," he asks instead, "And why would you not keep it to yourself and collect the bounty in full?"


The stables are warm and smell of hay and horses. Hanin the stableman brushes down one of the roans as he tells the gathered group what he knows.

"I was helping foal a colt four nights ago when Althon and a couple of his men came into the stables and mounted up. I didn't wish to get involved as this was the chief of the Secret Police himself and I wanted no trouble, so I let it go."

Moving to a stand and putting the brush down he hefts a feed bag and moves to fasten it to the waiting horse. "Today the council proclaimed that Althon was headed north towards the mountains and Lefoth, but I heard them mention Avenia as they saddled their horses. Avenia is a small fishing village on the Lake of Steam, south of here. I'm not brave enough to go looking for Althon myself reward or no, but you folk have the look of the adventurin' type. When I saw you I got the ideal that maybe if I help you claim the reward, that you might be willing to give me a small cut for my help."

OOC: Hanin is willing to lend you horses and give directions to the village.


“My friend,” Ryder says, clapping the man on the shoulder, a wide smile on his face, “Your courage knows no bounds, and the story you tell is one for the ages. For sure, people will be singing your praises for days and days to come. I will take your horse and follow your advice. And should there be treasure to be found, you can rest assured you will know it!”

Ryder picks his horse and mounts, looking around to see who will join him.

Voidrunner's Codex

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