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The Fall of Plaguestone




The Beginning

Road to Almas
Late Afternoon

The caravan was traveling south by southeast from Elidir, the capital of Isger, to Almas, the capital of Andoran, on a road between the Apsodell Mountains and the Five Kings range. There were faster and easier routes south, but for those seeking to avoid Cheliax, this was the safest. The leader of the caravan was Bort Bargith, a dwarf trader from the Five Kings Mountains. As far as the party members could tell, he was welcome in many settlements they had visited so far for his fair prices and gregarious spirit, and he has been using this route for years. The caravan consisted of six covered wagons, four of which were laden with supplies, trade goods, and trinkets. Bort made his home in the lead wagon and the cabin built onto its back, while the final wagon was for passengers, like the party, and the cook.

It has been three days since the caravan left Elidir in the back of one of Bort Bargith’s wagons bound for the faraway Andoran capital of Almas. The smiling caravan master cut your travel cost to only a handful of coppers, so long as you promised to protect the wagons should any trouble arise. Fortunately, your journey through the hinterlands of Isger has been quiet, even if the ride itself has been far from comfortable.

As you broke camp this morning, Bort announced you should arrive at the town of Etran’s Folly by nightfall, and he promised a comfortable bed for the night as a reward for a long day’s travel. The caravan’s teamsters shared a chuckle between them, trading knowing glances and subtle nods, but soon enough you are on the road again, the wagon bouncing and creaking along the uneven trail.

This part of Isger was sparsely populated, consisting of small rural farms and isolated communities. It is a temperate land, with frequent light rains and the rich smell of damp earth wafting on the pleasant breeze. The trail winds its way through the lowlands, passing along streams and through small forests. The game in this area has only recently recovered after years of war drove it into hiding.

OOC: Let’s have some role play introducing your player characters. Feel free to ask questions of the NPCs in the caravan. Besides the player characters, there are the following caravan NPCs:

Bort Bargith - male dwarf merchant caravan leader
Cooky - old male elf cook
Glunda Grapeleaf - female gnome teamster
Olf and Ulf Redfren male human (Ulfen) teamsters, identical twins
Tamli Grent - female half-orc chief, caravan #2

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Sitting idly with her hands gripping the bench on either side of her and legs gently swinging back and forth, one then the other, Silvi looks the way the caravan has come, gaze lingering for a moment before a moment before giving her head a small shake and mouth widening into a similarly small but sheepish smile.

Today the gnome woman had opted to leave her hair unstyled which makes it easier to see the locks of autumn yellows and reds interspersed among the fiery orange mane hanging down past her jacket collar and narrow shoulders. It frames her ruddy face, home to two big, bright brown eyes, quite nicely. That jacket is sleeveless and leafy green, worn over a lavender shirt, and cinched with soft yellow leather belt, the same style as the bandolier strapped across her chest. And she wears blue trousers, though between her long coat and nearly knee high boots made of dark red leather little of them shows except when she is sitting, as now.

A moment later Silvi's smile widens further and she asks in her usual high pitched and cheery voice, "How about a song? There must be some good trail songs. How are the lot of you with singing?"

Charwoman Gene

"I've been told I have a good voice, not sure I know any good trail songs though. I know a good saga of 'Darius and the One-Eyed Blue', but that's a long one." Trevor has been quite talkative this whole time, dominating conversation, just short of real rudeness. He wears a mix of plate and other armors, worked into a dragon theme,and carries twin swords on his back. He's been very helpful, throwing in his arms when things needed unloading and loading. It's clear he comes from an aristocratic background from his voice but he seems to not be afraid of working.


"Alas, I've been warned from singing as a mercy to others. Though, I could teach you the words to a few marching songs. Many aren't suitable for polite company, but they do help to pass the time."

Galahad said from the road. As was his usual, he was walking along side the cart whenever he thought he might find some useful plant or stone. He'd left his pack stowed away in the wagon to lighten his load. But still wore his studded leather armor complete with buckler at all times while on the move. The half-elf also wore a rapier at his side and pair of bandoliers across his chest filled with potion vials and a portable alchemy set.

This last, he'd been seen to use to brew potions on the fly, usually as a treatment for a spider bite or for anyone who showed signs of sickness.
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Hiromi had been quiet most of the trip. She took a long time to warm up to strangers, but she was polite and kind. She wore a tight suit of leather armour, and it showed how slim she was. That and her way of moving gave away her former profession as a dancer - a fact she could not hide in spite of her desire to appear the seasoned adventurer.

She spoke up, somewhat annoyed when the teamsters chuckled, saying, "What is funny about it?"

When the gnome asked for a song, she was too shy to offer to sing one, in spite of having a beautiful singing voice. She had performed many songs in her childhood, as her mother dragged her from place to place, telling everyone how pretty she was and accepting coins for her performances, but she had been cruelly driven.

Hiromi would rather not sing for people she liked, and she rather liked the gnome, though they had barely spoken two words to each other.


Relaxed Intensity
Varen leans back in a wide stance as he sits, sword and scabbard situated between his legs. He seems extraordinarily relaxed and at ease. The part of his hair sits to the right of his face, unkempt but still in place. There is a wide smirk across his face. He seems positively Varisian.

Sitting relaxed in the wagon his manner seems completely different from when he first met the others. At a distance he bore the countenance of a professional soldier. His armor, a breastplate of Andoran design lined with a fur cloak, seemed extremely well polished. The same goes for sword and shield, both bearing marks of intricate Andoran craftsmanship. He seemed soft spoken, but his words had weight. In the caravan he seemed to leap to action whenever anything needed to get done and subtly urge others to do the same.

Now he seemed almost a different person, as if a veil had been lifted. "Songs. I know many songs. They are good for our spirits. They bring us together. I think I have just the one."

Letting his sword sit on the left side of his lap, Varen reaches into his pack and brings out a silver statuette in the likeness of Sarenrae, holding it in his right hand. "My lady will sing with me."

Varen starts singing in melodic Varisian a rousing song about beginning journeys and making new friends. As he reaches the first chorus he looks to others, Hiromi and Silvi in particular, and pauses. "Why don't you join me? I can teach you the verses. Songs are meant to be song together. We are friends non?"
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The face of the little gnome brightens and she rubs her hand together. "Yes, that is wonderful!" exclaims Silvi exuberantly. "I know so many travel songs already. It is exciting whenever I come across a new one!" Her hands reach upwards, one pulling on the collar of her shirt and the other tugging on a leather cord around her neck. "Collecting songs of the road, among others, is a bit of a hobby of mine, you see," she says with a mischievous grin. "Because I have some accompaniment of my own." A heavy looking silver amulet reveals itself, one inscribed with an exquisite butterfly motif - the symbol of Desna. She lets it hang on the outside of her clothes, at least for now.

Silvi catches on to the lyrics of Varen's tune naturally and with ease. And when her delicate sounding vocals rise alongside his they are in as close a harmony as she can manage.


Cooky and Lavina had become well-acquainted while on the trip, though whether they were friends depended on who told the story - Lavina was quite a fan of the cook, and the cook seemed to tolerate the halfling.

Currently she was sitting on the back of a caravan, eating one of the snacks they'd prepared together as one of the various halfling meal times that outsiders swore had to be half made up. The wind ruffled her curly chestnut hair as she sat and watched.

"Ah, I like this one." Lavina tapped her toes along with the beat. She was, despite being chubby, quite a dancer, but at the moment she seemed content to listen and sit still, one eye on the horizon.


Hiromi had been reluctant to sing only because she was reluctant to perform solo in front of people she wanted to get to know. She had also hoped to leave behind singing in front of strangers for money. But singing in a group together was another matter entirely. She happily joined in, learning the song well and improvising a little. She had seemed a little standoffish to the others before, but she quickly began to warm to her travelling companions, and with warmth, she began to open up.

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