Tokiwong's 3.5 Game: Chapter 1 (The Swarm)

[Tokiwong]

Forty Years ago on a cliff side on Mount Arthrof

The jagged peaks, framed a blood red skyline as the sun began to set in the west. The air was cold, a ghostly chill dancing over the ragged peaks like a raging specter. Four dwarves stood at the ready bloody axes in hand, and a single smaller figure sat on its knees trembling.

The dwarves bore scars, from a battle hard fought, and their long manes and beards billowed in the wind. They formed a semi-circle around the smaller figure. A spindly wretched greenish creature with a ruined face of fresh burns from a hot poker, gibbered with rage at its captors. A cruel testament to the justice that had it suffered at the hands of the dwarves, in retribution for the lives lost on the cruel cold mountain.

The leader of the dwarves places his axe on his shoulder and walked towards the gibbering goblin, “Well ye be killing the last of me people, ye green bastard.”

“End it now, this place is accursed, we must return to the hold and soon,” another dwarf shouted, clutching at a vicious side wound and breathing ragged breaths.

The leader of the dwarves nodded and stepped towards the creature, “I will make it swift ye wretched thing,” as he stood over the creature.

Suddenly it rushed forward slamming its head into the larger dwarf, causing him to stumble back. In a blind panic it rushed towards the edge and stumbled over into the inky blackness below. The rest of the dwarves rushed to the edge, and glanced over, but the goblin was gone off to his death.

The leader sighed, “He made his choice,” and quickly scrawled a not on a dry piece of parchment, “best be on our way, the iron mine will have to wait for another day.”

The rest of the dwarves agreed, and turned to return to the Dwarf Hold.

Somewhere in the deep darkness, a blinded goblin rose from a pool of water. His eyesight scarred by its captors, but it had done little to blind its need for vengeance. There would be a reckoning, and they would know his sorrow.

But that was then…

The present day… in the village of Green Hills

September 16th, in the 782nd year of the Empire

The village of Green Hills rested amidst a scene of rolling green hills that were littered with cattle and sheep. Shepherds and ranchers kept the creatures moving, and well-taken care of. The folk were simple but hardworking honest folk who enjoyed for the most part the country life, and the slower pace of living.

But as with most things such peace was only on the surface, and the concerns of the folk was directed at recent sightings of goblins in the region. Life on the frontier was dangerous enough without having to fear raids by evil humanoids, and their ilk. And any threat of such was taken quite seriously by the folk of Green Hills, who had suffered one too many raids by humanoids in the past.

The last encounter approximately two weeks ago, left one guard dead, and Sheriff Stone wounded. The people clamored for action, and Mayor Thorns put out a call to any who would be brave enough to venture south and seek out the goblin menace. He mustered as much gold as he could, but the paltry 170 gold pieces had not enticed any experienced mercenaries, and the Green Cloaks were stretched too thin to respond to the threat.

But the Mayor held out hope that someone would aid them before another raid took place, and another villager would be killed. He had nearly given up hope when young adventurers seeing the posters, came to the village to answer the call.

Those that have chosen to find a solution for the villagers have gathered in the Black Pig Inn, at the behest of the Mayor. He has even gone so far as to pay for your rooms for the evening, and give you surfeit food for the length of your stay. Now that all were gathered, it was time to finalize the deal, and fully explain the task before the adventurers.

OOC: Please give a brief introduction of your character as needed, and any events leading up to your arrival if you wish to describe and then we can get to the matter at hand!

 

[Hammerhead]

Kerrik's strides across the dirt road grew shorter and shorter, as the sun creeped lower and lower in the sky, appearing to be a beautiful reddish-orange glow. Wow, I guess I never noticed the beauty of the natural world before. The setting sun-what a poetic sight. I wonder why I never got out more before.

Oh yeah, it's because I'm dirty, my clothes are filthy, my food tastes horrible, some kind of bug is enjoying me as a meal, and my legs are exhausted. Who knew that adventuring involved so much damn walking? The stories never told anything about this. Kerrik then looked at his coin pouch, jingled it. Only 8 gold coins. I've never been so poor in my life. Oh well, I heard that the job might be worth over one hundred. It'll be a step to restoring my fortunes.

Moreover, it will give me experience, allowing me to increase my magical abilities. One day, I will prove to my pathetic family the weakness of their wizardly magic. I will gain power! Kerrik feels the temptation of indulging in manical laughter, but then, glancing around at his darkening surroundings, instead focuses his energy on doubling his stride. Have to hurry to Green Hills, before it's night. I wonder how much longer I have? By the love of Pelor, I'm tired as an elf who just actually did something useful.

Kerrik eventually stumbles into the Black Pig Inn early in the morning, brought to a bed by a concerned innkeeper, especially since he noticed Kerrik's signet ring. He sleeps most of the day, until it's time for the meeting. I wonder who my fellow mercenaries will be? As long they're not wizards, I'll be okay with them. I can make friends pretty easily.

Kerrik casts a few minor cantrips, cleaning his clothes until they seem new, wiping away dirt, sweat, and Vecna-knows-whatelse and replacing that odor his body radiated with something far more pleasant. He then walks downstairs, smiling, and sets his spear in a corner.

Kerrik is a young, good-looking man with of medium heigh with a light build. His brown hair is immaculately styled in the latest fashion, and his eyes are bright green. He orders some beef stew, tastes it gingerly, shrugs, and starts digging in, giving some to a ferret sitting on his shoulder as well.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Bjorn Alfson

Bjorn Alfson had worked till midday at the temple. He now stood within the 8 standing stones that his predecessor Fastial An’dranth had erected for the site of the church of Corellon of the Crescent Moon. The Elven church had been his home now for just about 2 years and the Elven community of Greenhills was only just now beginning to accept the Half Elf as their new Religious leader. The hard granite stones looked imposing to Bjorn yet this is where he was meant to be. He placed the alter cloth on the alter stone and finished the service. The elves had become very interested in his sermons lately as he mixed both Human and Elven stories into his services and they liked the comparing and contrasting of the two worlds.
Once the ceremony finished and the congregation started to depart, his friend Elios came to him and started speaking about the adventurers having arrived at the Black Pig.
“You should go with them.” Elios said, “You know they will need guidance and a healer. Besides don’t you want a break from all of this church nonsense?”
Bjorn looked at his friend and set his jaw firm. “How can you call my calling nonsense? You of all people should understand my need to serve. You are after all the dedicated minstrel I have ever seen, aren’t all of your kind supposed to be vagabonds and scallywags?” Bjorn rose up to his full height of 6’ and towered over the elfin bard. Bjorn was imposing to many elves he had a humans body with Elven eyes and pointed ears. And the color of those features was also striking. Pale golden blond hair cascading down to mid back, a full beard cut short framed his Lavender eyes. These were signs of having the blood of the Faerie and a Half Elf with these marking was rare indeed.
Bjorn shooed his friend away and packed his belongings. He dressed in his traveling priests robes and his traditional blue cloak that signifies he is a cleric of Corellon and set off for the Black Pig Inn.
There really was no question of if he would go. Bjorn had prayed for guidance and seen the sign of the Black Pig in his dreams. He entered the Pig just after sundown and found the Adventurers had already arrived.

 

[semmarin]

Drakor’s journey to the southern village of Green Hills was due to be a long one, but their peril and call for adventurers was the first news he’d heard during his time in Vanguard Keep of people needing a champion. He aligned himself with some merchants in need of a guard that were going to be traveling near Green Hills and set off on his way. Many long days later the merchants dropped him at the road leading to Green Hills, telling him Green Hills was no more than a half days journey down the road. Drakor thanked the merchants kindly and set off on his way down the road.

When Drakor arrived in the village just before dusk he noticed nothing different from this village compared to the dozen others he had seen while traveling as a greenhorn under the tutelage of his uncle. Drakor wearily found his way to the Black Pig Inn after asking directions from a couple of local citizens.

Drakor stomped into the tavern his braided black hair and beard having quite a bit of dirt in them and bellied up to the bar asking the bartender for the stoutest mead in stock. He drank the frothy liquid from the stein in one gulp and slammed it back down on the bar hollering at the bartender “Gimme another” as he licked the remnants of the mead from the corners of his mouth “and point me to the inn keeper I be needed quarters for the night.”

 

[ferretguy]

Jason sipped his ale as he sat in the corner booth in the Black Pig Inn. Thinking back over these last few weeks, and the recent changes in his life made him grimace from more then just the warming ale. Just last month he and his best friend, Ivan, had found out about a merchant aquiring a rare diamond and jade studded statue (small of course) of some forgotten god, that he was keeping at his house instead of his well guarded shop in the merchant district. Of course the only one he happened to discuss this with was during the throes of passion with his mistress, who just happend to be Jasons' sister....
Well this trinket could lead to great riches for the 2 (after his sisters cut of course), so they kept on eye on the merchant and when he left for an expensive dinner with his wife, they made their move for the goods. Breaking into the house was easy, but it did take a little while before they found the gem encrusted statue. As they were making their way out, they noticed that there was a comotion in the street. Peeking out they noticed a somewhat large contingent of guards heading twords the house, realizing there must have been an alarm of some sort, they made their way out of the house through a back window, where luckily no guards had gotten to yet. Unfortunatly, Ivans luck was not to hold, as he was making his way out (he was following Jason) he was spotted by some rookie guard who raise the word of the 2, and with this distraction, he slipped from the 3rd storie window falling and landing at a bad angle (breaking his neck) to make matters worse he had the statue with him.
Jason was seen clearly by the guard, and fled quickly from the scene.
Getting out of town as word was spread about the attempted robbery took a lot of bribery and a good amount of favors as it turned out this merchant had taken a supreme dislike to the idea of being robbed (and also figured only 1 person could of talked of this and had her severly beaten by his burly bodyguards...)
Now stuck in a backwards village,with only a handfull of change left in his purse he realizes the possible only way to survive is to "adventure". Oh Well, could be worse, at least there is good money in it....and I won't be arrested for doing a job for the Mayor... He orders another cold ale and awaits with these newcomers for more information on the upcoming job.

Jason is an average looking male human, with light brown hair, that doesn't look like its ever seen a comb. He is very slim (couldn't weigh more then 120# and is 5'5") with green eyes that never seem to stay still

 

[MeepoTheMighty]

A figure in a black hooded cloak steps into the bar, his eyes nervously surveying the room. Beneath the shadows of his hood, only a large hooked nose can be seen. He slowly pushes the hood off his head, eliciting a few gasps from some of the ruder patrons. The man's flesh is covered in scabs and wrinkles, speaking of horrible burns from long ago. His black, beady eyes dart around, inspecting the patrons, giving a surly glare to those who acted the most outraged at his appearance. His hair is wild and unruly, standing up in a thousand different directions and dripping with grease. The sloping forehead, large tusks, and overall bestial appearance single this man out as a half-orc.

In his arms, the half-orc carries a heavy steel shaft. One end of the weapon is a deadly pick, sharp enough to split the sturdiest stone. The other end is a massive hammer, balanced perfectly for cracking rocks - or skulls. He walks nervously towards the bartender and leans his large weapon against the bar. He fishes two silver coins out of his purse and slaps them down on the bar. Leaning to the bartender, he begins to speak in the tongue of the gnomes. "Ayne mal velshara..." He looks around and remembers that he's among humans, and begins again in halting Common.

"I mean...I hear word of goblins in these hills. I'll give you one of these for an ale, and the other one for information."

 

[Tokiwong]

Jalban

The halfling bartender grins slightly and replies in gnomish, “Aye, we have a bit of a pest problem in this area with goblins. Had a raid by some of the wretched creatures on our sheep two weeks back. But if you want to know more, you best be waiting around for Sheriff Stone and the Mayor.”

The halfling bartender gives a curt smile and hands the half-orc a pint of ale.

That Morning

In the morning, Mayor Thorns enters the establishment. A tall man with broad shoulders, and a stout build he carries a copy of the summons, and takes a seat after making a quick announcement that any who are not here for the summons should leave.

The inn clears out slowly, and those that seem reluctant give one look to the half-orc female sitting in the corner, and leave. She moves to the door and steps outside, blocking the doorway and granting the lot of you some privacy.

Bander, the halfling innkeep, brings water and biscuits and places them on the table. Mayor Thorns scans the various adventurers, and gives a smile in greeting, “Thank you all for coming, I had thought that our summons would go unheeded. But I see that bravery still exists in these lands.”

“If I were a younger man, then I myself would try to resolve our dilemma but I fear that my wife, would beat me within an inch of my life if I got such an idea in my head,” he tried to lighten the mood before he sighed.

The main doors to the inn opened, and large fellow shorter then the mayor walked in. He had short hair, and a thin mustache, framing his pale face, and elfin looking eyes. His ears ended in a slight point, and a slight potbelly marred his somewhat thin frame. A longsword dangled at his hip, and he removed a wide brim hat from his head as he proceeded to the table. He spoke in a gruff coarse voice, “Morning Mayor.”

“Ahh Sheriff Stone, good morning to you as well, I was hoping you would show up,” he replied.

“Well let me get to it then. Recently goblins have been sighted in the region, and on two occasions our local constables have clashed with them,” the mayor spoke grimly.

“The second time, we lost a good man, and if it were not for the will of Pelor, I would have been left lame from the injuries I sustained. The goblins fled after we took two of their number, and they headed south. The people fear that they may be the advanced scouts of a larger force,” he said with some sarcasm.

“It is not unwarranted, in the last thirty years two different hordes of humanoids have descended into the valley from the south, and both times, have left much devastation in their wake. We simply must know if this is the case,” he sighed.

Sheriff Stone nodded, “Of course, then the task is simple 170 gold pieces to venture into the south, the most likely place for such creatures to hide would be Mount Arthrof, the locale is rife with many caves, and locations that may serve as a potential hiding spots. For placing yourself in harm’s way, you will receive the gold upon return and any thing you find is yours to keep.”

The Mayor nodded, “I hope you can agree the journey is about three days south, along a road that leads up the mountain. If there is a large force signs should not be hard to find. Goblins are crafty, but not so crafty as to hide signs of a large invasion force,” he replies.

The Sheriff nods, “I can agree, but the question now remains, do our fearless adventurers, concur.”

Notes

Knowledge Local roll for Jason came up with an 8, so he has not heard of this area or know anything about Mount Arthrof.

Knowledge Geography roll for Jalban is an 18. He knows that Mount Arthrof has a single pathway along the mountain, and that steering off that path can easily get an inexperienced traveler lost in its many twisting networks of natural paths and ravines. He knows that the mountain is flanked by the Goblin Rift to the north, and the Horned Chasm to the west.

 

[Tokiwong]

OOC: Make sure you have your weights listed on your sheet, and Jalban you just spent two gold coins, how much money do you have left, please post that on your sheet, and anyone else who forgot to list their gold. Getting back to the basics people

 

[semmarin]

Drakor stands excitedly knocking his chair back into the table behind him. “Aye, if this fair town needs some evil beasties killed then I’m in.” He looks at the rest of the adventurers waiting for their answers.

 

[Tokiwong]

Drakor stands excitedly knocking his chair back into the table behind him. “Aye, if this fair town needs some evil beasties killed then I’m in.” He looks at the rest of the adventurers waiting for their answers.

Sheriff Stone grins, "I like the enthusiasm, Moradin has sent us a fine hero to aid our paltry cause."

The Mayor nods, "Thank you kind sir, I admire your bravery," he says to Drakor, "perhaps if we could have your name so we may honor you properly."