The Last Flight of the Dragonhawk
Our tale begins with the wreckage of the Dragonhawk, an airship formerly belonging to the Dragonmarked houses' cooperative academy based out of Aundair, and presently belonging to the barren, rocky floor of the Demon Wastes. The academy to which it belongs - one of the greatest scientific hubs on Khorvaire, the institute of the Twelve - launched the Dragonhawk not from their Aundarian institute, but from a Q'barran port in the "capital city" of Newthrone, destined for the Frostfell.
The Dragonhawk's stated mission was simple: deliver an unspecified shipment of supplies and resources to a field research center on Frostfell, and return expeditiously. On board were any number of House magewrights, scientists, and laborers. Also on board were several noteworthy passengers of the adventuring sort...
Xzot - As luck would have it (awful, terrible luck, as it turns out), more than one of your identities are that of House agents. When you caught wind of the exotic Frostfell mission, your curiosity compelled you to fast-talk, shapechange, and otherwise "Xzot" your way into a seat on the Dragonhawk expedition. Before the onset of the journey, you were approached by a number of interested parties, looking for work on board the airship. Bemused and delighted to immerse yourself in the role of House agent, you cheerfully "hired on" a number of interesting characters from the Q'barran city of Newthrone, including a warforged prophet and - of all things - a rare breed of dark-skinned dwarf called a duergar. Fascinating!
Until disaster struck, the journey was fantastic. Even apart from the "extra help" you hired on, there were so many interesting people on board - House nobility, Cannith warforged laborers, researchers and scholars, and even a stowaway (how cliche!). The little sneak, an oddly-likable goblin - gave himself away on the first day of the expedition. House laborers were deciding whether or not to throw him overboard when you, in full disguise, announced:
"He's with me."
You were making friends already! Everything was going according to plan before the disaster struck. Though you could do nothing to stop it, it was your quick thinking that got yourself and the goblin - whose hilariously unlikely name is, you have since learned, Nark Snarky - to the life rings just in time to cheat death.
Nark Snarky - Considered "quirky" even by goblin standards, you've been travelling ever since you realized - long ago - that Darguun was too small for you. The only time you ever felt at home in Darguun was when, as a child, you would train with the houndmasters, or perform labor for the barghests and worgs.
No one believed you when you insisted that you could speak to the goblin dogs, the warhounds, and the dire wolves that the barghests and worgs would subjugate. No one believed you when you said that you'd made it into the first three chambers of the Seven Caves, and spoken with the spirits there. And no one expected you to come back, when you set off into the wilderness to make your own way. Their expectations proved justified, because you never did return. Since then, it's been you and Lony against the world. A goblin and his dog, seeing what there is to see and doing what there is to do in the big, wide world outside of Darguun.
You've travelled quite far in your short life. Some places have been good, and some places have been not-good. Some have treated you well, and some have treated you not-well-at-all. Your current adventure is surely the grandest yet. Stowed away on a big flying ship with Lony and making friends with an important-seeming, fancy-talking human. You even got to see dragons! (At least you think they were dragons.) Yes, you're having a grand old time, and the fun is just beginning!
Ormak Kron - Thrane has been your home, for as long as you can remember. You were born in the town of Olath, on the outskirts of the Burnt Wood. Having months ago incurred the wrath of a nasty Silver Flame inquisitor, a dark-hearted human man by the name of Charlon Censel, you'd been laying low prior to your recent journey. Inquisitor Censel seems to want to single-handedly reinstate the old inquisition which all but seared the changelings, shifters, and full-blooded shapechangers out of Thrane in ages not long past.
Tired of being singled out, threatened, and intimidated in your own home, you signed on as a laborer when the Dragonhawk stopped at Angwar Keep, south of Olath, to resupply. Likely, you fully intend to retrn home soon. You're not running from Censel; you may, however, be running from the urge to give in to the hardness that the inquisitor has instilled in your heart. Succumbing to the urge to put the church-sanctioned thug in his place with violence would be a bad idea. A dangerously bad idea. Recognizing this, you decided to put a little distance between yourself and Thrane, for a time. Besides, the pay was good, and you've always wanted to travel. Your enthusiasm was dampened, however, when your bunk-mate turned out to be a warforged prophet, blessed of the Silver Flame...
And yet, when the Dragonhawk went down, it was "Flametouched" the oracle who acted selflessly to guide the both of you to the life rings, quite possibly saving your life.
Flametouched - Weary of being dismissed time and time again by the "true and proper" clergy of the Church of the Silver Flame, you've been travelling for a while now. Your latest venture to the frontier city of Newthrone, in Q'barra, has given way to an even more exiting opportunity. Expecting only to see a little more of the world and to help out on board the Dragonhawk, your real task is clear now. Your vessel might have gone down anywhere, but it landed - of all places - in the Demon Wastes... and you think you know why.
The Flame has guided you here, and not just to save the life of one doubting shifter. You have long believed that to hold the Silver Flame up as a "god" is, while perhaps not an incorrect idea, is an incomplete one. The Silver Flame is nothing so banal as a mere deity which sits in a cathedral in Thrane, speaking to Thranish evangelists in dreams. The Flame burns in everyone. You have heard tales - tales that you wholeheartedly believe - of clans and tribes of humans and orcs who live in the desolate Wastes, living and breathing the way of the Silver Flame. Though they've never laid eyes on, or even heard of, the Cathedral of the Flame, or the big, silvery bonfire that burns there, the Flame nonetheless burns in them. If only you could meet them, it could answer so many questions... offer so much validation to your beliefs...
Lothar Noson - You've never belonged anywhere. Your kind is all but unheard of on the continent of Khorvaire, and those who do know you for what you are tend to make a lot of terrible assumptions about your character. You've pieced together a little information so far...
Your people, the duergar, are the remnants of a lost dwarven clan whose name you've never been able to learn. Long, long ago, your clan was swallowed up by the earth, and the very existence of your kind on Khorvaire is considered by most to be a myth. It is your belief that a dwarven expedition made contact with the subterranian ruins of the duergar civilization, and that the raiders - unwilling to kill an infant - brought you into the dazzling "topside" sunlight as a curiosity. You were raised in a monestary within the Mror Holds, trained with the bow and crossbow, and introduced to unarmed fighting styles. Your brothers, sisters, and mentors were a mix of dwarven and orcish, with a smattering of human. Not knowing better, you simply assumed that dwarves and orcs would get along outside of the monestary just as well as they got along inside of it.
You were wrong, and it cost you. On your first week outside of the monestary, having graduated and moved on to learn what you could about your origins and your kin, you encounterd an orcish warband in the peaks. It was the first time you killed. The orcs were savage fighters, and battled to the death. You killed every last one in self-defense - twelve lives taken - and never returned to the Mror Holds, afterwards.
You've heard that exotic dwarven clans dwell in faraway places, like Sarlona, and the Frostfell. It is for this reason that you found yourself on board the Dragonhawk on the day of it's last flight.
The Dragonhawk expedition never made it to Frostfell, or even off of Khorvaire. As the airship was passing over the notoriously inhospitable Demon Wastes, the Dragonhawk came under attack by a trio of tremendous, winged reptiles - one blue, one a brassy or bronze color, and one a deep red. The enormous monsters assaulted the Dragonhawk and burned to a crisp the Deneith crew tasked with the airship's defense - shouting in their own tongue all the while.
The five escaped on life rings, magical safeguards capable of bringing free-falling escapees to the ground as slowly and as softly as a feather. It's worth noting that while the enormous monsters took no particular care to mind your safety, none of the officials on board the airship were allowed to survive. With the exception of you five, none of your fellow travellers made it to the ground. House nobles and guild laborers alike were snatched up or burned to a crisp as they rode their own life rings toward the ground.
For one terrifying moment, Xzot was sure that he was about to be incenerated, but the brassy-scaled beast that nearly fried him held his breath, seeming to see through Xzot's disguise at the last minute. And Xzot could swear he saw the monster smirk...
The heavy airship fell much faster than the life rings did, and you five watched in awe as she ship, it's elemental engine dissolved, crashed to the ground. It was a long moment after impact before something even more incredible happened. A green-scaled beast - a winged reptile, like his rescuers - erupted from the wreckage, injured and manacled, but alive. The Dragonhawk's cargo was a captive dragon!
As his rescuers tore his chains and manacles free, the green-scaled monster glared up at the five of you. Before your feet touched the ground, however, all four creatures had taken wing, flying southeast.
The dragons have not yet disappeared from the horizion, and it is here, touching down and picking through the wreckage, that we begin our game...
I'd like everyone who has at least one rank to make Knowledge checks for arcana, nobility, engineering, nature, and geography. I'd also like to know what everyone is doing after touching down.
After everyone posts at least once, I'll move us along, and as a group, you'll decide what your next move is.
EDIT: Who speaks Draconic? Anyone who hasn't selected languages, please select them now.
EDIT: The time is about 4:00 PM. Lothar Noson is dazzled by the sunlight.
The whole time while they were slowly decending Nark was rolling around and cackling maniacally. Never has he seen such a beautiful... well, firework and nice looking dragons. Aah.. dragons! That what Dragon is or at least I think so but dragon!
Lony watching his master with pitiful eye yawns and strechtes his body while looking at the dragons with suspicious eyes.
Upon landing Nark gets off and looks around for some other people but soon rushes towards wreckege and thinking of the treasures he might find there, while taking occasional look around. Lony follows after his master and someone might notice how it <sighes> at the back of its master
KN:Nature 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
-1 point from riding-> +1 to language and took Dragonic
After touching down, Lothar squints at the dragons disappearing in the distance. The sun is well past its zenieth, so the eastly direction that they have taken is not as difficult a to look at as the west, where too bright sun still hangs. Pulling himself out of the life ring, begins to rummage in his pack and after a moment, pulls out a pair of smoked goggles, which he puts on I do not think they do anything for light sensitivity mechanically, but it made sense for him to have them . Reshouldering his pack and picking up his bow, Lothar shrugs and goes to help his fellow survivors.
Nark, you touch down on a barren expanse of red-tinted earth and stone.
A Knowledge (nature) 14 doesn't net much information about the Wastes, but you do know that finding water will be a serious problem out here.
Fortunately, everyone spotted a shanty-style settlement to the Northeast of here, on the way down. It couldn't be more than six miles off (which means that the dwellers there are undoubtedly aware of the crash).
Hustling to the wreckage, you begin to search for "treasures." Make a Perception check.
Lony keeps watch while you sift.
A picture of treasure or treasures in his head Nark goes through the wreckege in hope to find some new toys or stuff to play with
Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
EDIT: My god! His perception to surroundings sucks @§§ but when it comes to finding treasures he definetely is not a druid
Jumping up from the sudden voice and turning to see... a short man talking to him I don kno. Iz zee a lot of ztuff on ground and hope to get zome. Mabbe zome uzeful for me. What you are? Neve see a maan like you. You are not a huuman for zure Nark ask curiously while focusing again on looking "treasures", trusting Lony to watch his back
Lothar, the wolf watches you both warily and wearily, and positions itself between you and the single-minded goblin. It's expression is that of a longsuffering companion. It's a face that says "here we go again. Can you believe this?"
Nark, the only immediately-apparent surviving treasure (unless you like broken junk - which you may!) are a pair of enormous manacles constructed of some dark-colored metal, apparently sundered by an equally-tough weapon or tool. It would be, you think, entirely possible for a smith or magewright of sufficient skill to repair them, however. They feel quite heavy, and are quite large.
Anyone inspecting the manacles may make an Appraise check.
In addition to the manacles and the ruined junk, the wreckage is littered with the burned-and-crushed corpses of the recently-dead. Most of the equipment the staff and passengers were carrying is completely destroyed.
Yup Yup. Go aahed. Lony, the non-huuman iz ookey. Nark speaks as he looks at the junk stuff with interest and test them out with his little dagger while muttering to himself tiz iz baad... tiz iz baad... ooh, klonk voice, tiz iz guud with happy voice and start to drag the big manacles out of the wreckage mooney, mooney, looky guud
Little bit further away from wreckage with the large manacles Nark begin to examine them and soon the dwarf can heard a voice again calling him Yuu kno how much tiz cost? Lookz to be guud mooney. Meanwhile Lony watches this whole episode going on and decide to find cover nearby. He for sure will not be carrying that stuff out
As the goblin and his wolf move away dragging their prize with them, Lothar moved in and began his own search of bodies and the wreckage, looking for anything that might be of use.
perception 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
maybe somebody else is alive, and I will not have to keep talking to the goblin. I can barely understand him, and he seems kind of crazy. I wonder if a wolf skin would help protect me from the sun...
|Xzot aka Lady Jenise|
The entire episode had rattled Xzot. Assassins in the night, muggers on the streets, even drunk politicians were all things he could deal with, a smile on his/her face. Dragons were not something he had experience with.
Landing safely he spies the gnome and duergar sifting throught he wreckage of the ship. Taking a moment to tie her hair from her face, Lady Jenise walks towards the duo. "My traveling companions, and I hope friends, I'm glad to see the two of you have also survived the crash. One expects to see many things on these journeys, but a quartet of dragons. I can say I'm glad to survive such, and hope it to be my last. How goes your own search for survivors, if that is indeed what you are doing?"
Knowledge (Geography): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
I do not speak Draconic.
The human female who hired him as a and payrolled the expedition appeared while Lothar was still searching.
Survivors or sumpin useful. The only surviors I 'ave seen so far is you n me n that goblin wit the big dog. Still looking to see ifin I can find anythin of use in the wreakage.
Xzot, a 22 Knowledge (geography) isn't enough to know the name of the town you spied on the way down. However, it is enough to know that the fastest way to leave the wastes would be to breach the Icehorn Mountains, to the southeast, and enter the Eldeen Reaches.
The closest scrap of civilization from there would be the town of Merylsward.
Just southwest of your location is the Labyrinth: a network of ravines and chasms that mar the length of the Demon Wastes. They are rumored to be more populated than any other place in the Wastes.
Native outsiders do not abound in the wastes (though they are present), and manifest zones to all manner of extraplanar places are common, here.
Less than fifty miles to the northeast of the settlement six miles off is the ruined "demon city" of Ashtakala, an artefact from the Age of Demons. Every student of geography and history knows it's location, but to travel there would likely be suicidally dangerous if the rumors of it's haunting are to be believed.
A 26 Knowledge (nature) tells you that water will become awfully hard to come by out here in the Wastes, and food will be difficult to grow. Your best bet for food and supplies would be the shanty settlement to the northeast.
The Demon Wastes are just that - wastes - and the chances of encountering any real life out here is pretty slim. The only creatures that might thrive in the wastes would be creatures of the extraplanar sort (rare as they are, even here).
Lothar, you spy nothing intact in the wreckage (least of all, people). What little the dragons did not break or burn, the high-speed impact of the crash has destroyed. That said, there is plenty of wood and scrap. You think it would be not at all difficult to find or construct a stationary shade from the dizzying sunlight.
Lothar turns to the Lady Jenise. "Lady I am not fond of this much light. Until something turns up that needs shot or need something else done, I will be sitting here out of the sun until it goes down. Assuming you still want me in your employ."
Lothar goes to the lean to and sit down out of the sun, yet it is obvious he is still alert.
@ Xzot: Since they're rolled in secret per the description of the skill, I'll made a Disguise check for you (but see below). Anyone who would like to try and make a Perception check against Xzot's disguise should feel free to post one (or PM one to me in secret, if you prefer).
Xzot, let me know if you'd prefer to "take 10" on disguise checks made during "downtime" or "off-camera," or if you'd prefer for me to roll them in secret. By my understanding, you can't take a 20 since the skill has a penalty for failure (being recognized/spotted).
Survi.sur... aargh! Too har´fo me huuman! I juz looki for zom treasure I can uze or take. Dead people are dead, Nark iz breathing. Biig differenz lik with thoz dragons who kille´ all otherz Nark stated practically, not caring so much about dead people. You are alive so you better stay alive. Stupid people die, smart people live. Simple
I Nark. That wolf iz Lony. He iz mah companion and looking at the dwarf with killing intent and if you non-huuman call mah companion dog next time, I will crack your skull as Nark shake his fist at the dwarf
Sitting in the shack of his wreckage lean to and idly twirling an arrow through his fingers, Lothar grunts in response to the loudmouth goblin. No offense goblin. Does your wolf like to play fetch. He can go and fetch the arrow. He fits the arrow to the string but does not draw. He seems to be trying to make a friendly overture but it comes off as slightly insulting and patronizing.
Lothar, you notice nothing unusual about Lady Jenise, though you wonder what she might know about the motivation behind the draconic attack. In fact, even stranger is the fact that she seems to be the only noble or House-affiliated person to survive the encounter.
With the exception of your fellow survivors, those still floating down or dusting themselves off, and the goblin and his wolf, all have exactly one thing in common: they've no House affiliations.
Granted, you know rather little about the Houses and even less about politics, growing up in a monestary in the Holds. There's probably a perfectly good reason, and with the dragons gone, the solution to that particular mystery isn't likely to matter.
Haah! You are funny. Fetch... Lazt time huuman tried play fetch wit Lony, Lony fetched! He brought me the head of huuman. It waz a nice play. as he begin cackle maniacly
Looking at the woman and thinking his brains out You the woman who zay me with her! A good thing. You zaved the the zhip from burning... but it burned anyway hehehe. Waz not me but dragons... they ztill not zo guud as Lony.
Nark Snarky thank you for the help earlier. Nark iz not indepted to you but Nark repay favor back to huuman
Peception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Before the crash
Ormak avoided most of the crew, especially any humans. He was here to work, not pick fights as much as he would have liked to. He spent most of his time deckside, as being cooped up inside drove him nuts. He also slept outside as often as possible, and if he had to sleep in his room, he made sure it was only for a few hours then back outside.
He avoided the Flame infused Warforged as much as possible, as it represented two things he hated most: The Silver Flame and affronts to nature.
I'll post the rest after I get home
|Xzot aka Lady Jenise|
I'd say take 10 on Disguise checks, less dice rolling is easier.
Lady Jenise follows Lothar while the goblin continues digging. "I would definitely wish to keep your employ, Master Noson. As far as the light, traveling would be rather unbearable with it beating down upon us, though I must say a nice bath and a bed would be preferable. I do believe we might find both in that town I saw as we came down. I'm sure a little sunlight wouldn't hurt while we make our way to it? After finishing a check for more survivors of course. How is that little goblin doing anyway?"
|Xzot aka Lady Jenise|
Just an FYI, I slightly misread the initial post (what I get for reading from my phone on break), so if some of what I typed seems odd, that's why. Attempting to fix now.
"Quite good then, Master Noson, your service is exemplary, truly a valuable asset. If you wish to prepare yourself for the journey ahead, I'll see to attending to the young goblin and his wolf and see if he would like to accompany us as well." Lady Jenise takes her leave of Lothar and heads over to Nark, wary of his wolf. "Master Snarky, I hope your search goes well. I don't suppose you've found anyone else in the wreckage? It seems the dragons were quite thorough, only a few of us managed to land safely it appears. Master Noson and myself are planning to journey to a nearby town. Would you and Lony care to join us?"
After the crash
Ormak lands hard, and is briefly knocked out. When he comes to, three other passengers are already up and talking. He slowly sits up, rubbing his head to ease the pain. As it subsides, he looks around "By the Great Mother that was some kind of ride! But ow did it hurt!" He stands up stiffly, taking note of the land and sniffs the air. 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8 Knowledge(Nature) and 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21 Perception(General, not to see through Xzot)[/dice]
Wow, you guys really went at it. Well, let's get up to speed here.
Flametouched finds that its life ring deposited it some distance from both the wreckage and - as it turned out - the few survivors of the crash. As soon as the warforged touches ground, it tosses aside the expended ring and rushes across the broken plain toward the burning debris. When it arrives, it find as motley a crew as one might have ever expected to encounter - though it is pleased to spot Lady Jenise, as she was largely responsible for its presence onboard the Dragonhawk. Quickly, the 'forged approaches the others. "Good souls," it rumbles, "are any of you hurt? Have you found anyone else who might be?"
Flametouched lacks all of the relevant Knowledges, so I won't bother making any of those rolls. I'd also assume that if it hasn't seen through Xzot's disguise by now, it isn't likely to. Perception check, to search through the wreckage: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12.
Lothar leaves the pleasent shelter of the shade and follows behind his employer who quite frankly talks to much. He notises a hairy human who apears to be moving. Look m'Lady, it apears there is anothe survivor. Maye he will be easier to understand than that Goblin and we can leave the Goblin behind. I would sugest that if we are going to take our leave, that we do so as soon as possible. Loathar makes his way over to the newest survivor. Are you going to live? I hope so, because there is little I can do for you if not.
|Xzot aka Lady Jenise|
Jenise welcomes the shifter, whom she remembers seeing on the ship. "Greetings fellow survivor. My name is Jenise, a pleasure to make such an acquaintence, even under these circumstances. I'm glad to see another survivor. A well as you, Flametouched. Quite good to see you are still functional." Having exchanged pleasantries, she continues. "As far as I can tell, we're in the Demon Wastes at present. Not the greatest of news, but..." She looks over the wreckage, "...it could have been worse.
"I saw a small town we could travel to, find a hot meal and a good bed to sleep in, I would hope. If we cannot hire a ship out of here, we might be in for some travel. Recalling from my lessons, the best way out would be to head southeast, to the Eldeen Reaches, though we'd have to get over the Icehorn Mountains to do so. There should be a town not too far from there. Narky has been doing some salvaging for us, but I'm not sure what he's come up with yet. Shall we take a last look around before setting off?" She gives the impression that the decision has been made.
@ Ormak and Flametouched: You notice nothing significant with those rolls.
@ Everyone: It looks like everyone is agreed to do something. What's the plan? It seems like we're looking around, then heading off?
But to where? The village? Straight into the mountains? Food and water would be an issue on a long journey.
|Xzot aka Lady Jenise|
"Without food or water, we have little chance to all safely cross the mountains," Flametouched notes, carefully trying not to emphasize its lack of requirements along such lines. Resigned to the truth that there are no other survivors to be found, the warforged murmurs a quiet benediction for the souls of the lost, then looks back to the others. "We should stay together, and do what we can to find supplies before we attempt such a crossing. I recommend trying to reach the nearby village you saw, Lady Jenise." Flametouched seems content to let the House agent take the lead for now.
Ormak's eyes light up at the mention of the Reaches. "I would very much like to go to the Eldeen Reaches. I have heard many stories about the mighty Druids and powerful Rangers who make their home there, as well as tales of a wise, ancient treant who serves as some sort of mentor to many of those who revere nature."
|Xzot aka Lady Jenise|
damn, just out for a night and already a lot of post to catch on and xzot, ps: got already an answer to you before. look up
Nark hears the comment of the dwarf and decides to let it go. Ignorant one... and can not speak so well haah!
Listening Lady Jenise speaking Nark head tilts little bit left and the little goblin seems to think about it Yaah, Iz tink tat I and Lony will come. More huumanz, lez dangerouz creaturez
Nark will prefer to be at front from others with Lony
Nark Perception1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Lony Perception1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13