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Temple of Elemental Evil - Delving the depths of the Abyss on Golarian.

Game Master Tirion Jörðhár

The classic AD&D Temple of Elemental Evil - with a Pathfinder and Golarian twist.

Village of Hommlet - with building numbers <-- Legend in Campaign Info


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17 Arodus 4711

Glorfin:

Leaving Rolgrimmdur was not easy. Fortunately you found a small dwarven caravan heading east to trade with your brethren in Maheto. For the first few days as you all marched east out of the mountains, the voyage was uneventful. However, on the fifth day, as you were preparing to make camp, you spotted a dozen horsemen following you. Knowing that anything was possible, you group formed up prepared for the worse, as southern Galt frequently provides. Fortunately, as the horsemen approached, it turned out to be an elvish mage, his guards, and several elvish merchants. Although initially standoffish, after determining that neither group intended to initiate combat, the elves dismounted and asked whether they could join your camp for the night as numbers are always safer in lawless Galt. The leader of the dwarves after grumbling about elves and their flighty natures, agreed.

While sharing the evening meal, the elves informed you that bandit activity had increased to the west of the Verduran Fork and that the dwarves should take care crossing the plains between the Fog Peaks and the forest. Over the next week you crossed the hills to the south of the Fog Peaks and crossed the plains without incident, although on more than one occasion, you could see your group being watched and followed by horsemen. Fortunately they must have decided that a dozen armed dwarves was not worth the risk.

Two days ago, you crossed the Verduran Fork and joined up with the main road heading north and east along the river. At this time, your traveling companions bid you farewell as they continued east to Maheto, while you turned north following the road to Yanmass - the gateway to Casmaron.

To say that your trip has been longer and dustier than expected would be an understatement. With every step, you can hear the dust grind in your armor, and whenever you take a drink of water, you can taste the mud from the dust that has accumulated on your lips. The fields on either side of the river and road do not appear much better. While you are not by any means a farmer, the short stunted corn and wheat make it apparent that many may go hungry this winter.

At last, three days after parting from the other dwarves, you see the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they are but specs, but soon they grow in height and as you approach the city walls you also begin to see what appears to be a tent city outside of the city. You knew to expect this, Yanmass is the first point of entry into the Avistan, the place where huge caravans from Camaron cross north of the World’s Edge Mountains with exotic goods from lands to the east.

About a mile outside of the tent city, as you look behind yourself, you see a rather strange sight. Two halflings riding up the trail. While halflings on mounts is nothing unusual, the fact that one of them is using an elk as a steed does indeed cause your eyebrows to raise. Thus, you stop and step to the side of the road while watching the pair approach. When they pass you, you stoically acknowledge then with a nod of your head which they return with a wave before continuing on their way toward Yanmass.

Shaking your head in bewilderment at the rather strange pair, you then turn and continue your way into the city of tents. As you pass through the tent city, you see strange wagons and peoples. People wearing turbans and carrying strange curved blades. You even see huge wagons with sails atop, as though designed to sail across the land like a ship on the sea. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of walking through the tent city, you see the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inches closer to the horizon behind you. And inside the gate, your future. All you know from your companions and the elves you met is that your goal is an inn of less than perfect repute that is alleged to be a popular gathering point for adventurers and guards, and unfortunately those seeking to prey on the unwary. This is the Inn of the Spider Queen. While the elves spoke of it with disgust, like a dwarf would speak of an inn run by a duegar, they did say that if one were seeking those desiring adventure, it was the first place to go.

Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face - your beard will require far more than a little water to clean - you enter through the gates seeking the Inn of the Spider Queen.

Tybek:

After leaving Maheto and your less than reputable past behind you. You travelled north. First reaching the mountainous Faldamont, another small city with a sizable population of dwarves, but the dwarves in Faldamont, unlike Maheto with its fine craftsmen, were primarily miners. With little call for your skills, you once again turned to acquiring money and goods which were not yours. Resulting in you leaving the city in the wee hours of the morning via a high wall with the guard close behind.

After Faldamont, you continued north leaving the foothills of the World’s Edge Mountains and entering the broad plains of northern Taldor. With a continuous wind blowing from the thousands of miles of plains to the east in Casmaron, the sand and dust made travel by foot from farming village to farming village less than enjoyable. You had managed to pocket enough before leaving Faldamont that you did not need to resort to less than reputable means of getting food, however, you spent many long nights sleeping outside on the plains while listening the the distant howling of wolves and the other night sounds. Sounds which to a dwarf born and raised in a city like Maheto were strange and alien resulting in but a few hours of restless sleep each night. On one night you even heard a roar which you imagined to be a lion, causing you to hide is a dry stream bed for nearly a day before finally emerging to see that no lions were about.

Unlike the major trade routes to the east and southwest of Yanmass, the road you followed was not much more than a path. Fortunately, you were traveling across a part of Taldor still regularly patrolled by the Taldan Horse and, thus, managed to avoid the bandits and other threats you had heard much about in various taverns as you continued your slow trek north.

After several days of solemnly making your way north alone, fearing that you might die of thirst after having finished your last two wineskins the prior day and now having to subsist on the last half filled waterskin, you notice a lone traveller following you on the path. You continued your slow but steady dwarven pace, but it was soon apparent that this long legged traveller was faster than you and shortly before evening he caught you. You quickly noticed the symbol of Cayden, a tattered pewter mug, hanging around his neck. Open to any companionship, you struck up a conversation and eventually decided to make camp together.

During the evening meal, which was quite spartan due to neither of you being properly prepared for this journey, Arindale introduces himself and tells you that he is a priest of Cayden. At this point your smile grew several sizes, and might in fact have stretched you face far beyond its normal size. You then asked whether clerics of Cayden can in fact create mead from dust and receive as a confirmation a skin full of mead. Perhaps not the best mead in the world, but for being in the middle of nowhere, it tasted like heaven. That evening you consumed several more and have no recollection of what occurred, but remember awakening late the next morning when the sun was already well above the horizon.

After waking up late with a wicked headache, you again began the trek north, now accompanied by your new companion. Late that afternoon, you saw the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they were but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also begin to see what appears to be a tent city outside of the city. You knew to expect this, Yanmass is the first point of entry into the Avistan, the place where huge caravans from Camaron cross north of the World’s Edge Mountains with exotic goods from lands to the east.

As you passed through the tent city, you saw strange wagons and peoples. People wearing turbans and carrying strange curved blades. You even saw huge wagons with sails atop, as though designed to sail across the land like a ship on the sea. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of traversing the tent city, you saw the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon off to the west. And inside the gate, your future. You did not know what to expect, but after being run out of two cities due to acquiring things from others which they did not wish to relinquish, you knew that this is your last chance in Taldor. If you are caught stealing here, your choices are north across the Fog Peaks to chaotic Galt, west to Andoran, or east to mysterious Casmaron, none of which you wish to visit broke and covered in dust.

As you first entered the tent city, your new companion, Arindale, asks one of the guards where a cleric of Cayden and a dwarf can find a good drink. He told you that if you had any useful skills, you should seek out the Inn of the Spider Queen, not the most reputable of inns, but a place where those with the right talents and an interest in adventure could frequently be found gathering.

Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face - your beard will require far more than a little water to clean - you enter through the gates seeking the Inn of the Spider Queen.

Ranim:

While always considered the gifted one by your friends in the caravan, being stronger than all but the biggest men and with a personality that could charm even the grouchiest of people, you were also the most impulsive. When the caravan arrived in a new city or town, you would be the one to wander off and explore the taverns and libraries. You step-father and the others in the caravan never complained as you were good at taking care of yourself, and usually brought a whole stream of people back wishing to watch the performance.

However, in recent years, you have discovered that heat and cold do not bother you as they do others. During even the hottest of days in Taldor, you would hardly break into a sweat. As the caravan began to make its return trip north and west out of Taldor and back toward Cheliax and eventually Varisia, you decided to leave. The impetus for this was a story you had overheard after singing in a tavern as part of your usual pre-performance advertising. It was a story of riches and danger from far to the north of Taldor. While you did not hear much, you did learn that many years earlier some cult had caused great unrest after summoning and releasing elementals in this remote northern region of the country. The rather intoxicated man who was boasting of this claimed that somewhere up there assuredly lay a kings ransom of treasure, and to prove this, he raised his hand and showed the gaudiest bracelet you had ever seen. While his story sounded absurd - why would someone summon elementals and bury treasure in the middle of nowhere - you nonetheless impulsively decided to strike out and see if you could find this treasure.

Thus, the next day you found yourself singing to entertain the daughter of a noble who was traveling to her father’s estate near the city of Yanmass far to the north. The trip was to be by river barge which would take nearly two weeks to travel the distance up the Sellen River and then east along the Verduran Fork to Yanmass. The trip passed uneventfully other than a few stray arrows which were fired while passing through the forest, only to be met with return fire from the guards on the barge and the mage who was the young lady’s advisor and protector.

Two days before the expected arrival in Yanmass, the barge was forced to stop when the usually full Verduran Fork’s flow diminished to not much more than a stream. At this time, you bid the young lady farewell and decided to continue the last day or two to Yanmass by yourself on foot. While you had never heard of Yanmass before two weeks earlier, you had learned much about it from the guards on the barge. Thus, after a day of near solitude slowly walking next to the river, your path met with the trade route from Oppara and southern Taldor after which the traffic picked up, as did the dust caused by the extraordinary dry conditions in the area.

A day later, you finally began to see the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they are but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also began to see what appeared to be a tent city outside of the city. You knew to expect this, Yanmass is the first point of entry into the Avistan, the place where huge caravans from Camaron cross north of the World’s Edge Mountains with exotic goods from lands to the east.

About an hour before reaching the tent city, you heard the sound of hooves and the sudden bark of a dog behind you. Assuming that this was another caravan from the south, you tiredly stepped to the side to let them pass. As you did so, you were surprised to see not a caravan, but the unusual sight of two halflings, one astride an elk and the other riding a large hound. Even with your traveling experience, you do not recall ever seeing anyone riding an elk. Thus, you simply stood and watched as they approached. When they reached you, the one on the hound gave you a cheerful wave and wished you a good day as they passed. You returned the wave and then once again stepped back onto the road for the last few steps before you finally reached Yanmass.

As you passed through the tent city, you saw strange wagons and peoples. People wearing turbans and carrying strange curved blades. You even saw huge wagons with sails atop, as though designed to sail across the land like a ship on the sea. Finally, after nearly thirty minutes of walking through the tent city, you saw the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon behind you. And inside the gate, your future. You did not know what to expect, but had been told by the guards on the barge that those seeking adventure in the Fog Peaks and other less inhabited parts of Taldor frequently begin in a less than reputable inn known as the Inn of the Spider Queen.

Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face - your hair will require far more than a little water to clean - you entered through the gates seeking the Inn of the Spider Queen.

Arindale:

After leaving Oppara with a full keg of ale and a sturdy mount, at least that is what the old horse trader told you, you and your companions made your way north following along the western wall of the World’s Edge Mountains, seeking adventure where ever it could be found, which on the side of the mountains controlled by Taldor for three millennium were few. Your team managed to route a group of kobolds which provided for a good night in Maheto and a new keg of Maheto Dwarven Stout.

You then proceeded north to Faldamont where you heard rumors of a tribe of goblins which had apparently taken root in a old cave a few hours east of the city. Without a second though, you and your crew immediately set forth to dispatch of these vicious vermin. Having left late in the afternoon following a drinking bout, you found the sun rapidly setting to the west without and sign of the supposed goblins. Thus, you set up camp for the night.

As the healer for the party, you were assigned to the last watch in the morning. You were awakened about two hours before dawn by the party fighter, Marteen. Smiling and nodding, you took your watch. However, shortly after getting up, the prior day and nights beer caught up with you. While visiting a nearby tree, you heard the screams begin. More like cats being tortured than any intelligent creature was your best description. You quickly returned to see the party mage receive a dog slicer to the gut, the party fighter was already down and the rogue fighting a losing battle. Knowing that the twenty or more goblins were more than you could handle, you slunk back and hid in the bushes until the noises stopped.

When daylight finally broke, you crept back to see the carnage from the prior night. Searching the area, you managed to find some equipment scattered about, but the rest of your party were missing, and you assumed dead. The horses were also missing. Embarrassed and unwilling to return to Faldamont, you recalled that the parties goal was Yanmass, or something like that.

Thus, you turned north following the little travelled road from Faldamont to Yanmass, using the gifts given you by the Lucky Drunk to heal those in need, and in return being given food and drink, perhaps not the best, but enough to keep you alive. Also, while walking the long and lonely road north, you came to realize that alcohol was one of the root causes of your current situation. And while Cayden is the patron of those who drink, he is not the patron of those who die because of drink. Lying awake at night under the stars one night, you make a vow to never again allow the alcohol to control you. You may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but you at least came to realize that there was a time and place for drink, and on the trail in dangerous lands was neither the time nor the place.

After many days of travel, you lost count after two, or was it three, you came upon a lone dwarf also making his way north. Not having seen any other travelers on the desolate path for more than a day, you slowed down your pace and joined the slow but steady fellow. He told you his name was Tybek and that he too was heading north in search of a change and adventure. That evening, Tybek explained that he was parched and the little water remaining in his waterskin just did not do the job like some good dwarven stout. Smiling and forgetting your vow, you called upon the Lucky Drunk and produced a skin full of mead, perhaps not the quality of the dwarven drink Tybek sought, but from the smile on his face, you assume that it did the job.

After a having a skin full of mead yourself, you suddenly recalled your vow to yourself. Thus, you chose to instead consume water for the rest of the night. You could not say the same for your new dwarven friend. As you watched, Tybek continued to partake of your god’s blessings eventually becoming roaringly drunk and making strange proclamations about living in a clock tower and seeking some elemental spark or something to make a super clock. What exactly a clock is you never determined as Tybek then fell asleep drunk not awakening until well after sunrise the next morning.

Later the next day, you and Tybek finally saw the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they were but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also begin to saw what appeared to be a tent city outside of the city. Not really having an idea what Yanmass would be like, this city of tents was strange and foreign, as was the garb of many of the merchants and guards.

After walking through the tents for a while and staring at unusual clothes, the beautiful women, and the strange humped beasts being hitched to wagons, you stop and ask a man where a cleric of Cayden and a dwarf can find good drink. Laughing, the guard tells you to find the Inn of the Spider Queen.

After another thirty minutes of walking through, and occasionally getting lost in, the tent city brought you to the city gates, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon behind you. With your mouth parched from the dry dusty trail you had followed for several days, you hope this Spider Inn or Queen Inn or whatever it was, had good drink, but also recalled you vow to yourself.

Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face, you enter through the gates and began to look for the inn hoping your companion recalled what it was named.

Braden - Part 1:

After several years of self study with occasional training from a traveling wizard who would pass through your village about once a year, you finally decided to seek adventure. Although you had read about numerous exotic places, Jalmeray, Rahadoum, Varisia, you realized that you lacked the experience and funding to go to these places. Thus, you decided to seek your future closer to home. You left your village on the edge of the Verduran Forest and began to follow the edge of the forest north and east heading for Yanmass, gateway to the east, and the city where adventures into the northwestern corner of Taldor were rumored to begin.

Your travels began uneventfully, but after two days, you were attacked by three goblins while resting for your second breakfast. Fortunately you managed to make the ground so slick that the goblins all fell to the ground. You then quickly grabbed your backpack, jumped on your faithful hound and rode off into the morning sun (with you tail between your legs).

Two days later, still being much more careful watching where you took your meals, and also realizing that you may not have packed enough food to supply six meals a day for the entire trip to Yanmass, you spotted one of the strangest sights you had ever seen. Following behind you was not more goblins, not the Taldor Horse, but rather a very small person riding along on a elk stag. So bewildered were you that you completely forgot to jump on your faithful dog, instead you simply sat there and watched as the elk riding halfling approached.

(See combined background for continuation of this background).

Maegge - Part 1:

Having been forewarned that the Lumber Consortium was seeking you, you managed to mount your mighty elk steed and flee from the druid grove before any harm came to you or the druids. Unfortunately despite your best efforts, the Lumber Consortium trackers have followed you for several days. You have managed to keep just ahead of them seeing what you believe to be their trackers far behind on several occasions. On the morning of the third day, you finally exited the dark and comforting confines of the Verduran Forest and found yourself in the dry expanse of the plains of northern Taldor.

As the druids knew that you would be unable to return to the Verduran for some time due to the long memory of those in the Lumber Consortium, they asked you to investigate what was causing the unseasonably warm and dry summer in northern Taldor. You were unsure what the druids meant, but upon exiting the forest, you immediately sensed the unhealth that was before you. Dry and dusty ground with stunted or dead grass. Hardly enough for Gimpy, let alone the wildlife which should have been living on the plains.

Turning east, you began to ride as quickly as Gimpy could take you, pausing to rest only when necessary and using magic to enable Gimpy to carry you farther each day than would be expected from a normal elk, or horse. On the third day after leaving the Verduran, about midmorning several hours into your days travel and having not seen the trackers in well over a day, you saw in front of you what appeared to be another halfling with a large dog and a beautiful owl perched on his shoulder.

Hesitantly riding forward, you saw that it was indeed a single halfling just finishing up a midmorning meal. When you reached him, you dismounted and introduced yourself.

(See combined background to continuation).

Maegge & Braden - combined Part 2:

Maegge rode up to Braden on his majestic elk, looking like a halfling noble, if not for the twigs in his hair and general appearance of one who has spent many days living off the land without a shower or bath. Braden was unsure of who this strange woodsy looking halfling might be, but offered his hand and asked if the elk rider might want to join him in second breakfast. Having been on the trail for several hours already, Maegge agreed and soon the two were talking, Braden explaining his interest in magic and desire to adventure and see the world. Maegge being more reserved listened carefully before telling Braden that he is being followed and that they should continue east before the Lumber Consortium hunters caught up.

Thus, the two halflings, one riding a majestic elk and the other on his faithful hound, began to make their way east toward the Verduran Fork and distant Yanmass thereafter. As they proceeded, the dry and dusty trail did not improve, but fortunately, the spirits of nature had granted Maegge the ability to create water out of the dust, so both were able to drink when their mouthes become parched and provide their mounts with water when needed.

Two days later they crossed the Verduran Fork at the ford just north and east of where the river enters the forest and then turned to the northeast toward Yanmass. The travel was uneventful and you both discover many commonalities in that your skills are not those common among the halflings or gnomes you both grew up knowing while living in and near the great forest.

After another two days on the much busier north-south trade route from Oppara, you finally began to see the guard towers of Yanmass appear on the horizon. At first they were but specs, but soon they grew in height and as you approached the city walls you also began to see what appeared to be a tent city outside of the city. Not really having an idea what Yanmass would be like, this city of tents was strange and foreign, as were the garb of many of the merchants and guards.

A mile or two before reaching the outer ring of tents, you passed a lone woman walking north who greeted you with a wave and an accent which you believed to be Varisian, or at least not from the small woodland villages you both grew up in. Shortly thereafter, just before reaching the tents, you passed another lone traveler, this time a stout dwarf. When he turned to give you a stoic welcome common among dwarves, you saw that he was covered in dust from days on the road. However, his piercing blue eyes that almost appear to shine like a light from the heavens was what made him so memorable.

After walking through the tents for a while and staring at unusual clothes, the beautiful women, and the strange humped beasts being hitched to wagons, you stopped and asked a man where two tired travelers can get a good drink. With a laugh the man tells you to find the Inn of the Spider Queen where many travelers, and adventurers tend to congregate.

You then continued your ride through the tent city, a ride which gathered many stares as with all the various steeds and beasts of burden, few had likely ever seen an elk used as a mount. Alas, you finally saw the gates ahead, still standing open as the sun inched closer to the horizon behind you. With your mouthes parched from the dry dusty trail you had followed for several days, you hoped this inn had good drink.

Thus, after dipping your hand in a basin of water outside of the gate and wiping the dust and grime from your face, you enter through the gates and began to look for the Inn of the Spider Queen.

_____________________________

After being directed down several wrong streets and even one alley, you finally see ahead an old and worn sign waving in the light dust filled evening breeze. It is readily apparent that this is your goal as the sign has on it a rather poorly drawn picture of a spider with a crown perched upon its head at a rather odd angle. After looking at the sign and the building from which it hung, you proceed into the Inn. From outside, you can noticed that the inn is a two story structure and appears to stretch back for a fair distance. A plaque on the door, done in a picture, indicates that no animals are allowed inside the Inn. The plaque indicates that all steeds or other animals must be put in the stables and pens behind the Inn.

Those with animals or those who want to look at the stables:

The stables behind appear to be well tended and contain a number of animals including over a dozen horses, including several with eastern bloodlines you have never seen before, several ponies, a half dozen dogs and a number of more exotic animals including one hippogriff, two camels, and even an ostrich. It is apparent that travelers do frequent this inn.

The charge is:
2 silver wolves per night for a horse or pony;
1 silver wolf for a dog; and
5 silver wolves for unusual or exotic mounts (including elk).

An additional note attached to the sign with prices indicates that the owner of any animal which attacks and harms any employee or other animal will be responsible for paying any and all costs incurred.

As soon as you open the door to the Inn, you smell years of unwashed bodies and spilled alcohol. Clearly this is a working man’s tavern, not that where one would expect to find a noble or member of high society. The interior is dark, even at this early hour, and filled with smoke from the pipes of two men sitting by the fireplace. However, what catches your attention is the centerpiece of the room. Behind the bar and covered with either very clean glass or some type of magic are several beautiful and disturbing pieces of artwork.

In the middle, directly behind the bar is a large painting of a hideous monster. It looks like a spider, but the body is bulbous, huge and purple. However, instead of a spider’s head, it has the upper torso of a dark skinned female humanoid. In one arm it holds the torso and head of a knight, in the other the lower body of the same knight, apparently ripped in half by the creature. Most terrifying is the look on the creatures face which makes it look as though she is in ecstasy at having destroyed the warrior of good held in her hands. Behind the spider queen is a huge web of multiple colors which almost seems to change as you look at them as though you were looking at this through moving water.

On either side of the central picture are two other smaller paintings, which you would call creepy at best. To the left is a picture of a large web. In the web is caught a man wearing the garb of a cleric of Iomedae. Next to him is a beautiful woman, but from her back sprout eight legs as though a spider were sprouting from her back. It is apparent from the picture that this queen of spiders has just caught her next meal, or perhaps mate.

To the right of the spider queen picture is another scene which will leave nightmares for years to come. This time though, while there is no web, you can see the same woman as in the picture to the left of the spider queen. This time however, she is lying on the ground being poked by three goblins. Close inspection of the picture reveals that the sticks the goblins are using are blunt and their eyes are black, as though undead or under some spell. At the same time, the woman is smiling and in fact resting slightly above the ground supported by the eight legs protruding from her back. In the back of the picture, you can see approaching from behind the goblins what appears to be a brave warrior prepared sneak up behind the goblins to rescue the fair maiden, completely oblivious of the perilous web of deceit into which he is being ensnared.

Finally, above the fireplace at one end of the room is a fourth picture. While this one does not have any spiders or spider queens, it does show a large building ablaze with flames while a small child dances and laughs in front. In the windows of the building you can see several other children attempting to escape the inferno.

_________________

Spoilers for the Spider Queen picture.

Dungeoneering or Nature DC13:

The upper body of the spider queen appears to be that of a dark elf or drow.

Planes DC18:

You have heard of demons and devils from the Abyss and Hell that combine animals and humanoids into monsters of untold evil, but never one such as this.

Dungeoneering DC17:

You have heard of a creature called a Drider which is part dark elf and part spider.

Planes DC 25:

You recall seeing mention of a horrid creature which resembles this in an old dusty text while looking for something else. The text was from another material plane and noted that the drow in that land worshipped a chaotic and evil demon lord named Lolth, a demon lord so powerful that she ascended to godhood.

_________________

Spoilers for the pictures to the left and right of the Spider Queen picture.

Dungeoneering DC22:

This looks like a creature know as a Jorogumo. Jorogumo’s entice potential mates and then after mating, paralyze their mates, lay eggs in the still living body and then bind the living paralyzed body in a cocoon until the eggs hatch and use the captured victim as food.

History DC22 or DC15 if from the Verduran Forest:

You recall a story of a spider woman who lived in the Verduran Forest many years ago that fits these pictures. You believe she was killed or driven away by the druids and rangers of the forest together with the brave halfling wolf riders.

________________

Spoiler for the picture over the fireplace.

History or Local DC18:

You recall reading somewhere that about twenty years ago, there was a horrible fire in an orphanage in Oppara. Reports afterwards said that it was started by a young boy who had hoped to meet some famous adventurers. The adventurers had canceled at the last minute to attend a banquet with Grand Prince Stavian III. The child was so distraught that he lit the orphanage on fire causing the death of many other children and a number of adults caring for the children.

_________________

After looking at the rather disturbing pictures, you glance about the room and see a number of people. At one end around a table next to the fireplace, which is not lit due to the heat of the day, sit four men wearing long flowing robes with turbans on their heads, likely caravan guards if you had to guess. Before the fireplace in two large rocking chairs are two older men happily chatting while enjoying strangely crafted pipes unlike anything you have seen before. In one corner sits a tall dark man wrapped in a cloak and carefully watching all who enter the inn. In the middle of the room at a large table are several gnomes and a halfling who are attempting to talk two male humans and a lady elf into a game of dice. Finally, at a booth along one wall sit three people, two with swords sheathed at their sides while the third, a shorter woman, has a long cloak drawn around her.

There are still several open tables. As soon as you enter, the barkeep, a large man with a big smile, calls out and welcomes you. Shortly thereafter, a rather scantily clad woman approaches and asks whether she can get you anything to drink or eat. She also invites you to grab a table before they are all taken by the evening crowd.


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

Riding through the town on Gimpy, Maegge tried to hold on to his breakfast at the smell of "civilization".

"Braden, do all cities smell so revolting? And what is that man doing - and in the street! Gross!"

At this, Maegge is forced to remain silent: with his hands covering his mouth, he couldn't speak even if he wanted to. Which he didn't. Poor Gimpy, surely this places reeks even worse for him!

Arriving at the inn, he dismounts and escorts Gimpy into the stable after making sure that's what he was supposed to do. "At least you have company here, Gimps. Look, there's even a hippogriff! Now, now, don't get jealous he has wings. That just means he has a lot farther to fall if he ever gets hurt. And be nice: no fighting! Unless you're attacked, and then you can defend yourself, I suppose, but you're not allowed to pick a fight!" the halfling rambles on affectionately, reluctant to leave his new best friend.

Finally heading into the inn proper, he takes a look around.

Knowledge (Nature) {central picture}: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

"Huh! These pictures sure are weird. And disturbing. As if my belly wasn't turned enough as it is, now they have paintings that make it all twisty even worse! What do you think, Braden? Do you recognize anything in any of these? I'm afraid I didn't quite pay enough attention to my Da's lessons as I ought to have."

When the servingwoman indicates they should get a seat, he sits at the one closest to the door and therefore closest to the "fresh" outside air. "Is it possible to get just water, miss?" Not that I necessarily want to drink the water that would be found in such a shabby place!


The serving girl looks down at you with a scowl.
Not really a real man's drink. I gotta charge you for it though, the seat's ain't free and you may have noticed that water is a little sparse these days.

She then looks over at Braden, displeasure evident on her face. So, you want water as well? Or are you man enough to drink something real unlike you little friend?

I assume you two entered together.


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

Peeved at being so casually disdained, Maegge struggles not to reply out loud, instead managing a low mutter to Braden,

Braden, In Halfling:
"Water may not be a 'real mans drink', but it's doubtless better than whatever horse piss otherwise gets served in a hole like this."

Feeling better about himself now that he'd vented his spleen, "Right enough about the awful draught this year. So how much, then?"


Still giving you a look of disdain while waiting for your companion to answer.

Three caps for the water.

I am using the Andoran coinage. cp = caps, sp = wolves, gp = sails, and pp = falcons.


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

Arindale stables the mule and heads for the Inn. He is covered with dirt and the water he washes over his face only makes it streak across it, possibly making him look even more dirty and disheveled.
In his scalemail, weapons, and heavy bulk, Arindale would look like a hard man were it not for the easy-going smile that almost always graced his face.

Calls back to the Innkeep, May Cayden's blessing be with you friend!
@ Tybek, By Cayden's cup I could use a Drink...what say you Tybek? Here's a likely spot.
grabbing an open table closer to the bar so the drinks will come quicker.
Two ale's my good women!
when the ale comes out, he downs the drinks in one long pull. When the serving women looks at him expectantly Arindale gives her one of his winning smiles, Another of course!

As she leaves a strange look comes over Arindale...

Sense Motive DC 10:

A look of guilt suddenly comes over the man at ordering his drink.

Guess we should take it easy, too many strangers around here that may try to take advantage of drunken men...


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

"Ach! It's aboot time we arrived here at this wretched inn. Oi amnae surprised that wee bugger of a gnome gae us the wrang directions! Ach! It disnae matter! We are here now, Arindale. Let's hope yer Drunken Hero has blessed this place. Otherwise we couldbae drinkin poison afer we ken it! After yae!" The dwarf gestures to the front door to let his new acquaintance enter first.

Entering through the front doors, the long bearded dwarf pulls out a pocket watch on a chain and checks the time. He puts the watch away and announces to nobody in particular, "It's noin minutes past three and it's aboot time fer a drink."

Turning to Arindale he asks, "Would yae mind buyin this dwarf a wee nip of something. I dinnae hae any caps on mae."

Knowledge, Local 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Knowledge, Dungeoneering 1d20 ⇒ 3

"Ach! Wouldyae look at that crap on the wall! Some ane has some poor taste in artwork!"


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

Yeah...spiders I don't really like em. But that is what I have this for! he lays his morningstar on the table...you notice that there is still blood and gore caked on the weapon...and it does smell a bit.

By this point Tybek has easily noticed that the big man isn't very bright, although he seems to have a good heart.

Yes, a beer it is for my friend as well then.


The serving girl comes over, leaning low before Arindale and giving him a smile as she place the mugs on their table, and then again when she replaces them with another frothy set.

That'll be four caps a mug, so eight each right now. If ya want somethin' stronger we got a batch of dwarven stout recently delivered from Maheto.

While waiting for you to pay, she looks over with disgust at a table by the door where two rather short halflings are seated. Just don't start ordering water like those two, next glass they be gettin' 'll be dish water.


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

He digs out two gold and flops them onto the table, announcing to her. Keep the change beautiful! We are adventurers getting ready to strike it rich, there's going to be plenty more where that came from soon!
he boasts....

He whispers to his new Dwarven friend, We'd better do it quick though, my gold is almost out...


The serving girl gives Arindale another smile: Let me know whether there is anything else you need.

She then gives the halflings another dirty look before heading off to get beer and food for other better paying patrons in the slowly filling inn.


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

"Braden, I don't think she likes us. I mean, what's wrong with water? And three caps for it?!" he sighs in exasperation.


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

Tybek watches his friend put the two gold pieces down and nearly chokes when he offers to the serving girl to keep the change.

"What are yae, daft?!! Dae yae nae have twa caps in yer head tae ken that yae dinnae gie awa twa sails fer a wee nip oor twa?!!! Mebbae yae could be lettin mae hold antae yer purse strings fer yae until we earn some falcons and start baein rich! I dinnae care who yae worship, we willnae hae enough fer drinks in twa days at this rate!"

Turning to the serving girl, Tybek interjects, "What mae gud friend is trying tae tell yae isthat he is wantin tae set up a line o' credit sae we dinnae hae tae keep settlin up! Yae ken what I'm saying, a bartab for a servant o' the Drunken Hero and his loyal follower!"

Noticing the halflings with their water, Tybek confides in Arindale, "Hehe! Dae yae see the twa wee folk sittin at the table o'er there. They are drinkin only water! That's what they gie tae prisoners when they're locked awa. Hehe, at least the rounds wouldbae richt cheap if yae were buyin fer them!"


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

Overhearing another recent arrival boasting of plenty of sails just burning a hole in his pocket, Maegge checks his coin pouch - literally, his life savings. Ruefully pulling out a sail of his own, he holds it ready for the serving girl to return, hoping to avoid being "forgotten" as the girl catered to the flashier, and especially louder, patrons.


Hobbit [hp = 19/22; AC14/T14/ff11; F +1; R+3; W+4 CMD 12]

Kn:Dungeoneering/Kn:History Rolls:
Kn:Dungeonering1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27Kn:History1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Please be like this in combat!

The grumpy hobbit had been traveling for four days by himself and four days with his new traveling companion. After some initial setbacks on the road, Braden found his luck improved upon meeting the other hobbit, and that he and Maegge had more in common than he initially thought could be possible. They were both far from pretty to look at, shared an interest in magic, and had a love of animals. They didn't feel the need to fill in the long silences on the road with small talk and grew comfortable in each others silence. Many times Braden or Maegge would begin a conversation after a long lull and realize that the other was about to break the long silence at the same time.

Braden knew you could tell much about a person by the way they took care of their mount and the affection a mount had for its master. In that department, Braden realized that Maegge surpassed him. Maegge and his elk shared a bond that Braden and his dog couldn't hope to duplicate. Although Braden could hold his own in riding, he grew to respect the way Maegge handled animals, and found himself asking questions about ways to better care for his dog from the druid.

After stabling their animals, Braden shakes the dirt from the trail from his leather riding duster and leaves it with his mount as he enters the inn with Maegge.


Hobbit [hp = 19/22; AC14/T14/ff11; F +1; R+3; W+4 CMD 12]

The somewhat skinny hobbit dressed in scholars robes and wearing spectacles enters the inn. He tries to cover his amazement at all the paintings and the large people with the finely crafted pipes with his typical scowl, but part of a grin leaks through.

He can be overheard pontificating to the younger hobbit at his side the meaning of the paintings as he takes a seat at the bar.
"See how the upper part of the Spider Queen is a dark elf or drow. That hybrid creature is called a drider. See that poor male--that is a bound male captive that will be used as a living cocoon to grow baby spiders--he is called a Jorgumo. The spider women there, I think she was driven away buy a force of woodsmen. That picture there, shows the orphanage fire started by a boy disappointed that heroes canceled a visit to his orphanage for a royal summons. I think those were big people heroes, of course, we would never do such a thing."

Upon sitting down at the bar, Braden looks at the unfriendly greeting and asks the barmaid her name. Hearing her reply, the hobbit gets excited and says, "What a coincidence, that is the name of my riding dog. But then my apologies, I would never confuse you with something I would ride. Water for me too."

Braden turns to Maegge and affirms, "She doesn't like us." When their drinks arrive, Braden quickly exchanges cups with Maegge and explains, "For luck. May your feet be never shorn and your stomach never rumble."

Plus, if there is something in that cup, I think a druid should be more used to some extra organic compounds.


Profile not in use

As the cool water from the basin runs off Glorfin's face, he closes his eyes momentarily and breathes deeply. Taking a knee and shouldering his shield from his shoulder before him, he takes a rag from his pack and wets it before beginning to clean the face of his shield in a ritualistic fashion. He traces the lines of the sigil first, murmering in Dwarven as he does so "Ми смо рођени од гвожђа, што тече кроз нас као крв. Наш гвожђе је ублажен ватре, што чекић од наше воље да Сундер наше непријатеље пред нама. Снага од гвожђа, бес ватре.". He then wipes clean the remainder of the icon with radiating strokes from center to rim - as though they were rays of sunlight. Judging the work acceptable, he kisses the sigil at the shield's center before sliding it back into position on his shoulder.

Dwarven:
"We are born of iron, it flows through us as blood. Our iron is tempered by fire, making a hammer of our will to sunder our foes before us. Strength of iron, anger of fire."
I've used Serbian google translate.

It is then that he moves slowly but firmly through the village, dispassionately regarding all around him. His face is as stone, and he holds no qualms to meeting the gaze of all around him. After a short time he arrives at the Inn in question and wastes no time in pushing open the door and entering.

He meets the barkeep's welcome with a nod and looks around the room. He cuts an imposing, though somewhat strange figure. Armor, skin and hair mainly stained by long travel upon the road, his face and shield have been cleaned of the dirt to cleanliness. The sigil upon his shield is not one that you readily recognize, though it shares the strong and angular form of dwarven language. He notes the presence of the two halflings met upon the road, though he is drawn to his kin by blood who is talking with a human.

Approaching the dwarf he stops a few meters from him and delivers a formal greeting in Dwarven "Здраво рођак, можда осетите топлину у Форге-Фире." and proffers the human a nod.

Dwarven:
"Hail kinsman, may you feel the warmth of the Forge-Fire."
Forge-Fire refers to Angradd, the dwarvish god of Fire and War

Glorfin Appearance:
The first thing that you notice about the dwarf approaching you is the calm and steady manner in which he carries himself. There is significant bulk on his frame, and although he might be slow to move and react... there is a tangible sense of the surety of stone to him.

His hair drawn back into a shoulder length ponytail, and beard braided with copper beard rings; barrel chest and thickly muscled arms and legs; calloused hands and a gravelly deep voice all scream dwarf to the observer... and yet there is something more to him. His eyes betray the secret of his otherworldly heritage - with the pupils, iris and whites all combined into a sky blue and slightly luminescent color. When drawn to anger the orbs flare with an inner fire, fueled by the conviction of his beliefs.

Glorfin is garbed for war, with heavy scale armor complemented by a brace of hammers both small and large and a heavy steel shield. The front of the shield bears an etched sigil of a poorly known empyreal lord - Ogoun, whose fiefdom is fire and iron. Gauntleted hands grip the weaponry easily, ready to bring them to bear if the need arises.


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

Tybek, who is sitting at a table next to his friend Arindale, is startled to hear his native tongue spoken. However, upon turning around and seeing the impressive looking dwarf, the young clockmaker turns pale as thoughts race through his head.

Dear Cayden, they've found me! Dammit, how could Oi've be so careless. Hell, Oi must've made someone really mad to get 'em to chase me this far. Now they've got some blue eyed bounty hunter ready to bring me in! Stay calm. Stay calm! They won't get me quite so easily, yet.

Bluff Check to stay calm and relaxed 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (15) - 2 = 13

Tybek replies in his native tongue, a little less formal, but dwarven nonetheless.

"Хухмм Добар дан! Мислим вече. Добро вече вама, колега патуљак Хухмм! И да осетите топлину у Форге-огањ на вас, као и Шта доноси колегом рођака на овај начин, али.? Мислим, где да ли долазе из добро?, оно што ја покушавам да кажем је одакле зовете кући, мој пријатељ? "

Dwarven:
Glorfin wrote:
"Hail kinsman, may you feel the warmth of the Forge-Fire."

"Huhmm! Good day! I mean evening. Good evening to you, fellow Dwarf! Huhmm! And may you feel the warmth of the Forge-Fire upon you as well. What brings a fellow kinsman this way, but? I mean, where do you come from? Well, what I am trying to say is where do you call home, my friend?"

Tybek's Appearance:

At first glance the dwarf, Tybek, appears to be a bit of a slob. His cloak is rather dirty; His hair and beard are unkept; His chain shirt lacking its normal gleam. A battle axe rests up against the table ready to grab at moment's notice. His gray eyes look tired, and his boots look well worn, but a small smile grins under that bushy beard of his as he nurses a big mug of ale.


Profile not in use

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Glorfin notes the surprise shown by the dwarf, but it only draws a slight frown of confusion as he does not know why the reaction was elicited. Slipping into Common so as not to be seen to exclude the human with the dwarf, he touches mailed fist to chest "I am Glorfin Umbar-Caeli, ward of Rolgrimmdur... might I join you?"

If permitted to sit, Glorfin calls to the barkeep "Have you rakia good man? - and bread?" pushing a gold coin of dwarvish make across the bar, but keeping a finger upon it until answered.

Rakia - basically fruit brandy.


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

sense motive 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Arindale looks at the Dwarf with a rather blank look on his face.
He is also heavily armored in Scalemail and Heavy Shield. He is not tall for a human, but he is rather thick. There is a large morningstar sitting on the table along with two mugs of ale...

He then looks to his Dwarven friend Tybek, with an expectant look on his face...


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)
Glorfin wrote:
"I am Glorfin Umbar-Caeli, ward of Rolgrimmdur... might I join you?"

As the name Rolgrimmdur is announced, Tybek eases his guard just a bit, but not too much.

"Aye, yae can join us all yae like. Please, hae a seat."

Tybek notices Arindale's expectant face and sends him a look that says "Nothing to worry about my friend."

Bluff to deliver secret message to Arindale 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (16) - 2 = 14

But, the meaning is not quite as clear to the human.

"Ach! It's nice tae hae some company o' anither dwarf. Especially since I 'ere that the Inn is likin tae fill up soon. Telll mae, Glorfin, hae yae been on the road fer lang?"


Profile not in use

Glorfin eases his bulk into a stool beside Tybek and replies "Not long kinsman, these are the first steps I have taken above the earth from my hold."


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

Observing the group of Dwarfs congregate, Maegge asks Braden, "Ξέρετε νάνος; Τι λένε οι νάνοι;"

Halfling:
"Do you know Dwarven? What are those dwarfs saying?" Google Translate to Greek!


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

Tybek's mood lightens gradually the more he converses with the impressive dwarf.

Glorfin wrote:
"Not long kinsman, these are the first steps I have taken above the earth from my hold."

Aye, that's whit I like tae hear! Just a few wee steps on the surface! Hehe!

"Oi imagine that it must feel richt different tae be on the surface. Oh, and please, call me Tybek. Tell me, Glorfin, hae yae travelled south as far as Maheto or Faldamont? There are many o' our kin living there and Oi wonder if yae had a chance tae meet with some o' them."


Profile not in use

Glorfin shakes his head "I have not stepped far from Rolgrimmdur, I was training to take the Oath and join the Ninth... before I was drawn Eastwards" a look of slight reflection upon his face before he shakes his head to dissipate it. "What of you Tybek, what drew you to these parts?"


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

Aye this is perfect! He disnae ken anything aboot mae!

Gradually Tybek begins to warm up and become more comfortable with the strange, but impressive dwarf with the blue eyes.

Glorfin wrote:
"I have not stepped far from Rolgrimmdur, I was training to take the Oath and join the Ninth... before I was drawn Eastwards"

"Aye, sae didyae join the ninth oor are yae drawn tae sae the world and wander first?"

While in the midst of his conversation, Tybek realizes that the Rakia has not arrived at the table yet. Calling out to the serving lady, Tybek says, "Aye, Missus, the dwarf here is still waitin fer his drink. Dae yae mind bringin it over before mae beard grows anither inch?"

Turning to Arindale, Tybek adds, "Oi'm expectin yae tae keep an eye oot for these things. The Drunken Hero would hae nae of this at all."

Tybek takes out a well crafted pocket watch, opens the lid, checks the time, and then complains about the service. "I ken this place is suppose tae be good fer adventurin and a', but the services is as slow as a grim horn centipede wha is stuck in thae mud! Sorry what did yae say?"

Glorfin wrote:
"What of you Tybek, what drew you to these parts?"

"Oh aye! I've just arrived fra the south. I wasnae findin tae much work in Faldamont and Oi thought Oi could try mae luck up here. Oi have a fair amount of skills with simple machines and such, but that dirty place mostly has a great deal o' mining and such. Up here Oi hope tae mak a real livin fer maeself, but. If Oi cannae dae it with my skill o' the machine, Oi can always use mae trusted Axe tae serve in some adventurin party or whatsuchnot. Mind yae Oi havenae been here that long. After a gud nicht rest, Oi'll have a much better idea if that willbae possible."


The serving girl picks up the dwarven coin and looks it over for a moment.

Don't see these around her often. Let me see what we have.

She leaves and then returns a few minutes later empty handed.

I'm sorry, we don't have . . . Reka. We do have some good dwarven stout from Maheto and if you are interested in sweet drinks, we just received some Kirschwasser from Galt and Damassine from Casmaron.

The girl then walks over by the table with the halflings and after receiving yet another order of water gives them both a dirty look. She heads to the back and returns a few minutes later with a glass of water which appears to have a variety of materials floating it it. Not all of which appear healthy to consume.

Enjoy your water little man. When you are ready for a real drink, let me know.

She then returns back to the dwarves and Cayden priest to see whether the blue eyed dwarf had made a decision on what to order.

While waiting: Also, if yer interested, we've got some good stew cookin' in the back, tonight is venison, tastes real good. She looks over her shoulder at the halflings. Or you can just order a salad like those two halfmen are likely to request.


Profile not in use

To the serving girl Glorfin sighs before replying "If not Rakia, then I must settle for whisky. Please a bottle and glass... or three?" looking towards Tybek and his companion. "And just bread for now... I would cleanse my mouth of days of dust before I contemplate aught else."

To Tybek he explains "On the night before my trial to join the Ninth and take the Oath... I was called. The yearning has led me here... but for what purposes I cannot yet ken." before smiling as Tybek explains his talents. "I have not as many skills as you to offer Tybek... Indeed I have naught but faith, but I trust in his calling." a slight fire flaring in his blue orbs for a moment before fading.


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

"Ach, Aye! Oi'll join yae fer a wee nip! They cannae mess that order up!"

Tybek listens to Glorfin's tale of faith with incredulity in his eyes.

"Yae were called?!! What does that mean? Who called yae?! Because of this yearning, yae actually left just afore the oath?! Did they think yae were daft?! So what is this yearning thing? It mustae been awffy strong! Is it some sort of feelin yae get? Are yae sure the feeling wasnae some sort of indigestion from somethin yae ate?!! Just b'fore the oath?! By Cayden's wee dug, I still cannae believe it!! Oi'm nae sure yer arenae daft! So were does this feelin tak yae next?"


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

You gotta have faith Tybek, it's what the gods give you! It's not always the easiest thing though, Cayden gave me the thirst, now I have ta walk the path... he stares at his cup longingly but still hasn't touched his second drink...


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

"Aye, yae hae a gud heart, Arindale! But it isnae always so simple! Aye, Oi ken the Drunken Hero makes a richt fine drink. Oi dannae doubt that! But he isnae gonna pay much heed tae a fat dwarf like mae. The onnie yearning Oi get is tae gae relieve maeself, that an fer anither drink!"


The young lady returns a few minutes later with a dark bottle, you can see from the markings on the bottle that it is Andoran, and a plate with a steaming loaf of fresh baked dark bread which smell delicious. You all feel the rumbling in your stomachs, especially the halflings who watch the bread pass by.

You sure you want the bottle? It will be four sails. Or, three wolves per glass.

Waiting on Ranim to appear so that we can get everyone going. I am loving the interaction so far, keep it up. She just posted on the OOC, so I assume she will get something up shortly.


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)

When Tybek hears the cost of a glass and the bottle, his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

"Dinnae look at me! Oi'm near skint! But Oi'm happy tae share in a wee dram or twa!"


[(HP 20/26 | AC15 T11 FF13 CMD16 | F+2 R+4 W+2 | Inish +1 Per +3 S.M. +5) Female Suli Bard 3

Ranim opens the door to the Inn, taking in the patrons. She had kept the hood of her drab brown cloak pulled up and low to hide her lovely face. Her step-father always told her to keep it pulled when wandering towns alone, lest someone decide to try something. But she lowers it as she comes into the Inn, not thinking of his warnings.

She feels several eyes turn to her, not unusual. She often felt other's gaze fall upon her during the shows, and even after. With a practiced hand she simply smiles as she heads towards her decided destination. The two halflings she saw on the road, there must be some story of interest between them. Walking to the table they share, she asks "Would you two mind some company?" She offers a friendly smile as she asks, one that promises friendliness and nothing more. Just another skill she had picked up.


Profile not in use

Tybek can see Glorfin's muscles tense under his verbal assault, though the touched dwarf remains neutral and stony of face and expression. "I need not explain myself to you kinsman." said without turning to face Tybek as he speaks.

Glorfin removes three more golden coins of Dwarven make and slides them to the lady. "Thank you." before opening the bottle and pouring himself a couple of fingers into his glass, before disdaining it a moment to tear at the loaf of dark bread.


Seeing the tall cloaked woman come in and join the water boys, the serving girl comes over.

Kin I get you anything m'lady? Or would you also prefer a glass of our drought water like these two little men?

You can hear the sarcasm oozing from her words as she mentions the halflings and their choice of drinks.


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)
Glorfin wrote:
"I need not explain myself to you kinsman."

"Ach! Dinnae tak any offense, mae friend. Oi'm just a lost dwarf far afield and alang wa frae home. Oi always hae a bad habit of bein tae direct. Oi actually admire what yae did! Oi just dinnae understand it! Oi was serious, what is this yearning like? Oi dinnae ken many folk whae let gae o' their oath moments before thae tak it."

As the noble dwarf pours his drink into his glass, Tybek eyes the bottle eagerly, but tires not to be too eager.

"Can Oi help yae with a wee nip mae friend?!"


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

Fed up with being mocked by the serving girl, Maegge calls her out and speaks loudly so the whole of the common room can hear, "I find you discourteous, miss. All we wanted was some water to soothe our parched throats and whet our appetites; what matter our choice of drink, so long as we pay? Aye, and pay well!" Not like we had a choice... three caps for water-faugh!

Pulling out the sail he'd picked out earlier, he holds it up for the girl - and entire room - to see, the gold coin glinting in the dim light.

"The tip must reflect the service, so the choice is yours: mind your manners and bring us the drink and food - especially food, we Halflings are rather fond of our six meals a day - and you'll go home tonight with a coin purse well lined... or not." At 'or not', he puts the coin away.

Turning to the woman who'd just sat down with Braden and himself, "You are welcome to our table! I am Maegge, and this is Braden. I'm sorry for making a scene, but I'm sure you understand that just because someone's different is no reason to be rude."


Profile not in use

Glorfin nods a grudging acceptance of Tybek's words before talking "The night before my trial, I prayed at a place sacred to my blood. While my eyes were closed, I felt a spiritual pull upon my will... drawing me away. When my eyes were open, my patron had blessed me with his sign" tapping the shield across his shoulder. "This is the call I have answered, and here is where it has bade me"


The serving girl turns and gives Maegge a long hard look before turning and heading back into the kitchen. A few moments later she returns with two bowls of steaming venison stew. As she is walking toward your table, there is suddenly a loud outburst from the center table as the elvish woman jumps up.

Shouting - I knew it ya little cheating thief. She is pointing at one of the gnomes. I saw you switch the dice, now empty your pockets and lets see what you have in there.
As she says this, one of her male human companions also stands up drawing his blade as he does so.

Perception DC18:

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
You see the halfling also draw a blade which he keeps concealed beneath the table. He also seems to be pocketing something from one of the gnomes.

As the elf yells this, you see the barkeep reach under the counter and draw a large and well polished club as he walks over to the big table.
Barkeep - There'll be no bloodshed here tonight. Y'all kin put yer weapons away, or take it outside. If y'alls make another move, I'll call Krank from the kitchen 'n he'll toss y'all out into the dust.

The gnome at whom the elf woman is staring simply stares back unfazed: I do not cheat, if you do not like losing, you should not have played.


Profile not in use

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23 For a hunch DC 20 - on whether the outrage is genuine or forced

Glorfin turns at the sign of commotion, but does not yet speak. He does slide off his bar stool so as to be at the ready if action was needed.


DM Rolls:

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Glorfin:

You sense that the elf truly believes she was somehow swindled. You also feel that the gnome is speaking with a forked tongue, although doing it quite well.


Profile not in use

Glorfin will continue to watch for a few moments, though would act if violence was imminent.


Waiting on a few more people to post their actions/reactions before moving on.


HP 25/25; Per +12 (+2 outside); AC 16, Touch 14, Flat 13; Gimpy HP 28/28; Per +6; AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14

Maegge smiles graciously to the serving girl when she reappears from the kitchen with stew in hand, happy their difficulties seem to have been resolved. She probably spit in the food, though.

At the sudden commotion from the gambling table, he jumps in startlement. Looking to see what's going on,

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

Slouching in his chair, he watches and waits for the imminent brawl to break out... hopefully just not over his own table.

To Braden and their female table guest, he comments in dismay, "Please remind me to not sit near the door in the future: we'll always be in the direct path for brawlers getting tossed."


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

perception 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

You have to answer the call Glorfin, even if it is just mother nature calling... he jokes with the solemn Dwarf.

He looks over at the table casuing the scuffle, If he's a cheater, shouldn't he be thrown out? he says, not even considering the fact that the Elf might be lying...


Dwarf Rogue 3 (hp: 31/31, AC 18, Touch 14, Flat 14, Perception +7 (+9 Traps), Stealth +13)
Arindale wrote:
"You have to answer the call Glorfin, even if it is just mother nature calling... "

"Harharhar! That's whit Oi was sayin! Har Har! The call o' nature!"

Shouting wrote:
"I knew it ya little cheating thief." She is pointing at one of the gnomes. "I saw you switch the dice, now empty your pockets and lets see what you have in there."

Once the yelling breaks out, Tybek looks over his shoulder to see what the trouble is.

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

He turns around, takes another swig of his ale and comments to Glorfin and Arindale, "Aye, Oi've seen this sort of thing b'fore. Can yae nae see it? The gnome mae be a cheat, but daesnae hae the treasure now. The wee halfling is pocketing it frae the gnome. Ach! He also has a wee pointy dagger drawn which he's hidin b'neath the table. Oi could get ahold o' the trinket if needed, but Oi dannae ken if Oi wantae get involved. Oi've nae had much luck b'fore with justice and the law and such. If trouble breaks oot, Oi've got mae axe, but Oi don't want trouble. Oi'm actually tryin tae be a gud dwarf. Besides, Oi was just getting settled in this place."


As you are all discussing the ethics of the gnomes and halflings, suddenly the large dark man who had been sitting in the corner earlier appears as though out of nowhere behind the halfling and gnome. Before they can even react, he reaches out and grabs each one by their collars and lifts them into the air.

He sternly looks from one to the other and back while the halfling attempts to swipe at him with the dagger that Tybek had noticed. The man hardly takes notice and when the halfling manages to land a blow, all you see is the cloak being sliced and the glint of silvery armor beneath.

I don't know where you all are from, but you better return there fast.

He then looks at the gnome with both disdain and pity. You were winning fairly, but then decided you needed help and switched the dice. Now, return the ladies money, all of it.

He then turns his gaze to the halfling. You cut my cloak one more time with that little blade of yours, and I won't be so nice as to how I remove you from this establishment.

After the gnome tosses the money back on the table, and the halfling, after being shaken a few times finally drops his dagger and a set of dice, the large man carries the two of them to the door and simply tosses them out, much to the surprise of a little old man who was about to enter. Turning, he looks at the second gnome sitting with mouth agape at the table still: Unless you want to be carried out, you had better get you tail in gear and follow your friends right quick.

Once the gnome makes his exit, the man stands at the door for a minute and then calls out: If I ever see either of you in this town stealing from honest folk again, you had better hope the guard is about.

With that, he allows the old man to enter before returning to his table in the corner. As he walks past the barkeep, still standing with his club in one hand: Zorin, if I were you, I would hire that guard you have been talking about. Every time I come through here, it seems the number of low life's in this town have increased.

After standing and watching the large man eliminate the con artists without a drop of blood, the serving girl carefully sets the stew she had been carrying down on Maegge and Braden's table and then politely asks Ranim if there is anything she would like. All the time not really paying attention because she, as with most other patrons in the inn, is watching the large man nonchalantly return to his table and pick up his mug of ale as though physically tossing the gnome and halfling out were no different than shooing away a fly that had landed on his sleeve.


Male Human Cleric 3 (FC) AC 20 HP 29/29 F: +5 R: +2 W:+5 Perc: +2

Here, here! Arindale chimes in towards the big man...he slowly reaches over lifts his ale in a salute and takes a small pull of his second ale...

Back to the Dwarves, We should start asking around to see where the adventure and treasure is. I plan to get in the servers skirt by the end of the week and that's going to take more gold!
You two any good at snooping around? Purn was always the one that found out where to go in our last group...before the poor bugger died that is.


Hobbit [hp = 19/22; AC14/T14/ff11; F +1; R+3; W+4 CMD 12]

Braden rises quickly and bows to the Suli as she sits at the table. "Ma'am, after the service we have received, your attentions are well appreciated. We would relish the company, please be seated." Braden helps move out a chair for the lady to sit at, and helps her scoot it in if she lets him.

Now that a lady is seated at the table, Braden feels a need to show off his wit. Switching from halfling to common, Braden explains...

"My companion was asking me to translate the exchange between the two dwarves there. The scruffy looking one was asking the warrior dwarf with the long hair and beard where he got his hair done. He didn't realize the scruffy fashion was out, and the long braided look was in. The large dwarf explained he spent hours conditioning, shampooing, and braiding his hair. He was thinking of having it professionally done, but the elves were the only ones sufficiently skilled at getting the look just right. The scruffy one mentioned that he was skilled at hair care and dressing gentleman as he was previously employed as a valet. He could find some great accesories with some pastel colors to spruce up his dour wardrobe."

After his fanciful explanation, Braden remarks, "Well, the warrior dwarf really said he had a calling and is here on some sort of quest. He said something about this calling taking precedence over taking an oath and joining the ninth. The scruffy dwarf was somewhat evasive about his past, but was looking for adventuring opportunities. The human with them has spoken much less than the chatty dwarves he is with--maybe they are playing some role reversal there. For a Cayden worshipper he seems reserved."

After the venison stew arrives, Braden switches bowls again with Maegge, 'for luck', and begins to dig in voraciously.

Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

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