The Dales and Beyond

Game Master littlehewy

Dot away, friends!

DOT!! Excited to give this a go!

Dot

5pm, 5th of Eleint, 335 NR (1367 DR)

It is a beautiful Eleint day, the summer weather having slid into fall, and as the late afternoon sun makes its way towards the horizon it illuminates the yellowing leaves of the trees that surround the Shadowdale road. You have all recovered from a griffon attack two days ago that cost you all of your horses but one, and while Kraz sports a large, bloodstained rip down the front of his fur tunic, Beerg's healing hands have left the flesh beneath whole and unscarred.

Shadowdale is a region of hills and forest. You have passed the odd hamlet here and there, and now and again cleared farmland beside the road, but by and large you have been surrounded by gently rolling woodlands. At times, when you crest a high hill, you can faintly make out the dark smudge of the Desertmouth mountain range to the west. Despite knowing that many creatures make their home in this area, such as the griffons that attacked you, the traces of Elfdom that linger in these woods give a sense of peace, of home.

As the sun dips ever closer to the treetops the road makes its way downhill and to the southwest, and the faint scent of woodsmoke hits your nostrils. You pass an old track on your right, and shortly after a large pool on your right in the centre of a large cleared area. In this area you see old, regular stones that have been arranged into makeshift battlements, though they are overgrown and well-settled. A few minutes down the road, and the trees give way to the town of Shadowdale, nestled in the valley.

To your left, you see a neat, well-tilled field; to your right, a low temple surrounded by pillars and bearing the sigil of Chauntea, the goddess of farmers, summer, and plenty, hosts an outdoor service of some kind, perhaps a wedding, or funeral. The road leads on to a large crossroads, the hub of the small town. As you approach you see few people on the streets, but a few structures catch your eye. The first, on the right of the crossroads, is a three-storey, homely looking inn that bears a sign proclaiming it the Old Skull. Across the road from the inn is what appears to be a general trader, with the name "Weregund's" painted on the side facing you. Outside the inn is a large wooden post that has pieces of parchment nailed to it, perhaps messages or notices.

As you drink in the welcome sight of the little town, a man approaches, a farmer by the look of him. His friendly face crinkles in a smile as he nears you. "Good day sirs and madams. Name's Bestil, Hyne Bestil. Well met, and welcome to Shadowdale!" Then he notices the greenish skin of the two half-orcs and his eyebrows leap towards his hairline in surprise. "Oh! Well there you go! Never mind that, though. Well met indeed. If you're looking for lodgings, the Old Skulls the place, and a pint of ale too. I'm off home for now, but I might pop in a bit later. Just mind your manners, now, and you'll be fine!" With another smile and a wave, he makes he way down the road to the southeast, towards the farm houses that line the road, whistling as he goes.

Okay folks, fire away. Temple, trader, inn, notice board, or you can continue further into town (southwest), or turn left (southeast) or right (northwest). If you check the map on the Campaign Info page, you are on the main road between building 17 (a barn) and building 18 (Weregund's). The black circle is the message post, building 12 is the Old Skull Inn. Have at it!

Weary and foot-sore, Jack heads over to the post with the paper flapping about. He smooths it down and read the contents out loud, in a slow, and sometimes halting voice.

Sorin looks to the ragtag group of traveling companions. ”Well that went better than I expected. I don’t know about you guys but my sensei mentioned that to get anywhere we would need coin. Perhaps the notice board could lead us in the direction of some honest work.” with a smile she points Kraz’s chest ”Kraz, you might find someone to fix your armor as well.”

The monk turns back to town and her smile turns into a confused look for a moment. ”Huh, looks like Jack’s already got a leg up on us guys. “ The smile returning Sorin heads to the town center to meet up with Jack.

There are in fact four pieces of parchment currently attached to the post. Three of them are public, fluttering in the gentle breeze, while the fourth is folded and tacked so that its contents are not displayed to the public. Jack reads out the first notice:

REWARD: 20 Silver Pieces for anyone who brings to justice the unknown cattle drivers who have wrecked crops and fences. See Silas Standard at grain booth on Market Day to collect.

The second notice reads:

Wanted: Adventuring party to perform reconnaissance. 100 Gold Pieces, plus percentage of any booty found. Inquire with the Captain-of-Arms and Warden of Shadowdale.

This notice has been badly overwritten in some places with smudged and barely legible pencil markings to read: Wanted: Adventuring party to perform suicide mission. 100 gold pieces, plus burial of your body, if found. Inquire with Captain-of-Harms and Worrier of Shadowdale.”

The final public notice makes Jack's forehead crease as he reads it out:

Rumors for Sale. Inquire of Llewellyn the Loquacious. Also available to sing at weddings, funerals, and other celebratory affairs.

Kraz looks down at his chest with a confused look. He then looks at Sorin with an amused, toothy grin.

"Kraz no wear armor. That's just my extreme buffness that looks like armor! And thanks to Kraz's new friend here my armor is all fixed up."

He watches as the others read the message boards all the while thinking about the ale that was mentioned.

"Kraz thinks we should have ales before we consider options.."

"I agree my friend. Let us retire from this heat and dust and refresh ourselves with the vittles offered at this fine establishment."

Jack heads into the Old Skull Inn with Kraz going before him.

ahhh, an ale would be nice. Beerg wiping the sweat of travel from his brow it'll give us chance to refresh before we chase down these cattle drivers destroying farmers lively hoods.

Beerg thirstily follows in Kraz and Jacks tow.
Sorin, we have a lot to catch up on friend

Looking to Nilelane, Sorin motions her head in a “come on” fashion and follows the others to the tavern.

She had been distracted by a single dandelion somehow making its way unstomped through the cracks in the cobblestone. She was oddly squatted over it, petting it like a puppy. Her eyes however were distant, and she whispered her typical breed of nonsense in a way that caused little children to stop, stare, and become quite frightened...

"Little pixie, where have you gone?" she shouts as tears and a bizarre smile simultaneously strike her face. The sound of her own voice seems to startle her and she shakes her head back to semi-normality, catching Sorin's gesture...she stumbles through the tavern door striking it hard with her body awkwardly on the way in.

Ha Nilelane is so kooky.

As you approach the stone and wooden inn, there are two scrawny, poorly-groomed horses loosely tethered to a wooden post just outside the heavy double doors. You pull the doors open, and the warm light from within washes out over you.

The taproom of the Old Skull inn is alive with the bustle of a thriving business. The innkeeper, a motherly woman with greying hair, and her waiter, a trim, well-kept man, are kept busy serving food and
refilling mugs.

A quartet of men wearing tunics bearing the arms of Mourngrym, the local lord, share beers and stories in one corner. In another, two stern-looking shepherds are talking to an equally stern-faced merchant. At a booth table a pretty young woman is listening intently to a young man in a smith’s smock.

At the central table is another apparent merchant, nervously fingering his purse and watching the young couple. A pair of men in hunting leathers are a few tables over, talking in low tones. Lastly, a trio of strangers dressed in the robes of the desert are at a side table, toasting each other with glasses of clear liquid and talking in excited, heavily accented tones.

Obilvious of the other patrons Kraz heads to the bar..

"Barkeep! A pint of you finest for Kraz and his new friends. The road makes one thristy!"

The grey-haired woman keeps her eye on the tankard she's currently pouring. "Just a minute, Kraz and friends, and I'll be right with you." She takes four ales over to the men in livery, plonks them down with a smile, then bustles back to the bar. "So," she says looking up at Kraz for the first time. She doesn't flinch at his half-orc features. "What can I get for you, Kraz? Ales all round, was it?"

Everyone take what drink you like, the Inn has an ale, a stout, various wines, and firewater (whiskey). Water, tea, or milk are also available.

"Name's Jhaele Silvermane, this is my inn. Anything else I can get you? Food, or rooms for the night?" The smells wafting from the kitchen are delightful, and the food you can see in front of other patrons looks beautifully presented.

Mouth watering Kraz responds..

"Some that food looks good to Kraz thinks. He'll have some of that. How much?"

As Kraz captures the attention of most of the clientele of the Inn, Jack scrutinizes the patrons. He is most interested in the merchant holding onto his money purse...his fat, jingle-ly money purse...
He keeps his distance from the guardsmen, but also takes an interest in the pretty young lady, and moves in to hear what the boy talking to her has to say.

Sorin walks into the inn with a curious look on her face. She had never been into a tavern such as this. The common room at the temple was the closest it got so she was unsure of what to expect. ”Libations and food. Not too much different. I wonder if the mead is as seeet here. ” she ponders to herself. ”Excuse me, may I have a cup of mead?” when the bartender tells her they don’t have mead, Sorins brow furrows as she contemplated what to get instead. ”Well, I’ve never had an ale, so I’ll try one of those.”

She will then step over to Beerg to converse. ”How have been Beerg? I see you travel alone now. When I met you at the temple, I believe you were traveling with two others. I can’t recall their names though. “ Its a bit of an add lib on your history under your profile Beerg. If you’d rather I didn’t do it just let me know.

Kraz: "Three silvers for a full meal. You won't be sorry," Jhaele says. "Of course, if you're taking a room, meals are part of the deal. I'll keep a tab, just don't go disappearing. Anyone else for a feed?" she asks, looking around the group.

Anyone who wants food, just mention.

Jack: As Jack moves surreptitiously closer to the booth where the young man and woman converse, he hears snatches of what the lad is saying. He seems to be telling her about the increased responsibility his master is giving him at the smithy, including making weapons for Mourngrym's guardsmen.

Kraz slams down the first ale and digs into the food. He is obviously lacking any sort of manners. Shortly after he raises a finger in indication of want for another ale.

Jack knows he has an issue with vice's, especially alcohol. He simply cannot help himself so if you don't want him hammered and useless you will have to step in at some point lol. It will be an ongoing issue me thinks.

Jack: Can you please make a Deception check to not look weird and obvious so that you don't draw the attention of the young man?

Deception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

"Err..Umm..I'll have something to eat!" Jack calls out and moves away from the couple...

Ha sorry, forgot to mention that was DC 10, so no problems there :)

So those who want drinks have them, those who want food have ordered it, there are spare tables, a spare booth table next to the young man and woman, or spare stools at the bar. And all those fun NPCs just hanging around.

Nilelane stares at each person inside the inn for at least a good minute, perhaps trying to gauge them as a threat. She pays special attention to the arms bearing quartet and the symbol of power they display...

History, Mourngrym: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

...later, she eats voraciously, as if fasting for days. Come to think of it, she hadn't really eaten anything since the griffon attack. When the blood splashed her face some of it got into her mouth, and she was sick ever since.

Nilelane is quite beautiful, or at least pretty...but she has an unkempt nature that makes her appear much less noble and wealthy than she really is. Whether that's from grief or her attempts to conceal her identity, its hard to say.

She abstains from hard drink and instead prefers the hot tea, her little elven eyes perking up with the caffeine rush, and her odd posture correcting itself at long last.

Gulping down the ale for the first time she cringes one of her eyes and scrunches up her mouth. "Wow, that's alot different than mead. Not bad though.'

Waving down the innkeep, "Excuse me? Hello, I didn't catch your name, I'm Sorin and this is Beerg. New in town, looking for some work. The notice board was a little bare, maybe you know of anything?"

Beerg standing Kraz and Sorin at the bar also has an ale, although not capable of drinking it as fast as the hardened Kraz, he does attempt to gulp a little larger than he is capable.

As Beerg catches Sorin's eye and conversation Yes indeed i was Sorin. You have a great memory. Rion and Chert is who they were. A great young couple, but unfortunately Rion is no longer with us. It was a terrible tragedy..... but a story for another time.

Beerg has a small moment to himself... Then chugs the rest of his ale in a manner more like Kraz.

so how have you been Sorin? Did you end up finding your Grandfather? You were heading to waterdeep to find him yes?

adlib away, saves me the thinking ;) thinking isnt one of my strong points, haha

During the conversation Beerg can be seen eyeing the merchant also. He notices Jack is also attentive to his intent. Or is Jack watching his purse?

Sorin: Jhaele looks at your group's weapons and armour. "It's been pleasantly quiet around here the past few moons, but it seems Lord Mourngrym is looking for adventurers to take care of some nasty business. There was a notice on the post this morning about it... You'd do best to enquire at the Twisted Tower, other end of town, on the river. Excuse me," and she hurries off to attend to a spill in the kitchen.

Kraz finishes his ale and begins to order a third when he is shot down by Jack.. Disgruntled he finishes his food in silence.

What time does in get dark GM?

It's stsrting to get dark now. Full dark in about half an hour.

"Kraz thinks we should just get a room here and start are lookings in the morning. Maybe another pint or 5 is in order?"

He kind of jokingly adds the last part, but you can sense a part of him wants someone to say ok lol..

"I think you have had enough of the ale my friend, but a room would be very welcome. I will also have a light repast of bread, cheese and assorted fruits if you do not mind."

He keeps his eye on the merchant all this while.

Listening to Sorin and Jhaele she moans "Oooo....the tower is twisted but why? Have they not squares but only the shadows of squares, I wonder...mmm." she wrings and twists the lower part of her robe like a wet rag. "What of the men there, are they men or only the shadows of men? Where is this Loquacious little bird...and will she squawk for a bite of that bread, Jack? Oooo..."

Jhaele looks over her shoulder and cocks an eyebrow at Nilelane as she bustles into the kitchen...

I'll leave it up to you folks whether or not you want to keep interacting with the staff or patrons - completely up to you whether you want to explore the social dynamics of the Old Skull or cut to the chase :)

Just to recap, the NPCs in the taproom include:

When Jhaele returns Sorin attempts to clarify for Nilelane. ”I think my friend was asking about a bard, Llewellyn. Do know you where we may find this person?”

Smoothing the cloth on her gi, she stands and walks over to Jack and Kraz ”So for tomorrow. Do you guys want to head to this Warden or look for work elsewhere?”

Sorin: Jhaele snorts. "That frilly-sleeved fool? When you want him, he'll be nowhere to be seen, when you don't, he'll be following you like a stray dog, nattering till your ears bleed. So I guess my best advice is, hope that you don't see him. Then he'll be sure to turn up. Seems to work for me." She picks up a tray of drinks for the men-at-arms (again), and as she walks off you hear her mutter, "Loquacious? Should call himself Llewellyn the Vexatious..."

It seems Jhaele doesn't have a terribly high opinion of the bard, Llewellyn.

Jack looks over at Nilelane and shakes his head.

"Sorry little one, the bird has flown away and there is naught in the shadows but I. Now come and eat, we need to discuss our future."

He turns back to Sorin and speaks.

"Well I suppose the warden is the best choice to find a viable contract...but perhaps other avenues of funding may show themselves..."

At this point, the door of the inn bursts open, and in steps an unlikely pair. In walks Hyne Bestil, the farmer you met on the way into town. Beside him, gesticulating grandiosely as he finishes a bizarre tale of gladiatorial combat between a small boy with a sling and a fearsome half-orc, stands a man of flamboyant style and little color sense. Wearing an oversized coat of many colors (and even more numerous pockets), a large, plumed ranger's hat of maroon, ballooning orange pantaloons, knee-high eel-skin boots, and a bandolier of small scroll cases, trinkets, knives, and tiny, flutish instruments, he appears to be a bard, intermittently strumming a mandolin to punctuate his tale. Without pausing for a breath or to collect the thoughts that apparently spew forth unencumbered from his mind, he immediately loses interest in Hyne and turns enthusiastically towards you, the group of newcomers to Shadowdale.

"Gods above, what do we have here? Travellers, adventurers, seekers of knowledge, of experiences, and no doubt of wealth as well. Cousins, friends, and compatriots in the great circus of life, I am most certainly the man you seek, or the man you would seek if you only knew the treasures I possess. Not the mere mundane treasure of cold metal and gleaming rock, but one more precious and made more precious still depending on who possesses it. Facts, figures, information, and innuendo are mine. Paths, directions, tales, and explanations bow to my command of language and explication, for I am Llewellyn the Loquacious, rumormonger and bard par excellance, and I have rumors for sale. Occasionally known as Llewellyn the Loud (for reasons that quite escape me) and, by jealous and petty detractors, as Llewellyn the Liar, you see that I am nothing if not completely honest, and it is quite clear that I am most definitely something." With that he strums a triumphal chord on his lute, and makes a deep, sweeping bow. He straightens, beaming at you all, and you get the sense he is awaiting your inevitable applause.

Well. What do we all make of that?

after a moments silence Beerg begins a clap that doesn't appear to catch on and it dissipates as quickly as it started. He turns back to the bar, somewhat willingly, perhaps due to embarrassment but perhaps to break the awkwardness... Looking at Jhaele
Is there a wedding tonight?
another moments pause and before she can answer, and may have another one of those ales please?

Jhaele pours Beerg another pint of ale. "No, no wedding. There was a funeral today though. I expect we'll see some of those that attended making their way up here soon." She fixes her disapproving gaze on Llewellyn.

Kraz turns at the sound of noise.

perc: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

He looks a bit confused by the outburst and the comment heard. He turns back towards Jhaele.

"Who died?"

Sorin moves over to Nilelane ”Oh good, Llewelyn the Bard has arrived. Excellent! This should be fun!” Entertainers were an unknown sight in the temple. This would be Sorin’s first experience with a bard and she was greatly looking forward to it.

Jhaele’s opinion is already known to Sorin, so she chooses to ignore the grumbling in liue of watching the show.

Jack's smile is somewhat fixed, and never reaches his eyes. His hand moves over to his sword, as he takes in this fool. Such people were dangerous and could never be trusted, as the Zhents use these travelling idiots as a source of information. He would have to be very careful around this Llewellyn.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
Insight: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

Kraz and Beerg:
Jhaele shakes her head. "A young guardsman, Frandor Apseed. The official word is that he disappeared on patrol. There's something a bit weird about it all though. His body was never found. Poor lad."

Sorin and Nilelane:
Seeing a captive audience, Llewellyn leans in to the two women, strumming an inquisitive chord on the lute as he does so. "Good eve to you ladies. Can I interest you in my wares? As mentioned previously, I have treasures that you won't find elsewhere. I have rumors for all types, for all colours of coin. And for two as pretty as you, I will throw in, free of charge, a trio of tunes, odes to your beauty that I am just now composing in my head. Rumors for sale, I say, rumors for sale!"

”You are fantastic! So vibrant and exciting. “ smiling ear to ear she leans forward closer to Lewellyn and whispers ”Are the rumors part of the show?” she leans back pulls a silver piece out of her pouch. ”Oh please good sir, tell me of one of those rumors!” She hands the bard a silver piece and reaches for her ale. Leaning over to Nilelane ”This place is great.”

Clasping Sorin on the shoulders looking deadly serious "Such majesty will persist through the ages." turning to Lle skeptically "Hmmmmm, how much for just a false rumor...?" coughing up a copper coin from thin air...

Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

...but she fumbles the presentation badly, and it sails across the room, landing in Kraz' fresh pint with a *plink*.

Kraz had been watching the talks till the coin comes flying into his ale, which he isn't supposed to have but somehow managed to acquire.

"Wow, what a great trick Miss elf lady friend! Kraz couldn't do that in 10 tries."

He leans over towards Beerg and whispers..

"What was the eld ladies name again? Kraz has a hard time with names."