Threeshades's Tyranny of Dragons

Game Master Threeshades

This may be a disconnect and I don't want to screw up continuity? Who told you anything about us? We have literally just arrived in the town at the beginning of the attacks - is this a misunderstanding or a correct statement? If its a correct statement then I'll need to follow up on that as its really suspicious

Yes, it is absolutely suspicious that I know anything about any of you. Of course I might just be assuming based on what I know about -one- of you. Or things that I used to know but have now twisted beyond recognition as my memory was purged and brainwashed by forces beyond your ken. Or I'm just messing with you and don't actually know anything and I'm just trying to make conversation. You don't think that I'm Eziel, or anyone that was ever seen around him, but my face is hidden and a lot things are happening, so it's hard to be sure. Or none of these and it's something else entirely. ;-)

You lead the commoners through the cellar up into the guard house and out into the ward. Evendur being at the point of the whole procession is the first to see Governor Nighthill, visibly impressed, as dozens of virtually unharmed villagers pour into the courtyard.

"Praise Chauntea- and Kelemvor," he nods to Evendur. "You more than earned a reward for this feat."

It was not accomplished alone - my companions also deserve credit but I have concerns as to one of those rescued who claim to have heard of us before we even arrived - not sure if this is empty wind bagging or something more sinister.

I walk up to where the cleric and the Governor are talking and put a hand to my breast in mock terror. "Oh my. One among us is not as they seem? Who could that be?"

I pantomime looking around in panic, trying to found some attacker.

"Let us pray something more sinister is not afoot! Truly, noble hero, thou wilt save a poor damsel in distress as myself from the terrors of the night!

I am..."

I look the cleric full in the face and pull back my hood.

"...mostly harmless."

Hutch entered the room as the hooded figure lowered her hood. Seeing who it was he dropped his halberd, his face showing his shock.

Sophie.. he said, blood draining from his face. Tears welled up around his eyes as he saw her, recalling how the two met. He saw their wedding day in his mind.

NO! part of his mind said. She is dead. Kill the impostor!

A battle rose within his mind, trying to figure out what to do. He stood there for several seconds, before his shock was replaced by anger. The nightmare came back to him, and his eyes turned harsh. Drawing his short sword in a flash, he pointed the blade to Sophie's throat. He looked at the blade, seeing her reflection in its well polished surface, and cursed himself for not going for the dagger.

She is dead, I saw her die. This can't be her. he thought to himself, presenting his anger to hide his sadness and fear.

Behind his harsh eyes, guilt flashed. What if it is her?I failed to save her in the end. She could be a ghost come back to haunt me for my failures and my fall. Or some wizard I angered could have brought her back to torment me for the rest of my presumably short life. Did I fight a wizard? Why did you die Sophie

IMPOSTOR! he shouted with murderous rage. A single tear ran down his face remembering how she died. Tell me who you really are and I won't make your death as agonizing as possible!

She is dead, she has to be or..

Sophie, unperturbed at the sharp steel pointed at her throat, slinks forward slowly. A hand gently pushes the sword away and her arms come up, trying to embrace the paladin.
"Oh, baby, hush, hush there. Don't you remember me? Don't you remember the day we met? You ordered a joint of venison meat and a leathern jack of spiced ale. You said I had a pretty smile. After my shift we went to the Leaping Stag and you got me drunk on brandy-wine. You carried me home and put me to bed like a gentleman.

Of course, we met again and you were...not quite a gentleman. Do you remember our wedding night? You pulled off my white chiffon dress and told me how you got that scar on your inner thigh that's almost as long as your--"
Full, lush eyelashes gaze up from a beautiful almond-shaped face. "Do I need to go on?"

Payn turns away and steps lightly away from Hutch, her hips sway in an hypnotic manner no human physiology could manage. "Of course then The Chill killed me and you just left, leaving them to do whatever they wanted with my body. So, I guess, technically, you're just taking advantage of that whole 'Till death do us part' thing."

I failed her... no... no

Sophie... Hutch growled, his anger gone at her voice. You died, I watched you... I waited for days, doing nothing until your casket was buried. I begged the church for their aid and they did nothing. I only left because you were dead, I...

In an instant the anger returned. I never took advantage of 'Till death do us part!' But it seem you don't know me as well as you thought impostor. I have never betrayed the real Sophie!

Despite his statement, his blade hand remains down as if it was being held down by a force the mercenary could not fight against..

The Chill killed her? How? Why? No they wouldn't. They didn't know about me

I can only imagine how the others are reacting to this madness. I mean The mighty Mercenary taken down by a Tiefling, and not putting up a real fight.

Sophie's face blushes deeply under Hutch's verbal tirade. Her hand goes up to her bare arm and start kneading the flesh--tightly. Her fingernails dig into her bicep and blood starts to flow. She seems to take pleasure as the blood spills.
"You snore. You talk in your sleep, but only about battles that never happened and flowers you've never seen. You don't drink wine with anything spicy. You avoid wearing the color red because you want the blood of your enemies to show up clearly. You got me flowers for our one-month anniversary but we didn't know I was allergic to honeysuckle so we spent the day at Doctor Ionia's while I thought I was some kind of hummingbird COWARD!"

She stops tearing at her arm and turns toward Hutch, her eyes bloodshot. "The Hutch that -I- knew was a good man who would NEVER abandon me!! You left when my body was cold and JOINED THE PEOPLE THAT KILLED ME!!

What happened to you? Where are all the high-minded ideals? Where is the man I once knew?"

Sophie calms down. Her breathing slows, almost stops. "You accuse me of being an impostor because YOU are the impostor. You are caping about in the form of Hutch though that's a man you've never met. You're wearing his body and using his voice, but you are a demon, come to wreak havoc on mortals.

But you're still there."

Hutch dropped the Drake head and his sword. The Drake head rolled around him, stopping as it hit the Halberd shaft. The sword short scattered across the ground.

Sophie, it is you... Hutch said, another tear running down his face. I didn't know.... I didn't know they killed you, I didn't know they had anything to do with you. I won't rest until the monsters who hurt you are dead by my blade.

I am Hutch. The temple was the traitor. They didn't help you, I tried. I... When ever I fought I did it in your name.

Hutch drops to his knees his head lowered.

...

"What exactly is going on?", Zillyanna whispers and pokes Venali, confused.

You're a demon...

Hutch was sent back to his most basic training, where he was taught demons were beyond redemption. He thought about his actions, working with the Chill. He had been sent on missions against bandits, and did it with joy. Am I really a demon?

His mind went to the way the church turned him down. How the people he had trusted betrayed him. No. I tried my best to save her. It was the church that betrayed her, and betrayed me. It was the fault of the gods.

He lifted his head meeting Sophie's eyes. I have changed Sophie. I no longer believe in the lies I once did. If the Chill did kill you, say the word and I will destroy those monsters. First though, I need to kill off the demons who invaded this town. And I would like your help.

Sophie kneels down, cradling Hutch's head. Her soft kisses grace his head and the firm, round mounds of her chest nuzzle against him. "Shhhhh. I know...I know. But there is a price to pay. You have been sold the deed of sale and the bill is now come due. He that raised me, Lord Borak the Despoiler, is a terrible being of vast power and unknowable intelligence. He has defiled me in every way conceivable, all so that the Chill might be granted its due. You are as a grain against the whirlwind, and he has little pity for challengers.

Perhaps, in time...." She leans down. Her tears moisten his hair. A heartbeat passes.

And then the moment is done. She rises and speaks, her soft hands smoothing the front of her leather armor.

"But for now. Yes. I am come to shadow you. As this town is thy crusade, so now is it mine. 'Tis in the interest of friends in common that this town does not fall to them that besiege it."

She looks at Hutch with head lowered and hair hanging softly. A wry grin of old crosses her face. (Pretty much as the alias pic is }=-] "I am thine to command, warrior. What would you have of me?"

Hutch glances at his companions. You up for driving these invading monsters out? I know Sophie and I will regardless. After all there are few stronger than me. Now that Sophie is here nothing will stop me.

He nods to Sophie. For what Lord Borak did to you the Chill will pay thousand fold. When I encounter him he will pay, and if I am feeling nice maybe I will give his subordinates his head. You have my word.

Hutch grabs his Halberd and Drake head. Mayor I want this head stuffed before the night is done. After all we will be killing and driving off the cultists.

After this exchange the governor has to shake off a slight stupor. "Yes, yes! Of course, I will have someone see to it." - "Perhaps you wall may want to take a moment's respite, while I and Father Falconmoon get all these people settled in. Far as I can tell, there is no urgent business to take care of for you right now." he continues as he approaches the priest.

Sophie pouts prettily, her mouth forming a perfect semi-circle. "Awwww. It looks like we won't be able to kill anything tonight. Worst. War zone. Ever."

Also Sophie and Hutch, have some Inspiration please.

Don't worry Sophie. We could exit the tunnel and go kill some people. I know there are patrols of cultists and mercenaries outside. Hutch says nonchalantly.

He holds his Halberd with discust. Maybe I can find a less tainted weapon among whom ever decides to tangle with us.

He gives an expectant look to his companions.

But before that.. Hutch says, lowers his chain mail to his waist, tossing off his red shirt from the Chill Uniform. He then slides his chain mail back up, his many scars visible through the armor.

I won't need that ever again.

A 'Short Rest' is taken by the priest.

D8: 1d8 ⇒ 4

Sorry for the absence, and again for the awkward post on coming back. I'll try and get something else up later in the day.

As Venali enters the governor's chamber and hears talk of reward, "Now is not the time to think of such matters, not while there are still raiders stealing anything of worth they can find. But, thank you, Governor. I only hope we can help more as the night goes on." He then visibly slumps and makes his way to a chair, forgetting all pomp and good manners as he plops down onto it exhausted.

As Zillyanna pokes him he winces a bit before replying, "If I had to guess from the way they are talking to each other, I'd say they were married."

Venali tosses the scimitar he was still carrying to Hutch's feet as he commented on wanting a non-tainted weapon.

"Yes, I think a rest might be for the best right now. I don't suppose there is room in the barracks/b] He stands and gives Sophie a quizzical look before turning towards Zillyanna. [b]"Maybe we can find you a more private room somewhere, though with the villagers we brought here that might be hard."

Short rest: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Hutch gives a glance at the scimitar. No thank you good elf. As Sophie can probably attest I am far better with polearms than other weapons. If you all need rest I won't stop you. Though I would much prefer carving a path through these scaly worshipers.

He looks to Sophie. They can be quite decent, though I doubt their spines at times. It... It is good you are back. I won't let anything like this happen again. I'll destroy everything single handedly if that's what it takes. But I would prefer to start with this cult who trapped you I'm a church, the Chill, and this Borak.

He looks to the shirt on the floor. All my life has been dedicated to either the Chill or The church of Helm, and they both betrayed me. Neither of them shall live

I'm going to need a new symbol. he thinks aloud.

No worries, glad you are ok

Welcome back :)

"So even Mr. Mercenary can find love, eh?", she chuckles, before nodding to Venali and looking around in seach of a private room or less cramped space to rest.

"Oh, by the way", she says, quickly turning to the tiefling, "I'm Zillyanna, nice to meet you"

I guess healing 1 point of damage is not worth it

As the others bunker down, Sophie eases her shapely form onto the ground. As Venali inquires after her privacy, she stretches languorously and replies, "Hmmmmm, thank you for your worry, but, my...recent changes have made me less concerned with such frivolities."

She grins knowingly as Hutch starts making an august list of victims. "I see your sense of hubris remains unchanged. Hee, that's good, but please cease thy talk of charging in to slay every member of the Chill. You know better than most that their legions would assist your suicide with speed and pleasure.
We must needs fortify ourselves with power and riches, perhaps to hire a company of sell-swords ourselves, before such lofty goals come within reach."

Sophie acknowledges the Elf's salutations. "A pleasure, Zillyanna. As you may know, I am Sophie, though of late person of interest have taken to calling me a "Payn"--but the exact reasons escape me." Sophie idly rubs the self-inflicted clotted scars on her arm. "So, who are you sexing here? The cleric? The mage? The...paladin? It's fine, of course, I just don't want to step on any toes."

Hutch looks at Sophie's suggestion of Zillyanna with mild horror. Not me. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the mage. You should know along with my 'hubris' comes loyalty.

Hutch twirls the Halberd with relative ease, though he gives the weapon a look of disgust. A company? Hmm. I am a one man army myself. But you are right. They have to many even for me. But they will fall. Sophie, as long as you have known me I have been in two treacherous organizations. I have decided to take a step forward and create one that won't betray you or I.

He thinks for a minute, then looks at the group. As of this moment I am starting the Drake's Head Mercenary group. You can all join since I trust you.

Raising her eyebrowns, Zillyanna pokes Venali again and whispers.

"Ehh...What does sexing mean?"

With a slight bit of color tinging his cheeks he whispers back, "I believe she is asking whom among us you are having... relations with."

At Hutch's suggestion of joining his new group, "Provided we take only contracts which aren't disreputable, and which will not get in the way of my quest... I would be willing to join your band."

I am Kelemvors' no pact or contract will change that - but if we are agreed on doing the common good then I would have no problems lending aid to your ventures

The current business model is taking on the Chill, Borak and this cult here. I don't plan on being some hero, but I can agree on not taking jobs the Chill would, like killings, or town assaults. As for your quest Venali, I can work it in. Hutch says with a glance to Sophie.

Kelemvor is all fine and good, but no Helm. Despite popular belief they aren't there to save you, and instead betray you when you need them most. He replies to Evendur.

He then turns to Sophie. Would you be opposed to joining, my infernal lady he says using his old nickname for her with a smile. Also I have decided you may be right, the Chill's numbers are vast. I should settle for a more manageable number. How about one of them per day they kept us apart. Let's see... Eight years. 365 days per year. That is what... 2800 some odd chill soldiers?

Sophie maintains her relaxed posture, her body a low-frequency sine-wave along the floor. She favors Hutch with a cherry ice cream smile from full lips.
"Oh of course my liege. Thy will, my hands. Indeed I can see a certain satisfaction in mirroring our future success here. If we learn that the Chill is about to assault a town, would it not enrich both purse and spirit to offer services to the town in its defense? Consider that."

Sophie spritely clambers to her feet and looks about. "Are each of us quite refreshed and ready to once more unto the breech go? 'Twill be difficult enough to reap rich spoils and just vengeance if we just sit about, entertaining as this is.

To where hath out employer gone?"

I think he went to find someone to stuff the Drake head. And yes if we can work against the Chill I will enjoy it. And the money will always be helpful. Then again you have always been the smart of the two of us Sophie, Hutch replies with a smile. I was just thinking about forming a mercenary group to give the Chill a force to fear. And yes I know they will fear the two if us more than the group when we attack but I want them in constant fear.

Hutch nods when Sophie asks if everyone is ready. He does a quick series of stretches and Halberd sound, with a new purpose in mind.

Let's drive these cultists out. Let's see if you guys can keep up with the body count Sophie and I will create.

Zillyanna shrugs.

"I guess we can work togheter for a while."

She stands against a wall and taps her foot while waiting for everyone to be ready or for something to happen.

Seeing that no one seemed inclined to rest outside of the governor's office Venali sat back down in one of the chairs, pulling his spellbook out to study for a short time.

Kelemvor is all fine and good, but no Helm. Despite popular belief they aren't there to save you, and instead betray you when you need them most. He replies to Evendur.

The will of the Gods is not always apparent to some but the evidence of Kelemvors role in the world of sentient beings is always before me. He walks with me as I comfort the widowed and the orphaned and the bereft. He is my hands in laying out and preparing the dead for burial and he guides my blade against the undead that the corruption that they represent may be cleansed from the world.

I will pray for you.

As you finish your rest, Governor Nighthill approaches you once again, a look of worry on his face: "The guards have spotted a new threat. Raiders are trying to set fire to the town's mill. If it burns, we'll lose our stockpile of flour and we won't be able to grind more for months." he looks behind him, at the red-haired dwarf, who is carrying a cache of spears and swords, talking to a few guards: "I'm trying to assemble enough defenders from here in the keep to defend it through the rest of the night, but that will take time. You'd do us a great service, if you could get to the mill quickly and drive away the raiders, before they can set it a flame. You'll need ti defend it until out force arrives to take over, but it shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes behind you."

Evendur frowns.

Its one thing to save some civilians but I don't like how we are now their 'go-to team to do suicide missions for them, he thinks.

I will let my companions judge on the task you have laid out.

It sounds like a trap. Hutch states. If I were going to attack a mill, it would be to lure people out while I hide a giant force near by. Then again, if these cultists are as weak as the ones with my glorious trophy they made one mistake. They forgot Sophie and I were here. What do ya say, ready to kill some fools?

"I don't think they are that smart, Mr. Mercenary, but i can sneak ahead and check for it, just in case.", she pauses, looking at the robes and scimitars they looted earlier. "...Or should we pretend to be cultists like last time?"

Sophie both scoffs and smiles at Hutch. "Bah, you think everything's a trap. The odds that an invading army would attack an objective and keep a large force busy -not- attacking another objective just to ambush a force that may or may not come to save that objective is a bit wonky.

Just like old times."

Hutch laugh heartily. I have been right before. But yes like old times. Though we are going to need to keep score to figure out who the bread winner is Sophie. I say we start that now.

Hutch picks up his short sword, sliding it back into his sheath. He spins the Halberd, still hoping to find a better polearm among his enemies.

"There is wisdom in what master Calrin says. Nonetheless I cannot risk our stocks going up in flames." the Governor chimes in "In any case, I 've had this small chache of potions prepared for you." He waves a guardsman to his side, who is holding a small crate, 5 bottles inside. "They will provide care for your wounds, should you need it. Should you need some equipment, I will give you access to my armory, but I ask you to be expedient about it."

The crate contains 5 potions of healing. If you agree to look at the armory, he will show you there

If I may take a look at the armory, Hutch says, strangely polite, That would be very helpful

General plan is to replace the polearm, and maybe pick up a Bow or crossbow.

Sophie nods and takes a potion, depositing it in her pocket, and follows Hutch to the Armory.

An upgrade to Studded Leather would not be amiss. =)

Nighthill leads you to the armory within the guardhouse. The place isn't large and fairly cramped, but the stock is still quite versatile.

You can find any weapon up to 25 gp/piece in value and armor up to 75 gp in value here. You may take up to two items, and can not go above 75 gp total value with your choices.
In addition to the qualifying weapons from the PHB you can also find sabers (identical to rapiers, but deal slashing damage), estoc (identical to longswords but deal piercing damage) and arming swords (identical to longswords but are light, rather than versatile); you are proficient with sabers and estocs if you are proficient with rapiers or longswords and you are proficient with arming swords if you are proficient with longswords.

In addition you can replenish any spent ammunition

Zillyanna splits the potions between the five of them while they walk up to the armory. She refills her quiver with arrows and takes a few of the weapons in the armory, testing their balance and pondering before deciding on a saber and a shortsword.

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing those untill Greenest is safe", she leaves the scimitar that was looted from the cultists, casually throwing it on the floor, "You can have this one", and then carefully puts her rapier on a table, closing her eyes for a second, "And please keep this one untill i come back for it"

After quickly adjusting the sheathed weapons so she can have easy access to any of them, she nods to the other four with a smile.

Sophie winds her way between the racks of plate and suits of chain, walking up to a rack with a few hauberks of boiled leather riddled with metal studs.
Uncaring of the presence of others, she peels herself out of leather armor down to the brief silk chemise, dropping the old suit on the ground. She then clasps on the black studded leather suit.

To round out her shopping, she grabs a rapier. Its a solid weapon with beaten blued-steel and slight curves. It has a grip softened with glued sharkskin and crushed peridot glistens along the hilt.

She hangs the sword on her weapon belt and stands before the party. "Shall we?"

Hutch drops his Halberd picking up a long spear same statistics and I don't remember the price of a pike. He spins the spear around several times, getting a feeling for its weight.

This should do. Hutch said, holding the spear over his shoulder.

Let's go

The warrior priest stands silently as the others prepare, brooding, before nodding and leaving with the group.

Ill be likely saying burial rites over those who leave on this mission, he thinks.

Hutch runs back quickly, replacing the spear with a Halberd from the armory. He also grabbed a crossbow and twenty bolts before running to the front of the group.