"Well, we rest first, then head for the Scriptorium, right? How far is it? Remember we have a target on our back..."
The Chaptermistress points to a map of the city drawn nearby.
"The Scriptorium is a short distance away, here in Vrail Keep. I suspect the young sage with the dire splinter has the credentials to get in, but if necessary I can loan you one of ours."
It's a short walk- 15 minutes or so- and an even shorter carriage ride.
Zukhan, who had been mostly silent up until this point, pipes up.
"If you lot are going to the library, I can stay and keep an eye on Spiragos' artifacts with the knights. A stuffy library isn't exactly my speed anyways..."
"Very well, we should head to the scriptorium without delay. If we entrust the artifacts to you, are you willing to accept all responsibility for their protection, or the consequences of failing to protect them?"
Raho meets Heroiel's eye.
"I swear by the Avenger's sword that we shall guard these artifacts so long as they are entrusted to us. Will you swear by your Gods to see them destroyed?"
Would my Sage background give me any familiarity with this Cestarian fellow? Or about the library in general?
It would! In fact, anyone from Fangsfall knows that the Bibliothecis is the advisor to Lord Vrail and a powerful mage in his own right. Cestarian is an elf, so it's difficult to say how old he is, and has held the position for as long as Killian Vrail has been Duke of Fangsfall. Where he came from before that is a matter of conjecture.
While the scriptorium pales in comparison to the storied Library of Lokil in the Ukrudan Desert many many miles to the northeast of Fangsfall, it is the largest collection of texts on the Peninsula and is presided over by a head librarian appointed by Cestarian the Wise. Zdravko has been there to copy texts on lens making and astronomy and he knows how the place is laid out.
I will be out of town from tomorrow (Thursday) - Sunday for the second of three weddings this year. I may be able to post if I have time, but that's the reason for the silence if I'm not.
Raho glances at the knight standing at the silver sword, who shakes her head curtly.
"Our library holds little on the subject- most of what we have are religious texts, war manuals, treatises on metallurgy, things like that. But the Bibliothecis' scriptorium in Vrail Keep is the most extensive library on the Peninsula- it's most likely that Cestarian the Wise has something of use for us there."
The knights politely gloss over Zdravko's outburst, listening closely to the party's remarks and observations.
At the sight of the Dagger and Ring, the knights frown in disgust.
"The genuine articles, no doubt. The Gauntlet will be a challenge for another day- in its current state, nothing will be able to use it as anything other than a ravine."
Raho faces you all, leaning on the table with her fists.
"I will not lie to you- our resources are presently stretched thin assisting with peacekeeping in Fangsfall and resettlement efforts for refugees fleeing Virduk's aggression. Therefore, we must rely upon your capable hands to carry out the destruction of these Titan obscenities. But first we must know how to destroy them- and that may take some time. My recommendation is that we store these in our cellars, under guard, while research is conducted."
"You mentioned that you have been attacked several times- if you feel your lodgings are not safe, I can offer you space in our barracks until the time comes that we may destroy the artifacts. What say you?"
Raho nods.
"Of course- it is our duty to destroy them. But first we must discover how and I understand that may take a bit of time. I would like to first verify that you do indeed have the relics of Spiragos- from there, we can research what is required to destroy them and make a plan to do so."
"First thing's first- you have the Gauntlet, the Dagger and the Ring?"
The squire gives Heroiel a quizzical look before noticing his Chardunite holy symbol and going frosty. He reads the letter from the Canon and is much friendlier to Brother Theodor.
Fortunately for the cleric, no one on the street looks familiar nor does he get the sense that anyone wishes the party harm.
"Attacked, you say? This is very serious. I can't leave my post here at the door, but you should head right in. Chaptermistress Raho's office is at the end of the main hall, straight back. Don't worry- there's no safer place in Fangsfall.", he says, pulling open the stout iron-banded door.
Within is a long hall hung with banners and tapestries. On your left is a courtyard of well-groomed grass and a statue of Corean the Avenger in the center, holding aloft the unfinished blade he used to slay the titan Thulkas, the titan's anvil at his feet. Several acolytes and squires sit on benches before the statue while a priest lectures to them about history. Past an archway facing the courtyard is what looks to be a mess hall and kitchen, with a dormitory on the opposite side.
At the end of the main hall is another stout door, likely the Chaptermistress' chamber. After a knock on the door, you're bid to enter by a stern male voice. Within is a sitting room with tasteful but spartan furnishings, finely-tailored banners and religious relics adorning the walls. In the center of the room is a large darkwood table with Corean's holy symbol carved in the top, each sword inlaid with the appropriate metal- iron, silver, gold and mithril. Three grizzled male knights and the Chaptermistress herself are seated at the table, the Chaptermistress sitting at the mithril sword position.
The Chaptermistress is a neat, precise middle-aged woman with black hair streaked with iron grey and worn in a tight braid. While the flush of youth has faded, her olive-green eyes speak to her wisdom and grace. She rises from the table along with the other three knights.
"You must be the adventurers the Bibliothecis said were coming. I am Sempronia Raho, Chaptermistress of the Mithril Knights. Close the door behind you, if you would, and we'll discuss this Spiragos situation."
You all run back out of the alley, seeking a different route to Four Swords Lane and the Mithril Chapterhouse. Crowds are unavoidable with Fangsfall being packed to the gills as it is and keep yourselves close together for safety, expecting renewed resistance at every turn.
Fortunately, your flight the Chapterhouse is uneventful and you find the squat fortress-temple in the north of the city, on Four Swords Lane. While you may have expected a sprawling fortress, it's in fact rather small with stout stone walls covered in enameled white plaster. Corean's holy symbol, the "fourfold sword rose" is proudly displayed on either side of the main entrance, the entrance itself being a remnant of the old chateau from which the temple was built. The windows have been refitted to be arrow-slit narrow and the double doors are banded in iron. The temple is small, but it looks to be very defensible.
Much like at the temple of Madriel, there is a line of refugees across the street waiting for aid from the priests and paladins within. A young knight-in-training stands outside of the doors to the temple, wearing a suit of scale mail with a longsword at his side. When you approach the doors, he nods to you.
"Good day, travelers. If you're in need of aid, I'm afraid there's a line today. Unless you're on official business?", he asks.
Just to clarify for future fights (not sure whether you know, but from the description, I would assume no. Slashing flourish lets me do damage to two, despite having hit only one.
-Slashing Flourish. You can expend one use of your Bardic Inspiration to cause the weapon to deal extra damage to the target you hit and to any other creature of your choice that you can see within 5 feet of you. The damage equals the number you roll on the Bardic Inspiration die.
Ah, yes. Thanks- I did forget that aspect of Slashing Flourish. It would not have made a major difference here, but I'll remember for the future.
Since we're doing Theater of the Mind style combat, I'm going to try to rule in favor of the players whenever AOE spells come into play so long as it's reasonable- so Heroiel's shatter can catch Grimey and Creepy.
Shanky deftly rolls under Djal's rapier thrust but the bard buries his dagger in Smelly's chest- the halfling falls to the cobblestone street with a choking gasp.
Shanky is still up, Smelly is dead.
A deafening crack rings out next to Zukhan, splintering window shutters nearby and cracking the cobblestones underfoot.
Grimey growls, shaking his head like a feral animal as blood trickles from his nose. Creepy is bowled over from the concussive sound, his ears bleeding as he hits the ground.
Grimey is still up and takes 7 damage but Creepy is dead.
Zdravko neatly and somewhat casually strikes Shanky, lopping the halfling's head off before the pint sized thug can strike Djal again.
Brother Theodor rushes in to help Djal, but, with Shanky decapitated, he turns to Zukhan's attacker. Grimey's rags manages to cushion the blow of Theodor's spear, preventing injury, but Madriel's radiant weapon delivers a killing blow to the halfling and he slumps to the ground with his comrades.
In a matter of a few vicious seconds the battle is over, even while Fangsfall citizens are fleeing the scene. Each of the halfling carries a dagger that resembles the Dagger of Spiragos and a brace of concealed darts in their rags (20 darts). One of them, Creepy, has a scrap of parchment with hastily drawn portraits of Djal, Brother Theodor and Zukhan with no other writing on it.
But now that Zukhan is back on his game, the Asaathi proves too elusive for the three-foot thugs! He easily deflects their attacks with his own blades.
Growling and cursing like foul-mouthed urchins, Shanky and Smelly continue their assault on Djal as they stab and slash with their replica Daggers of Spiragos!
The japes are a bit too much for Shanky, who slashes at Djal far more ferociously than the bard anticipated! It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye and Djal comes close as the halfling slashes the half-elf's cheek with his sharp little blade! With blood pumps from the wound, Smelly jabs his blade into Djal's thigh!
Critical hit from Shanky- that's 16 damage to Djal and then 8 more damage from Smelly, bringing a total of 24 damage to Djal!
Creepy and Grimey are on Zukhan, Shanky and Smelly are on Djal and just did a ton of damage to him.
Zukhan's blades are a blur, but Grimey dodges quickly aside- his cohort Stabby however is less limber and hits the cobblestones in a gout of blood.
Stabby is down!
With biting quips and jabbing swords, Djal pokes holes in the halfling's onslaught and wounds more than their pride!
9 damage each to Shanky and Smelly.
Heroiel's firebolt follows the trajectory of Creepy's dagger, slamming into the halfling's chest! His damp rags unfortunately resist being lit on fire, but the beady-eyed footpad yelps in pain!
10 damage to Creepy.
Squared up against Brother Theodor, Cutty doesn't notice Zdravko on the sidelines until it's too late- the scholar dives at the halfling with all of his weight and peevish strength behind his longsword, neatly spearing the little menace!
Cutty is down!
With a jab of his spear and a prayer to the Redeemer (and a jab from Her spear), Brother Theodor leaves Bloody looking his namesake. The murderous halfling sways for a moment from the thorough stabbing, taking a shaky step toward the priest before collapsing on the cobbles.
Bloody is down!
Stabby, Cutty and Bloody are dead. Creepy in the back took 10 damage, Shanky and Smelly each took 9 and Grimey is at full health. Grimey is on Zukhan, Shanky and Smelly are on Djal and Creepy remains in the back.
Djal, Zdravko, Heroiel, Brother Theodor and Zukhan walk through the alleyway and follow the blind turn toward where the alley meets up with the thoroughfare again... only to find the path blocked with two horse carts, parked perfectly to prevent passage.
DM Screen:
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
A shrill whistle pierces through the din of the plaza behind you. A few seconds later, a gang of filthy-looking halflings slip out of doors, down rainspouts and up from sewer grates. All of them bear spider tattoos and vicious looking black blades bearing a strange resemblance to the Dagger of Spiragos!
Other Fangsfall citizens that had the same idea to take the alley or were simply minding their own business stare wide-eyed or back away as the seven filthy halflings advance upon you!
Party Initiative:1d20 ⇒ 1
Initiative Round One
Halflings- 13
Zukhan- 6 (w/+2 Wis from Dread Ambusher)
Djal, Heroiel- 4
Zdravko, Brother Theo- 3
The halflings advance on your party far faster than you expected! Scarcely before your blades could leave their scabbards, the filthy little monsters are stabbing and slashing at you with their replica Daggers.
In unison, two halflings attack Zukhan, Brother Theo and Djal while the seventh throws a dagger at Heroiel!
Caught off-guard in the bustling city, Zukhan's attackers (Stabby and Grimey) deal a serious blow to the asaathi, cutting him with their wicked looking blades!
8 damage to Zukhan.
Brother Theo manages to use his armor to his advantage, deflecting stabs from Cutty and Bloody with his mail and shield.
Djal dances easily aside as Shanky tries to drive his blade into the bard's ribs, a swift kick to the halfling's wrist sending the blade clattering to the cobblestones while his comrade, Smelly, slashes at the space Djal used to occupy.
The dagger flies past Heroiel from where Creepy threw it from the halflings' back rank, a fleeing citizen wailing in pain as the blade buries itself in the man's flank!
Okay! Zukhan, Djal and Brother Theo are all in melee with two halflings apiece and Creepy, the seventh, is a scant 20 feet ahead clinging to a drain- spout! Post your actions!
"A mere rotten tomato, gentlemen, does not a riot make! Come now, this is all part of the performing arts and surely that jester expects nothing less! Even if the old dear was a bit splattered, it was good for a laugh was it not?"
Djal's Persuasion:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
The guard nods, a little guiltily. And his companions chuckle.
"Aye... 'twas good for a laugh, it's true. Alright! You keep moving, lad, and we'll sweep this all under the rug."
The guards resume trying to get the crowd moving out of the plaza.
Take the quicker route through the alley or wait for the crowd to disperse? Or start an actual riot?
Zdravko's rotten tomato falls short of the mark, striking a wealthy dowager in the back of the head. The old woman squawks like a bird herself as much of the crowd turns to look back toward the party.
GM Screen:
1d20 ⇒ 15
"You there! Stop where you are!", bellows a guardsman roughly 50 feet away on the edge of the crowd. He and his three comrades start pushing through the crowd toward Zdravko, leather truncheons at the ready.
Heroiel, Brother Theodor and Zukhan cautiously enter the alleyway. It's strewn with trash and discarded bottles, but it seems like foot traffic comes through here. The alley takes a sharp right turn about 20 feet ahead, making it impossible to see how much further this route leads without pressing forward. Behind you, you can hear a disturbance growing in the crowd.
Djal doesn't note any magic within 30 feet of him besides Theodor's spear, the Dagger and the Ring.
You're at the far end of the plaza from the speaker, with crowds of people between you and them- if they had used magic, it was too far away to detect for certain.
You march back up the hill from the docks, toward Vrail Keep and the surrounding neighborhoods. Progress is slow until you switch to a longer route through side streets and narrow alleys, criss-crossing the tangled streets of Fangsfall.
Anyone that lives in Fangsfall is at least somewhat familiar with Corean's Mithril Knights- they were instrumental in Killian Vrail's accidental coup, as the order of paladins were in Lord Vrail's entourage in his flight from Rahoch when that city fell to the Calastian Hegemony's expansion. While Corean's faith is now the official religion of Fangsfall, most citizens just shrugged at the announcement and continued their own worship of Enkili (or Manawe, the goddess of the sea). Nonetheless, the knights have steadily eradicated some of the more flagrant corruption in the government and never shirk from a humanitarian cause, despite their small numbers.
DM Screen:
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
In a plaza ahead of you, a mass of people have gathered around a fountain where a figure in a jester's approximation of royal finery addresses the gathered folk. What's most fascinating is that the figure's face, neck and exposed skin are all thoroughly feathered, with a long beak like a heron protruding from their face. With a wave of a scepter hung with pennants it announces:
"Fair folk and foul, friends and foes, flabbergasted, fecund or felonious, one and all here in Fangsfall it is my- and by my I mean our- fierce and trembling pleasure to announce that the Carnival of Shadows shall impose its transformative delights upon your fair Fangsfall in the coming days! In a blink of an eye, toothsome citizens, you shall find delight and entertainment and for the daring the means to acquire your hearts' desires. Shutter not your windows, gnash not your fangs for our delights are for the pious and the heretical alike!", they announce to the suddenly hushed and enraptured crowd before all at once, as if a spell is broken, the crowd of citizens, refugees, tradesmen and guards all at once begin to talk over each other.
There's no way you're crossing this plaza quickly. The side street on your right seems to offer a faster means of egress.
You depart from the Chapel of Madriel with the artifacts in tow. Djal makes an excuse that he "forgot his gloves" but the rest of you see him talk to Sister Bernice outside for a moment. You don't overhear what's said but the Sister blushes like a schoolgirl and Djal returns whistling.
Okay- who's carrying which relic and are you headed straight to Four Swords Lane, cashing your check at the House Asuras compound, headed to the Scriptorium for researching or whatever else?
Brother Theodor is stunned. He has heard the stories of the Curate and this spear. He knows it holds potent magic and perhaps is even touched with the essence of Madriel.
"Your Grace...I do not know what to say! You honour me with such a gift and I shall endeavour to be worthy of such a weapon!"
He reaches for the spear and is a little surprised that it does not burst into light or something as he holds it. In fact, it feels much like his old spear...maybe a little better balanced and lighter, but nothing mystical or spiritual occurs with his handling the weapon. Still, he is overwhelmed with the gift and falls to his knees and thanks Madriel for watching over him and this group.
Super awesome...thanks!!!
The Curate grasps Brother Theodor by the shoulder.
"It is very well deserved. Wield it with pride and bring the light of the Redeemer wherever you go."
The Curate rises, unlocking a drawer in his desk and penning a quick note of introduction. He pulls out a letter of credit emblazoned in gilt with the human-faced lion crest of House Asuras on the back and fills it out.
"Brother Theodor still has chambers here. Should you need a roof over your heads, you may always return- I'm sure we can lay out some cots up here for you. The Mithril Chapterhouse is on Four Swords Lane, not far from Vrail Keep- so it's a bit of a walk from here."
The Curate puts his signature to each piece of parchment, sprinkling them with sand to dry the ink.
"Here we are. Don't spend it all in one place."
You are handed an introductory letter to the Mithril Knights and a letter of credit for 1,000 gp to be redeemed at the House Asuras Compound here on the docks. The Curate bids you wait another moment before disappearing into his chambers, returning bearing a spear with gold engraving on its head.
"My crusading days are behind me now and I can't say I'll have further use for my old spear. You should take it with you, Theodor- I believe you're far more likely to need it than I.", he says, handing the fine spear to the young priest.
Brother Theo is offered a +1 Spear.
Djal blinks incredulously at the Curate, then at Theodor: "Look. It's been hard; finding and bringing these artefacts here... Can we not leave them to you? I mean, you could go and see the Commander, no? ... Wait. I'm- I apologize. Yes, we will go see the Commander. With the item. After you've given us the letter of change."
The Curate nods.
”I understand your reluctance, but your band is truly the best hope for destroying these tainted items without drawing excessive attention. I imagine the Dame Commander will enlist your aid as well. Our resources must remain dedicated to easing the growing refugee crisis here in Fangsfall and I’ve no doubt that anything the knights of Corean do en masse will be marked by everyone in the city. Your capable hands have brought these things here and I believe you can put an end to the matter, despite the hardship.”
For anyone that wants to explain IC what the deal is with the Dagger and Ring. (I'll add these to the Campaign Info tab as well.)
Dagger of Spiragos:
Weapon (shortsword), rare, requires attunement
You have a +1 bonus to attack rolls and damage rolls for attacks you make with this magic weapon; despite being the size of a typical shortsword, it can be wielded without penalty by anyone proficient with either a shortsword or a dagger. If you apply poison to the weapon, that poison's saving throw DC increases by 2.
Once per day, you can use a bonus action to cause thick, black poison to coat the blade. The poison remains for 1 minute or until you hit a creature with the poisoned weapon. When you hit a creature with the poisoned weapon, the target must make a DC 15 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, the target becomes poisoned for 1 minute and takes 11 (2d10) poison damage.
Ring of Spiragos:
Ring, rare, requires attunement
You must be a druid, sorcerer or warlock to become attuned to this ring.
If you are a druid, then starting at 5th level, you can use your wild shape feature to transform into a giant spider.
If you are a druid, sorcerer or warlock, while you wear this ring you gain the following:
Spells You add bestow curse, spider climb, and web to the list of spells you know or have prepared.
Spider Friend Three times per day, you can cast the charm monster spell (save DC 13) without using any components. This spell targets only spiders, whether the normal or of the giant variety, and monsters that are spider-like in nature.
Virulence Whenever you cast a spell that deals poison damage or imposes the poisoned condition, the saving throw DC of that spell increases by 1, if applicable.
Web Walker You ignore movement restrictions caused by webbing.
"Reward? Is it not...", The Curate sighs. "No, of course, you're right. Forgive me. I can give you a letter of credit to cash with House Asuras, since these are clearly the real Ring and Dagger of Spiragos. Hasdia's made enough donations to the church that we can front this for her."
"I am pleased that you're so eager to get to the bottom of this, young Zdravko. If you're willing to research the means of destruction yourself, that will certainly be of great help. But we cannot keep these artifacts here- there are simply too many people coming in and out of the Chapel to keep them here safely. I would advise speaking the Dame Commander Sempronia Raho at the Chapterhouse of Corean; the knights have a far more defensible and secure location, greater resources and would likely be more than willing to assist in destroying these foul items."
"Oh, you're friends with Brother Theodor! How wonderful!", Sister Bernice says. "Please follow me, he and the rest of your friends are upstairs with the Curate."
Following the young acolyte, you walk through a chapel/converted warehouse that's been made into a makeshift hospital. Much of the ground floor is sectioned off into wards and sleeping areas. At the foot of the stairs, Sister Bernice pulls a rope aside.
"I'm told that the meeting upstairs is sensitive, so I'll let you go up on your own. It was so nice meeting you, take care!", she says before returning to her work outside.
At the top of the stairs there's a heavy set of oak doors, closed for privacy but Heroiel can hear voices inside. When he opens the doors, he finds his traveling companions talking to the Curate- a handsome older man with an olive complexion and very straight posture.
On the table between the Curate and the rest of the party is a serrated short sword made of some kind of blackened metal. Its handle is made of sweat-darkened skin and the tarnished silver pommel is a stylized, twisting spider. Beside the short sword is a ring- a black band shaped like a spider, four of its legs extending around to either side and joining on the opposite side of the wearer's finger. Its eyes are tiny emeralds. Both items feel profane and wrong and being in their presence makes you uneasy. On the road it was easier to justify the feeling as you were on your guard and ready for anything- but here in civilization, a church even, the things make your skin crawl.
Once it's established that Heroiel is known the rest of the group in attendance: Brother Theodor, Djal, Zukhan and Zdravko, the Curate bids the war wizard to take a seat and offers him a cup of strong tea before entreating Brother Theodor and Djal to continue with their tale from the beginning.
In Creagfort, a merchant named Hasdia Meroni of International Exports, Ltd. gave the group a treasure map scrawled with Titan speech indicating that a trio of relics could be found in the Chasm of Flies in the Devil's March. She offered the map freely, suggesting that she would purchase any treasure the party found.
Further research on the map and the symbols therein brought the revelation that the items were known as the Dagger, Gauntlet and Ring of Spiragos the Ambusher, a lesser Titan slain by Vangal during the Divine War. Keeping such dangerous things from the hands of Titanspawn or finding ways to destroy them was deemed a worthwhile quest, so the party set out to the Chasm of Flies. After a long journey through the Devil's March, the party descended the Chasm and found that a tribe of eight-armed spider-eye goblins were living within and worshiping the fallen Spiragos and his artifacts. It was only after recovering the Dagger and the Ring that the party realized they were inside of the Gauntlet- Spiragos' severed hand and bones embedded in the Earth and still wearing the Gauntlet kept the Gauntlet from shrinking to human size.
Once the two artifacts were recovered, the party set out to Fangsfall once more only to be ambushed by Vangalites pretending to be common bandits. Somehow the God of Destruction's followers knew Spiragos' artifacts were recovered and intend to take them for themselves. In the mean time, the party needs to discover a means of destroying the Dagger and the Ring themselves.
Okay, I think that catches everyone up in character and out of character, as far as I can tell.
Heroiel finds the temple to Madriel and the long line of refugees and the injured. A young acolyte with long dark hair braided down her back is keeping people fairly organized and figuring out who needs immediate attention.
She approaches the wizard as he nears the line.
"Hello and welcome, stranger- are you in need of medical attention, shelter, food or.... ?"
"It was your grace." and Theodor removes the dagger from his pack and sets in on the Deacon's desk.
The Curate mutters a quick prayer to Madriel as the Dagger's wrappings are removed to reveal its spider shaped hilt and wicked blade. For a moment, he looks even older and more tired than ever before quickly composing himself.
"What of the Ring? The Gauntlet? Were they there or was Meroni's map incorrect?"
Insight DC 10:
He hesitated a second when he said Meroni's name- like he had forgotten it or was going to say something else.
Reminder- Hasdia Meroni was the merchant that "loaned" you the map leading to the Chasm of Flies back in Creagfort; she runs International Exports, Ltd. down by the docks.
Sorry for the hold-up everyone; it was tough getting on yesterday with the Playtest rules dropping.
Heroiel spends the better part of the afternoon going from inn to inn across Fangsfall, each one packed with locals eating at their usual spots rubbing elbows with some of the better-off refugees fleeing the Calastian advance along with middle-class merchants and artisans just trying to have a business meeting. The wait for food and drink at all of these places is far too long and every available room, even the common room floors, are booked.
As far as he knows, The Lucky Scabbard usually has space but it's known for being a soldier's hangout- so the "disgraced" war wizard may not find much welcome. Grog Blossom's, a salty dockside inn catering to sailors and mercenaries is also a likely contender; it's a rough place and the beds aren't known for being comfortable. But it's cheap and it's a roof.
I'm heading out of town from tonight until Sunday. I should have some internet access, but if I'm not posting much for the next few days I'm probably in a cabin by a lake. (Don't worry- we're all way too old for a masked crazy person with a machete to find us appealing victims.)
"Brother Theodor! It is wonderful to see you returned safely!"
"Thank you Sister Bernice. I am happy to be back. Can you tell me where the Curate might be found? I need to report to him right away!"
"The Curate is seeing to patients with Deaconess Thessira; I'm sure they're eager to see you.", Sister Bernice says, grasping Brother Theodor's arm. At Djal's smile, she flusters a bit before returning to her duties with a bit of a blush.
Inside, the building has been sectioned off into sleeping areas, a hospital ward and an expanded kitchen, the offices and dormitory on the second story being blocked off with a rope across the stairs. The small courtyard in back has a small team of hired hands (mostly refugees) chopping firewood, peeling and cutting vegetables and boiling an enormous pot of water.
The Curate and Deaconess Thessira are setting a young boy's broken arm, their surgical masks hanging around their necks. Both the older Curate and the young Deaconess look exhausted.
After you give them some time to finish up, The Curate beckons you upstairs to the clerics' quarters and office. He pours cups of strong tea for each of you before sitting down in one of the chairs in the common area. He sits with flawless posture despite his clear exhaustion.
"Welcome back, young Theodor- and welcome to you, adventurers. I apologize that we do not have much more than tea to offer at the moment. Was your mission successful?"
With your goodbyes to Lhienne out of the way, you head toward the docks where the Chapel of the Redeemer is located- the absolute opposite part of the city from Vrail Keep.
The crowds only seem to grow thicker the closer you get to the docks, carts and draft animals joining the throngs of people choking the streets. At least the ocean breeze off of Blossom Harbor keeps the omnipresent fish scent from settling too much.
The Chapel of the Redeemer doesn't look very chapel-like: it's a converted warehouse, donated to the clergy decades ago after an outbreak of Termanan Flu swept the docks. A line of refugees stand, sit or sprawl out the door as they wait for food, medical attention or an opportunity to work. A lay priestess of Madriel walks down the line, checking in with each group to see who is in the worst shape and who can stand to wait in line. Passersby glare at the new arrivals or ignore them while going about their business.
The lay priestess smiles warmly as Brother Theodor approaches.
"Brother Theodor! It is wonderful to see you returned safely!"
While reporting the gate clerk, Zdravko returned to his place of employment with Professor Teagle.
Zdravko wrote:
Sorry, feeling a bit lost storywise, trying to think of IC reason to be with group
Zdravko spins the tale of his return from the observatory to the head astronomer, one Professor Teagle. Teagle is a rich man by inheritance and has chosen a life of study, employing a few craftsmen who specialize in optics and engineering, a mathematician for advanced theoretical work, and Zdravko for the more mundane tedious calculations.
Zdvrako's tale is hard to listen to, he speaks as if annoyed all the time, like he wants to just go to sleep and stop talking to Teagle as soon as possible. "...and anyways my abacus was smashed as well. I'd get a new one but some dirtbag at the gates shook us down, mistook us for some refugee trash." he slanders the refugees in way that makes you think its just something he heard someone say, rather than actually having that opinion.
Teagle takes a deep breath, which has the side effect of shaking out his long moustache. He turns to the rest of his assistants occupied with calibrating and polishing the massive telescope in the Natural Philosophy building's observation dome.
"Gentlemen, I'm going to take young Zdravko here for a bit of a walk- make sure he gets, er, settled after his return journey. Continue on and if you finish before I return- well, I won't be long, so simply continue."
He gestures for Zdravko to follow him down the stairs and back out of the building, into the walled garden around the lecture buildings.
"My lad, would you say that you have a passion for this work?", he begins, gesturing back toward the observatory. "Mathematics, astronomy, natural philosophy- all things that require a flexible mindset and a rigorous attention to detail."
He leads Zdravko through the garden and toward the streets.
"While I've found your calculations for the most part to be perfectly adequate, I must say that your heart doesn't seem to be in the work. Not simply the destroyed abacus and the business at the gate- but your attitude overall these last several... well, let's say the entire period of your employment with me. With most of my assistants, I can say with some confidence that they wish to maintain their positions- if not for their passion for knowledge, at least for the satisfaction of a good day's work."
You've reached the gate leading back out into the government ward. Professor Teagle stops, facing Zdravko beside the gate.
"I think it's best you take some time off- consider what you, Zdravko, would truly like to be doing with your time and attention. There's plenty of time left for you to right the course you're on, a young man like yourself. Come back in a few weeks if you decide this is really what you want to be doing, hm?"
Teagle nods awkwardly, walking back toward the natural philosophy building.
Lhienne thrusts a thoroughly wrapped bundle to Brother Theo and Zukhan.
"I can't handle this thing anymore. With the Unchained gone and this cursed treasure business... I can feel it getting to me. Destroy the damn things, sell them to Meroni or throw them in the Harbor- I'm done."
After some short inquiries, you find that the clerk's name on duty is Magistrate Zalindra Danut.
The side entrance is opened for you by one of the many guards on duty and you're quickly ushered through into the city of Fangsfall at last. Crowds choke every main thoroughfare, destitute people looking for work while merchants truck their goods to stalls, warehouses and docks. The afternoon sun gleams off of the unique, gleaming white battlements and towers of the city- almost every permanent structure is made from part of Gaurak's fallen tooth in Fang Quarry. The city is built in a semicircle around the Charduni constructed docks in Blossom Harbor, which are busy around the clock thanks to the Lamplighters Guild.
At the center of the city, atop the largest hill, is Vrail Keep- so renamed for the Grand Duke himself. The Keep bustles around its newly-reconstructed defenses (a precaution Lord Vrail took himself during his meteoric rise to power) with aristocrats, knights, magistrates and plaintiffs. It takes some time, but you find a magistrate with a stern demeanor and the four swords compass rose of Corean's faith on the holy symbol around his neck and promptly report the gate magistrate's conduct. He promises that the matter will be dealt with.
Alright, you're finally back in Fangsfall. What do you guys want to do? It's a big city, so you can spend some of that coin in your pocket if you so wish.
”.... yes, I suppose bridge tolls *appear* to be inappropriate, but on the case of contingency...” ”... this particular tax covers waste removal and otyugh containment which I’m sure we can both agree is pertinent and necessary...”
Flustered, the scribe finally tallies the total “processing fee”.
”Well! With gate tolls and penalties, the city of Fangsfall’s adjusted fee is 50 gold coins.”, she huffs, the guards looking disappointed but slightly in awe of Djal’s rhetorical prowess.
She nods emphatically.
"Yes, yes. With your vestment paperwork completely processed, you have the privilege of vouching for this... colorful ministry of yours.", she says.
”One hundred gold coins.”, she says, not missing a beat. After seeing the consternation on your faces she points out,”There are several fees involved, many parties that have to rework their schedules around the request. I’m sure you understand.”
The clerk looks over Brother Theodor's paperwork, shaking her head and sighing.
"No, no, no- this won't do at all. These are all vestment papers from last year, your superiors should have filed a new set after the Festival of Storms earlier this summer..."
Naturally, Brother Theodor's paperwork is only two weeks out of date- and his church surely couldn't send someone out into the Devil's March just to give him new paperwork.
She hands the papers back to Brother Theodor.
"You'll have to wait for entry while we send for a messenger, who has to get the new paperwork and bring it back here once it's stamped by a magistrate and cross referenced with your previous paperwork. It may be a day or two."
As Brother Theodor reluctantly takes his papers back, the clerk's hand continues to hold onto them for a moment.
"Unless... you wish to pay the processing fee yourselves? I may be able to expedite the process that way..."
"We've got business with two organizations. The first is the church of the Redeemer and the other is International Exports, Ltd. Hasdia Meroni specifically. We are here to fatten the city's coffers, not lighten them."
DM Screen:
1d20 ⇒ 12
Some of the clerk's suspicion subsides.
"That is reassuring at the least, the trouble back there in the queue certainly didn't make me more inclined to welcome you. But are you all residents here? I'm supposed to check my records to make sure you live here before I can let you in... and that usually means you have to be nobility to be on the rolls."
Heroiel wrote:
"Why are the gates closed?"
The clerk blinks, looking quite tired. With her quill she points to the lines of refugees.
"More and more of these folk arrive every day, looking for a safe place away from Titanspawn or the Hegemony. The city's already filling up, I doubt there's an inn or stable that isn't stuffed to the gills, some of them are sleeping on the street. Lord Vrail has ordered the gates shut and for each group of refugees to be, um, vetted before allowing for entry."
She sighs.
"I think his hope is that they'll give up and leave, but that doesn't seem to be the case..."
I rolled their save as a group, Djal- in a dangerous encounter, I'll roll individually, but (spoiler) you could easily take these guys if you had to so I didn't think it would be a big deal.
Zdravko throws two large men off of him and the crowd gasps.
"Stronger than he looks!", mutters one of them as he staggers back.
The trio look less eager to fight after their brief tussle with Zdravko and the carrot and stick approach of Brother Theodor and Heroiel.
"Hmph. Fine, go ahead of us and I hope you're all proud of yourselves.", the spokesman for the Zathiskan refugees mutters, crossing his arms and standing aside.
You don't encounter further resistance on the way up to the front, just hard, aggrieved stares from the huddled masses at the gate. With the portcullis down on the main gate and a mass of guards and archers stationed on the wall, there is only the small service entrance off to the side where a group of guards stands next to a fortified wagon and an overworked city clerk stands with arms full of scrolls, registers of nobility, writing utensils and a folding desk far too small for all the stuff she's carrying.
"Who are you and what's your business?", she asks the group of you, suspicion in her voice. "And who are you related to?"
Zdravko manages to push his way forward, despite the aggrieved shouts of the assembled refugees. About mid-way to the small service door where the official and her guards are processing people, a large Zathiskan man shoves Zdravko in retaliation. Two more equally large men step forward as well.
"We waited here three days already, milksop. Wait your turn or we'll cart you to the back of the line ourselves."
Shouts and jeers rise from the crowd. A clod of mud flies through the air at the berserker.
Ranged attack:1d20 ⇒ 17
Mud hits him square in the chest and the assembled refugees laugh.
Assuming everyone is ready to get back on the road.
The next several days of travel are, to say the least, a bit difficult. Thunderstorms and more rains of Titan's blood and tooth fragments continue on your trek south, but at least this time you know to keep an eye out for shelter. After each Vorestorm, you fend off a band of hunger-crazed goblins, only to be beset with stirges the next night and an ambush by spider-eye goblins the next. As the days go on, you see more and more refugees making their way toward the city- while your interactions typically begin friendly enough, even sharing the road for a time, something inevitably sours with each group you find yourself encountering to the point that you believe it must be the Titan artifacts Brother Theo and Lhienne are carrying. Lhienne is looking more paranoid and haggard as time goes on and she stays further and further separated from the party as you continue on toward the city, darting furtive glances at Heroiel and his holy symbol of Chardun.
The Fangsfall Peninsula's famous mild weather only catches up to you on the final night before reaching Fangsfall's gleaming white walls. You can finally sleep under the stars with a warm fire and hot food, which does wonders for your spirits in the morning...
... which quickly fall as you approach the city. The gleaming white walls and towers of Fangsfall stand proud and splendid in the bright noon sun, the clean ocean scent of Liar's Sound coming in on a gentle wind to encompass the incredibly long line of people and carts trying to enter the city. The gates are closed tightly and from what you can see at the end of the huge line, a group of guards and one very overworked city clerk are personally interviewing each refugee that's attempting to enter the city. It could well be days before you finally reach the front, judging by how things are going.
Additionally, the heap of discarded weapons holds three javelins, two longswords, a silver shortsword, a mace, a greatsword and scythe with a broken haft.
Additionally, everyone can level up to level 4! This means either an ability score improvement or a feat in addition to HP and class abilities.
With the agile flourish of Djal's bladework and the cringe-worthy might of Zdravko's fury the blade beast crumbles in a spray of sparks and crumbling obsidian shards. All of its stolen weapons fall to the ground in a clanking pile, including Djal's stolen dagger and Brother Theodor's spear.
