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Greenest in Flames
1488 DR, Eleint 8, Sundown
Just Outside the town of Greenest
For the past several days, you have been traveling a road that winds lazily across the rolling grasslands of the Greenfields. Sundown is approaching when you top a rise and see the town of Greenest just a few short miles away. But instead of the pleasant, welcoming town you expected, you see columns of black smoke rising from burning buildings, running figures that are little more than dots at this distance, and a dark, winged shape wheeling low over the keep that rises above the center of the town. Greenest is being attacked by a dragon!
Ohno!Tanismightbeinthere!
Zatqualmie, Zat to his friends, hustles forward he hopes he can get there in time to pull Tanis out!
Ragar had been on the caravan route for weeks. He truly looked forward to his return home to Greenest. He needed to wash the dust of the road from his armor and see his mom.
As he topped the rise, he, and the others in the caravan, could see the smoke and the circling dragon.
By the balls of Orcus! That's a dragon! Come! We must aid!
Astonished at first, Rhen sighs and shakes his head. "So much for laying low away from dragon cultists. I can do with less irony in my life."
"Let's go! But conserve some strength! We've still got miles to go. We won't be of much help if we're spent getting there, though it may tear at our hearts to watch every stride."
Darius had his nose in a book for most of the trip with the caravan. Some might find it difficult to walk and read at the same time, but Darius had long ago mastered this little trick. It was a good way to avoid any awkward social interactions like, well, talking to people.
But even so, he was caught unaware when his traveling partners starting exclaiming that there was a dragon. At first he thought that he had misheard them, but then he looked up -- and nearly relieved himself in his breeches.
Thankfully, he'd been an adventurer long enough not to lose his head -- or his bowels -- at the first sign of danger. But even so, a dragon!
"Gods' Books," he whispered. "That -- that can't be real." But even as he said it, he knew it was untrue.
When the others wanted to run toward the danger, he shook his head in denial, but he paradoxically followed after them, and strung his shortbow.
"Of course, you realize that this is madness, don't you?" he said aloud to everyone.
Gilandril stares in horror at the destruction unfolding in the town below, before quickening his pace to catch up with the others.
"Ragar, this is your home, is it not? Does the town have a militia capable of dealing with such a threat?" he asks breathlessly.
By the Luminous Cloud, are any of us capable of dealing with such a threat?
Gilandiril tries to push such thoughts away as they head toward the smoking buildings and panicked townsfolk.
At least Sehanine has guided me here in time to try to prevent my visions from becoming reality.
"Madness it may be, Darius, but we must do we can to help these folk, dragon or no!"
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Current: Eleint 8, sundown
Making your way into town, every step cannot come quick enough. Soon enough your strides equal your heart beats which could not be heavier at the moment. As your eyes focus on the town your mind wanders to the previous night.
Last Night: Eleint 7, night time
Having decided to bed down for the night at The Silver Demon. Who is in full swing of the nights revelry ale is flowing and there is a rather listless bard, going through the motions. Your waitress is a young friendly Tiefling Girl. A burly Dragonborne stands behind the bar, his muscles match the girth of his belly.
"I'm pretty sure I should have gotten 8 copper back for that sprig of Mungweed instead of 7. That's the deal I would have gotten ay Joram's in Candlekeep anyway. Infernal Gnome..." Adrick furiously pondered his last transaction with the herbalist a few weeks ago. He wanted to experiment with a new recipe and Manaaka the Green was the only one to have the thing he needed. He was also a notorious cheat. The Dwarf cursed himself for being swindled. The next time he was in Easting he'd string that flighty Fey-Spawn by his pinky sized...
The thought of revenge fell away as he saw the smoke. Thats when he heard the commotion of the other members of his troupe.
"Dragon!? Well it's about time something interesting happened! By Moradin I'll see what hammer on dragon flesh sounds like before days end!"
Pumping his legs, the Dwarf's heavy pack jangled and swayed over his head as he rushed toward the burning town.
Aye, there is a militia, but ill-prepared for this.
Gilandiril gawks at the dwarf, both alarmed and impressed by his eagerness to meet a dragon in combat.
"Let us hope it does not come to that, Adrick! I fear that engaging a dragon directly guarantees but one outcome, and I have no wish to perform the rite of Transcendence for you so soon after making your acquaintance!"
Gilandiril gazed up at the sign swinging above the front porch of the wayside inn, his last stop on the long journey from Daggerford to Greenest.
The Silver Demon? Not exactly an inviting name for an inn. By the Lady, I hope it is not a portent of things to come.
He pushed the door open and stepped into the busy taproom, his attention immediately drawn to the serving girl and the barkeep.
A Tiefling and a Dragonborn... Quite an exotic staff for such a rustic place. Perhaps they'll have some decent wine.
He took a seat at a table near a grimy window, where he could see the reassuring light of the moon, and waited for the serving girl to notice him.
Tanis, why'd you get mixed up with all this! There's gotta be a way out
SothatswhenIwenttothesecondstoryandhelpedmyselftohispocketwatchandIfoundthi slovelyfansee Zatqualmie is regaling his companions with tales of his larcenous past. Currently he is showing a curious looking Silk fan from distant Kara-Tur. Zat takes a deep breath and much slower he says But all that is behind me now...I don't take things any more.
IfyouseethedragonupcloseitsbesttorunandhideIthink. *deep breath* Better hide if it gets close
Jeez, I cannot understand a word that Gnome says...
Nonetheless, Ragar leans back in his chair and laughs heartily at Zat, takes a pull on his ale, and replies to all,
Indeed, Zat, once a lightfinger, always a lightfinger. Keep yer hands on yer pouches,boys!
"Sound advice, Zatqualmie!'
Advice we'd all do well to follow if we're to survive this. Of course, if we can determine what the dragon wants, perhaps we can reason with it...
"I suppose no one is well-prepared for a dragon attack, Ragar. But what could have drawn the beast's ire? What treasure does Greenest hold that would attract the greed of a dragon?"
Gilandiril smiled as peals of laughter filled the taproom, drowning out the anemic strains of music being played by a minstrel that could only be described as unenthusiastic.
They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves.
He turned toward the revelers and was surprised to see a gnome sharing an ale with an enormous, red-haired fellow whose creaking chair seemed on the verge of collapse. The contrast between the pair made Gilandiril smile again.
This place grows more interesting by the moment.
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Eleint 7, Night
Upon entering the inn, seeing the caretakers the name makes much more sense. The Dragonborn's silvery sheen being reflected in the light of the fireplace.
The serving girl comes up to your tables, wipes it down rather quickly with a clean rag, then asks, So what'll you have?
Eleint 8, Twilight Hours
You make your way into town, perhaps the quickest you ever have from that distance. Making clear headway to the keep, perhaps the safest place in all of Greenest when without warning five humans dash out from between two building on your left. A limping man and three young children race across the street into more shadows, and a woman carrying a round shield and a broken spear turns and faces back in the directions from which they came. Eight kobolds stream out of the alley on the family's heels and fan out around the woman, who looks determined to delay the creatures for as long as possible.
Ragar rushes to the aid of the woman with the spear. He moves in and attacks the nearest kobold.
We need to defend these people!
Ragar swings at a kobold.
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Okay, then we go to rounds.
Initiative Order.
Kobolds, Rhen, Ragar, Darius, Adrick, Zat, Gil, Villagers
The kobolds spend this round focusing their attacks on the villagers, the woman with the shield and spear spends her time defending the injured man and children, like a bear defending it's cubs. They have formed a semi circle around the woman and she has backed herself in the corner so that none my take her back.
The party is up.
"Now you listen here ya over-grown crocodile! I'll not pay that much'a me hard earned coin for this brew tha' taste like you put yer scaly foot in it!" Adrick did his best to never pay full price for anything, let alone alcohol. He'd work to weasel down the price against the stone-faced Dragonborn.
The "negotiations" continued until a price of 4 copper was reached. This satisfied the cleric and he took the over-flowing mug back to his table after stating, "By the way Remus, I'm sorry to hear about yer uncle. You run a fine establishment and he'd be proud were he ta see ya today."
The odd pair of Half-Orc and Gnome caught his attention next. The mention of one's pockets furled his hairy brow. "I dare you to take anything off of me Gnome, I assure you you'd lose a hand in the process." He took a pull of the mug and continued. "An' you big fella, he a friend a' yers or does he owe you money?"
"Here me now Elf! Iff'n you do anything to stop me from reaching the Forge-Father with yer ritual, I'll haunt you till the end of days! An' Gnome! I do no speak yer tongue! Translate for the sake o' the Gods!"
He yelled and complained between labored breaths for the anger kept his mind off of the burning of his legs. He was thankful for the stop as he saw the family being attacked. Adrick reached for the crossbow tied to his hip, loaded a bolt and fired at one of the creatures in the back of the pack. "Hey you! Eat bolt!"
The missle went wide and Adrick released it to hang on its thong. He then moved in the fray.
Gilandiril regarded the Tiefling standing before him.
”Ah, yes. A glass of wine, if you have any. If not, a mug of mulled cider will do. And something to eat, if you please.” After a moment, he added, “Also, I shall need a room for the night. I am bound for Greenest, but I can travel no further today.”
He turned his gaze back toward the bar. The gnome and the large man had been joined by an energetic dwarf who was haggling loudly with the Dragonborn over the price of his drink.
“Tell me,” he asked the serving girl, “Does your establishment always attract such… colorful clientele?”
”Far be it from me to keep you from your god, friend dwarf, but I would prefer that you not to have to meet him so soon!”
Having finally reached the outskirts of town, his lungs ready to burst from the exertion of their sprint, Gilandiril stops short as a group of townsfolk dash across the road in front of them, pursued by a pack of hissing, scaly humanoids.
”Kobolds! The dragon has servants, it would seem!"
As Ragar charges forward to help the brave woman facing down the creatures, Gilandiril moves to the mouth of the alleyway down which the injured man and children darted, levels his staff at the nearest kobold, and utters a brief incantation in Elvish. A cold ray of silvery moonlight arcs from his outstretched hand toward his target...
Rhen quips, "Servants? More like the parasitic fleas living off rats to my eyes."
He puts an arrow to the bowstring and lets it fly at one of the kobolds. But his aim is hasty and the shot goes wide.
When Rhen first walked into the inn and spotted the varied assortment of patrons - the haggling dwarf, the chattering gnome - he almost walked right back out. Then he came to realize that there are a number of ways to keep a low proflle and one of them is to be in the vicinity of someone who is more flamboyant and draws attention to themselves, providing everyone else with a shield of anonymity.
Rhen signaled the serving girl as he made his way past most patrons and into the relative seclusion of a corner booth.
Zat does what he knows, he draws his tiny bow and attempts to press his small body against the flat stone of a nearby building.
Zatqualmie responds to the big Draconian onceIheardaboutthisdrinkthatwasinventedbyawizardinNeverwinterIhearditturned whoeverdrankitintoanewtohmaybethatwasamagicpotionnevermind *deep breath* I'll keep this water thanks
Darius vomited in the alleyway.
After a minute of rapid breathing and trying to stop himself from vomiting again, the field researcher leaned against the wall, with his head between his legs, trying to catch his breath.
"It's all right. You can do this. You've talked to strangers before. It's just another caravan. You've walked alongside plenty before. You know how it works. People are just another puzzle to be figured out. And you're not afraid of puzzles."
Finally, he used what little bit of magic he'd been born with to clean himself up. And then he walked into the tavern.
He took a breath, walked out, and hyperventilated for 30 seconds.
"Okay, I'm good. I'm good."
When he walked back in a few patrons were looking at him oddly. He gave them a watery smile that was likely more off-putting than reassuring. But he didn't faint, and he would take whatever small victories he could.
A pleasant tiefling woman escorted him to a table with a dwarf and gnome and asked him what he wanted.
"A soup or stew if you have it. And a bottle of wine. Whatever vintage is good right now."
He then looked to those sitting with him and smiled. He opened his mouth and squeaked out, "My name is Darius."
He then cleared out his throat and spoke in his normal tenor. "I mean, my name is Darius."
He chuckled nervously.
"Well, actually, Master Adrick, the ritual only assure that your spirit leaves the material plane without being lured into undeath by spells or -- Right, you don't care. Never mind, then."
Darius narrowed his eyes at the kobolds. Vicious beasts. Dragon worshippers. Give no quarter.
He drew back his shortbow and fired.
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Eleint 7, Night
The woman says to the elves, Sure thing, lovies; though the only wine we have might not be suitable to your palates. It's a local from a farmer who dabbles in it.
To Darius, the waitress asks in response to his ordering of stew, [b]vegetable, potato, or rabbit?
The Draconian looks at Zat, his eyes go wide, Wa-wut?
To Rhen, Hi sir. She says wiping down the table, Where you headed stranger?
To Gil, the tiefling says, Oh, that's Otik. He bought the bar a couple months ago. He was a former adventurer before that. Guess he had enough of killing monsters. What do you do for a living?
At Adrick, Then I don't think you need to be drinking here! Slamming his fist down, It'll be six coppers and you can watch your tongue or sleep with you damn horses! He says pulling out a club and laying on the table.
Eleint 8, Twilight Hours
Rhen notches an arrow and lets it fly, in a fluid, rapid motion, unfortunately he should have taking the time to properly aim his weapon.
Ragar rushes forth and impales one of the draconic creature. He jerks the spear at the end of his rush, and the limp kobold flies from the end. The kobold gasps one last time before it’s head drops to the ground.
Daris shoots the kobold threatening the woman.
Adrick’s labored breathing interferes with his aim, and the bolt plants firmly in a nearby wall. He then presses his advantage and moves to the heart of the fray.
Zatqualmie draws his bow and presses his small body against a wall with the shadows concealing his form.
Gilandiril releases his words of power and the eldritch might flows forth in a freezing ray from his staff, firmly hitting one of the tiny creatures.
The woman keeps thrusting her spear at the nearest kobold, only a brief moment does she look up and say, Thanks for the aid strangers. Then she turns back and tries to end one of the creatures.
hit.
Ragar you have advantage as you are flanking one with the woman.
Kobold 1 (Dead) 3 attack Ragar, 3 attack Adrick
Kobolds attacking Ragar
(4 damage) hit
hit
miss
Kobolds attacking Adrick
hit
miss
hit
Ragar (8 damage)
Adrick (6 damage)
2/8 kobolds dead.
Gilandiril blinked up at the Tiefling. "For a living?" He was unsure how to answer the question. "I suppose I just... live. I go where the Lady of Dreams leads me. Most recently, I was a guest of Floshin Manor, just north of Daggerford, before it was razed by orcs."
Orcs...
He looked across the tavern again at the large, red-haired man drinking with the gnome. For the first time, he noticed the distinctly orcish features that marked him as a half-breed.
Poor devil.
"I'm sure whatever wine you have will be fine, thank you," he said absently to the serving girl.
The creatures swarmed the cleric, stabbing wildly with their tiny spears. The first sunk into his thigh causing him to slump just enough for the second to bite at his forearm. Being bested by these animals pressed upon the maelstrom that lived inside Adrick. It needed out and would do so through the Dwarfs pain.
These monsters had made a big mistake...
It started in his eyes, glazing over with bright light. The sound of thunder came from his throat next, rolling and distant. Finally, lightning formed around his empty hands and sent a bolt screaming toward the beast that had been dumb enough to strike him last.
The storm had passed for now, Adrick had regained control and he was ready to make them all pay in blood. He took up his hammer in two hands and swung it with all his might!
"Clangeddin! Give me strength!"
"Oh, don't worry, my dear. I rather like trying wines from different vintners. And I'll have the vegetable stew, please."
That's it, lad. Small talk. Nice and easy. You've done this before.
Darius calmly picks out one of the targets attacking Ragar, and looses another arrow.
Ragnar whoops it up with Adrik and Zat. They shared many stories of valor and bloodshed. The night wears on, and many drinks are downed...
So, a Dwarf, a Gnome and a Half-Orc walk into a bar! Hey, Bard...brrrrrrp...2. Silvers if you can come with a diddy with that opening!
Ragar takes a couple serious wounds, but presses on with a swing of his greataxe at the kobold he flanks with the spear weilding woman.
Some healing, Adrick?!?!
Ragar swings at the kobold.
Zat fires his bow at one of the kobolds
heygetawayfromthemthatsnotniceyoulittlebuggers!
He then hides again
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...until then
Adrick unleashes the wrath of the storm the creature manages to get out of the way. Taking only minimal damage but an arc of electricity manages to find its way to the kobolds chest, stopping his heart.
Adrink then clubs the next on the head, an audible crack of the vertibrae sounds, and the kobold drops.
Darius shoots an arrow throw the neck of one of Ragar's attackers.
Ragar swings over the top of the head of the kobold. Merely clipping a couple hairs of the draconic pest.
Zat plants an arrow at the base of the skull of a kobold attacking his half-orc friend.
1 injured Kobold on Adrick
1 Kobold on Ragar
Gilandiril holds his position at the mouth of the alleyway.
“Quickly! Find someplace to hide! We’ll finish them off!” he shouts at the injured man and frightened children before turning his attention back to the kobolds.
Seeing that his companions have dispatched most of the scaly vermin, Gilandiril thinks better of unleashing a more powerful spell and simply repeats the incantation his mother taught him to unleash the cold light of the moon again.
Gritting his teeth at missing his previous shot, Rhen tries again, firing at the one fighting Ragar.
And is far more satisfied with the result. "That's more like it!" he says as he closes with the woman fighting with the broken spear and shield. "Get your people under cover until we can see if the fight with the kobolds has attracted too much attention from the dragon."
Hi sir. She says wiping down the table, Where you headed stranger?
Rhen answers a bit flustered at the question and considers lying about his destination, "On my way to Greenest, currently, looking for a little work. And after that, who knows? You recommend the rabbit stew or potato?"
Zat says ofcoursewewillhelpyouandyourlittleoneswearentmonsters *deep breath* Just let me go ahead a little. Follow behind
Zat heads forward trying to scout the area and find the safest route
Ragar yells,
To the keep!
"Yes! A fortified position sounds like a good idea. Lead the way, Madam."
"I want to check out the situation from another vantage point. We want to have an idea where that dragon is before we break out of cover." He then makes his way to a nearby building wall that looks easy to climb.
If he makes it to the roof, he'll keep low on it and crawl to the peak to get a stealthy look around.
Ragar leads the group to the keep, and he notices Rhen climbing onto the roof. He does not break stride.
We are not in cover at the moment. It is a flying beast that could swing back over us at any moment. Tryin' to make yerself an easy target for the dragon, Rhen? Make for the keep with us!
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Current
Heading to the keep you run into a group of kobolds and human ruffians. They have not seen you yet and there are plenty of alleys and things to hide behind.
Last Night.
The waitress upon hearing people are headed to Greenest points at the others heading that direction saying merely, I hear there is safety in numbers.
As the last kobold falls, Gilandiril quickly looks around for signs of any more of the creatures. "There are bound to be more of them about..."
With Zat and Ragar leading the way toward the keep at the center of town, Gilandiril falls in behind them, doing his best to stick to corners and doorways, and furtively scanning the entrances and windows of each building they pass.
Overhearing a bit of conversation between the serving girl and another patron, Gilandiril leans around in his chair to see her speaking to a well-armed Or-tel-quessir clad in well-worn traveling clothes.
"Well met, cousin," Gilandiril said in Elvish, loudly enough to be heard over the din of the taproom. "I don't mean to intrude, but did I hear you say you are on your way to Greenest? That is my destination as well."
Perhaps he knows something of the town and why it might be in danger...
Gilandiril stood and stepped toward the wood elf's table, inclining his head in a slight bow of respect. "I am Gilandiril Celebrithil of Ardeep. May I join you?"
Adrick, I could use some healing.
Ragar advances and puts up his hand to stop the others and allow the kobold and ruffian to pass.He whispers,
I am not gonna be much help to anyone in this condition.
Ragar is visibly dripping blood from multiple wounds, having been assailed by three kobolds at once.
Darius spots the human and the kobold and comes to a decision.
" There are only two of them in our immediate way. I can move in quietly and take out the kobold. Master Burrwaddle, do you think you could help with the human? We'll strike them quietly. If we don't succeed in taking them out, we'll disengage and hurry back so the rest of you can spring an ambush."
<-- Critical
Zat blanches at the idea of attacking someone without anyone else in between him and the thing he just annoyed.
idontknowidontthinkitsagoodideatomakeenemiesjustyetyouknowitsnotawayto.. he begins....and then Darius shoots his bow and Zat fires his own, terrified at what will happen next
As Zatqualmie and Darius return from dispatching a pair of enemy scouts, Gilandiril winces at the severity of Ragar’s wounds. He had not realized how badly hurt the half-orc had been in their brief battle with the kobolds.
”Hold fast, Ragar. Once we deliver these townsfolk safely to the keep, we should be able to catch our breath and have someone tend to your wounds,” he says as they get underway again.
Rounding a corner, as they draw closer to the keep, a pair of kobolds accompanied by a human emerge from between two buildings ahead of them.
More of them... This cannot just be the attack of a hungry dragon. By the Night Skies, what is happening here?
Gilandiril signals for the others to halt. “Wait!” he whispers. ”Perhaps I can deal with this group quietly.”
Focusing on a spot just in front of the approaching enemies, Gilandiril raises his staff, traces a complex symbol in the air with his free hand, and murmurs another incantation in Elvish.
He hated running. He hated hiding worse. The Cleric kept to himself for most of the journey deep in thought. The second time Ragar bellowed for a healing spell, Adrick snapped out of his silence. "Quit yer belly-aching ya Spear-Catcher. You're not the only one bleeding."
A moment of prayer later, Adrick laid a hand upon the Half-Orcs shoulder to fill him with holy healing.
Light washed over the wounds, closing them.
"There, now quiet before you attract more of the buggers." He addressed the family next, "Stay beside me and the green guy, we'll keep you safe. As soon as I heal me'self as well..."