It is dark and stormy tonight in Oakhurst, not unusual for this time of year. That strange part of fall right before the last leaves fall and the first snow comes in. The rain beats heavily upon the roof of the Cheerful Tortoise as the wind drives the trees outside to create crazy dancing shadows across the windows.
As you enter the tavern and shake off the rain and grim of the road, you can immediately hear a loud argument taking place at the bar. Two elderly men, who are clearly roaring drunk, sit at the bar, yammering and shouting at the portly barkeep, Max Peppermill.
"Ehm tellin' ya, Max! Just think 'bout it! Nobodies been in that place fer years! Not since I were a boy! Nobody even talks about the ol' citadel anymore, and we haven't had any trouble on the old road since! I bet there's still all kinds of treasure in that place, by golly! And I bet nothin' too nasty could be in there, otherwise we'd a had trouble on the road, I tell ya what! Boy, if I were twenty years younger..."
He carries on about being a young lad and slaying monsters and slaying the ladies and stuff like that for quite a while. Here and there Max interjects that he's a crazy old man, and "shut up, dad, you're drunk".
Upon noticing you standing in the entryway, he finds the perfect opportunity to get out of a conversation he is clearly annoyed with.
"Ho, strangers! Shut the door, come on in, have an ale! Awful weather tonight innit? What brings you to Oakhurst at this hour?"
Placing his heavy rain coat on a hook Snith turns to the barkeep and says
That it is, that it is I'll have some ale and whatever you have on the fire. I swear I am chilled to the bone.
He heads toward a table near the old men and sits down.
Romboldt sits at one of the tables near the bar, his dripping cloak draped over an empty chair showing he hadn't arrived very long ago. Sitting with his back to the wall he seems content to relax and sip at his drink, however a keener eye might notice his canine ears swiveling as they scoop up information.
Garroth stepped through the door, the leather cloak and hood he was wearing, slick with rain. His back was straight, his head held high, seemingly un-coved by the terrible weather, although the disgruntled scowl he wore on his face left no doubt that he didnt enjoy it.
"Ho to you barkeep." he hollered back at the barkeep, pulling the hood back on his cloak and striding quickly towards the bar. "Ain't nothin' I cant handle, but it sure as Gorums rusty backside isn't fun to trudge through."
Reaching the bar he dropped his elbows onto it with a heavy thud, leaning on them with a long sight. Digging inside his coat he retrieved a golden coin, dropping it onto the wood and sliding it towards the barkeep with his thumb. "A room and as much ale as it can buy." he grumbled, looking back at his travel companions.
"As for what bring me here, ask him." He motioned towards Snith with a nod of his head. "I'm just along for the ride."
Also, if everyone can go ahead and out their class/hp/ac/saves/perception and all that in a header under their name, that would be amazing.
NEVAR
Max slowly comes around and serves each of you some hot mulled wine to help warm up. A sullen look on his face as yet another group of strangers had nothing to say to him.
Damnit, Max. Why do you gotta be so forceful. *sigh* just another cold night listening to these drunks ramble on.
From anywhere within the tavern, you can easily hear the continued conversation of the two elderly chaps.
They seem pretty keen on the idea that some ancient ruins have been empty for years and likely have tons of treasure. Garroth listens intently, positive he has heard this story before. Amongst their ramblings and desire for adventure and reliving their youth, combined with what history of the area he knows, he manages to piece together a general idea of what the hell they are talking about. After listening for a while, he leans in to explain to Snith what is going on. Sam and Aliatris, sitting near the Half-orc and the cleric, easily overhear. Romboldt, with his keen canine ears, is also able to pick up on this.
Over 50 years ago, this strange fruit started popping up at the Winter and Summer Solstice, being sold by a strange old man. Rumor had it, that this fruit had the power over life and death. Within the next few years, strange things starting happening, like people and livestock going missing, goblins constantly raiding on the Old Road, rumors of tree people in the woods at night.
Anyways, a group of brave adventurers came into town around the time the mayor's son and daughter went missing investigating these ruins. So, naturally, they go to investigate and stumble across this mean old druid named Belak. Belak has found this tree deep in the ruins called the Gulthias Tree. It was an evil tree, and it apparently grow out of a stake that killed a vampire. On the summer solstice it bore a fruit that gave life on the winter a fruit that gave death. Belak was using this an a bunch of minions to try and take over the world or something. The heroes, obviously, killed him dead and hacked down the tree and Oakhurst has lived in peace and prosperity ever since, as this allowed them to reopen the Old Road and become a thriving trade center.
Natural, you all get super curious listening to the Half-orc explain everything like an old pro, and probably want to get to know him and talk to these old dudes. I mean, there could be easy treasure!
A Life/Death tree? An evil druid?! TREASURE?!?! Aliatris grins into her cider and shoots a mischevious look at her companion before looking back to Garroth. She is a little sad that she didn't get to see the tree. It was probably AMAZING. How did this half-orc person know so much about some local lore? He probably knew more. And is that...an aasimar? Now she had to get to know these people on pure principle.
She looks once more at Sam, giving him a cool nod and stating lowly I got this. She then slides off her seat to meander over to the table where the aasimar sits. Placing her hands on the table she peeks over the edge to look at Snith and Garroth, a wide childish grin on her face.
Hi. She then loses all pretense of calm and begins to bounce on her toes, questions falling out in a torrent. How do you know all this local stuff? Is there anything left of the old tree, do you know? Are you really an Aasimar?!? This last question her eyes jump towards Snith, practically vibrating in excitement.
Romboldt remains quiet as he leans back in his chair, propping it balanced against the wall while making himself and his tankard comfortable. His gaze wanders nowhere in particular as he listens intently to the conversation brewing. He liked the sound of treasure, and perhaps exploring this lead would make a good first step on his new life.
Sam knows better than to try to stop her, Have a care, Ali.
As the gnome bard berates the poor half-orc, everyone else makes themselves comfortable and enjoys a hot meal and perhaps some fine mead. As the night wears down, the nightlife at the tavern seems to pick up. All sorts of strange late-night folk began to wander in until the Cheerful Tortoise is pretty crowded. Some Varissian dancer's and a half-elf bard begin to perform, and much drinking ensues. The storm continues to rage outside.
Romboldt apparently has wax in his ears tonight, or perhaps he's too busy listening to the adventure hook to pay attention to much else.
Sam typically left the recon to Ali, she was good at it. He excelled in more academic pursuits. But, he'd completed his scroll, earlier today. He needed to be more like Kenna, his fox familiar. Patient, attentive and spring-loaded.
He tried to relax, something difficult for him to do within a crowd. He watched Kenna's ears twitch... and imagined his own doing likewise. He stroked the back of Kenna's neck as he looked out into the masses.
The entrance to the Cheerful Tortoise suddenly swings open, inviting a bit of the storm and a hooded stranger into the tavern. Stepping inside and quickly closing the door, the stranger turns and makes for the bar, grabbing an empty seat and patting the bar. The fingerless gloves seem to indicate he's human, whoever he is.
"Barkeep, I've got a powerful need for 3 things tonight; a bed, something sweet for my stomach... and a lead." Ford turned and stared at the drunken cabare, emerald eyes oddly glowing from underneath his hood before turn back. "I've got pay for all three, if need be. But I'm interested to know... I've heard talk and done some reading. Supposedly, quite a few years ago, there was a spellcaster of some sort causing some dubious trouble around these parts. I've heard the deeds, but not a name; this magic user... what did they call him?"
Ford isn't making any effort to keep his voice down; apparently, he deems the collection of patrons too drunk to even process that he's speaking, much less what it's about.
Snith turns toward his companion.
If the tree was as dangerous as they say maybe we should head down there and make sure it isn't regrowing.
EARLIER:
Giving the Gnome a bemused look, Garroth shrugged. "I get around alot and I like a good story with my ale. Ya hear all kinds of thin's on the road. They don't always stick in the head as well as this one has.." At this he pushed an index finger against his temple. ..but I know a thing or two." He flashed the plucky little lady a jagged-toothed grin. "Even though I might not look like I've got anythin' but empty space between my ears!" He guffawed loudly, then returned to nursing his drink.
PRESENTLY:
Garroth let out a short laugh, looking at Snith over the edge of his fifth mug of ale "And all these supposed treasures wouldn't have anythin' to do with that would it now Snith?" He lowered his mug, swallowing with a content sigh, blinking a few times to steady his vision. "Aaah, but ofcourse it wouldn't." he answered his own question. "Good guy Snith is here to save the day! Hehe, but I might be willin' to go...the prospect of treasure is quite the lure."
The loud mouth stranger drawing his attention, Garroth shouldered his way through the patrons, leaning on the bar at his side. "The spellcaster was Belak, stranger, and ya can have the name for free." He gulped down some more ale, burping loudly as he came back up for air. "Not like its a big secret though. I'm not from around here and even I have heard the tale."
His curiosity stirred, Garroth looked the stranger up and down. "Why are you so interested anyway? That fiends been dead for half a century."
Ford blinked at Garroth gave him the name of the caster, pulling his hood back to look at the half-orc. "Belak?" he asked, before scowling angrily and pounding the bar top with his fist... and electrical surges crackled around it. Ford seemed to quickly realize this, immediately withdrawing his hand under his cloak again. He shook his head. "Another dead lead... never gonna find that dastard!"
Ford inhaled, calming himself before grimacing back at Garroth. "Was hoping he might've been somebody else, but... thanks anyways." The human recomposed himself, putting a smirk to his face. "I just got in not a few moments ago. Heard the story in a tavern on the far side of the mountain and thought I might check it out. Didn't know it was common knowledge." He paused, tapping his chin. "Half a century? 50 years... the tale doesn't happen to say what about him made him so... fiendish, does it?"
"Fiend, bastard, scoundrel, take your pick. Didn't mean like an actual Fiend." Garroth chuckled. "Although for all I know he may very well have been."
Making eye contact with the barkeep, Garroth tapped the bar, motioning towards the stranger. "A drink for yer name stranger? Names Garroth, that one over there is Snith." He pointed at Snith with his thumb. "Old Snith here is feelin' mighty samaritan and wants to go check out where the tree was, make sure it aint growin' again or anythin'. Maybe we have a look at findin' that supposed treasure these drunks keep going on about." As if to underscore his hypocrisy, he let out a sudden, loud belch. "Couldn't help but notice that trick of yours." he motioned towards Fords hand "Might come in handy, and I figure it worth a cut of the loot."
Turning to look at the crowd he added "Might be worth gettin' a few more onboard if we can, aint noone ever died from bein' too careful." Turning back to Ford he smiled "But first things first, how about it?"
Trees can grow my friend for all we know the druid had a nursery of the damn things hidden behind a trick wall.
Snith finishes his meal and drinks the last dregs of his ale.
You are right about getting some more help even if there are no monsters there will probably be a trap or 20 between the entrance and the tree.
Popular opinion is that the Druid must have stumbled upon the gulthias tree many years prior to his fall. It's evil taint slowly corrupting him over the years until he finally broke.
The tree was reportedly cut, burned, and blessed with holy water.
Through the constant hum of the crowd, Snith is just barely able to make out a strange sound. It sounds like a faint booming sound from outside, followed by an immediate halting of the storm outside.
Ford flinched a little at Garroth's belch, staring at him a minute before tossing a few gold pieces on the bar counter. "Barkeep, a cup of whatever makes him happy and staves off the gas." he requested, giving a quick shake of the head to rid himself of the odor.
"Ford. Ford Benett. It's not loot I'm after, it's information. Hopefully something to explain why I can do that... trick." Ford looked down briefly at his side before shaking his head. "Now, if where you'd be headed has ruins, old relics, manuscripts or anything of that nature... then I'd be much more inclined to come along."
The old man down the bar perks up.
"Ford was it? I wa a lad when the heroes came and rid us if our problems at the ruins, but I'll never forget the stories they told of it! There was an old Mage with them who insists the citadel once played an important role in the dragon wars back in the secon age. Said the place was riddled with paintings and statues of the giant lizards an their faithful followers. Course, I never been there meself *hic*"
Ford perked up as the old patron mentions the possibility of dragon lore being located in the temple. "Dragons!? Are you sure?" Ford sat back in his seat as he looked at Garroth. "Well... if you're heading in there, I think I'll tag along and see what's to be found."
"Excellent!" Garroth yelled, giving Ford an overly strong slap on the back "Now, lets see if we can trick...I mean, convince, a few more brave souls to come along, we are gonna have some fun fer sure...its gonna be a party!"
He turned around, scanning the crowd.
Oh an ominous boom and the rain just stopped how wonderful.
Sighing heavily he turns to his companion and slinging his bow.
Garroth something just happened outside I will need your assistance to check it out. Ford If you are gonna help us come on there s something strange afoot.
I walk out of the inn and toward the sound I heard.
The sky is eerily still now, covered smoothly with black clouds, making it near pitch black aside from house lights.
It becomes quickly evident that the sound you hear is coming from the ground itself. A deep rumbling from far away. Possible an earth quake is going on?
Poking his head outside with a puzzled look, clearly not expecting the rain to stop this early, Garroth walked outside. "Yeah I hear it now alright. Strange. Ya think its anythin' important?"
Romboldt's ears perk at the mention of something strange outside, his gaze following the others as they move to investigate. He had been considering offering to join the exploration of the ruins, perhaps lending his eyes and ears to this curiosity outside would serve a good way to introduce himself. Throwing his travel cloak back over his shoulders and his bow in his left hand, the wolf stands up.
There are two floors, and after giving the perimeter a look around, it does not appear any danger is outside. Must be just a natural thing. Strange weather isn't uncommon.
Rom opens the window above the others, leaning out to call out to them. "Took a look on each side, didn't notice anything. False alarm, I suppose?" His lean out the window looks almost casual by now, comfortable, looking like he was aiming to spark up a conversation. He had his opening, would be a great time for introductions and to offer his bow. "Name's Romboldt, if you guys are still looking for warm bodies for your excursion."
Ford didn't seem as eager to follow after the searchers as Romboldt. He watched the others walk outside, before standing up and stepping to the door. Something doesn't sit right... he thought.
The human's pupils suddenly press into slits, his nostrils flaring slightly and his ears actually starting to twitch. He gave a couple sniffs, twisting his head about to hear better; he let his magical instincts take over and 'feel' out his surroundings...
EARLIER:
Aliatris scampered back towards Sam, temporarily ignored in favor of the new patron and rolling the new information around in her hear. Maybe a new adventure is just what we need!
What'dya think? Should we join them!
PRESENTLY:
The sudden movement of...well most of the strangers outside worried Ali a bit.
She begins to whisper furiously to her traveling companion. Never has she seen an uneasy exodus because of rain stopping early.
What's going on? Why's everyone leaving? Is this a tall people thing? Do you wanna go see?
Kenna the Fox hops into Sam's satchel even as he stands, it wouldn't do to be trampled by the less enlightened.
Taking Ali's hand, so they're not separated he makes his way through the crowd to look outside.
All this talk and renewed interest in the Sunless Citadel... jinxed. Something is wrong beneath the surface.
No magic is detected, but Sam, although you don't know too much about fault lines and earthquakes and such, you know enough to realize this is not a natural phenomenon. If you were to hazard a guess, you would say this sounds like some sort of mining or excavation must be going on in the surrounding area.
Anyone outside notices that only a few minutes after the shaking stopped, the intense storm seemed to almost immediately subside. Those of you outside who hit a DC 20 perception check can tell the strange booming came from down the old road. The same direction as the old citadel.
Sam continues to absently scratch the scruff behind Kenna's ear. I know, girl... Something is very wrong.
The ranger in the window frowns, apparently going unheard. He climbs out the window, hopping down into the center of the group and breaking his fall with a roll that results with him standing calmly amongst the others. "Storms don't just.. stop so abruptly.."
The fact that Ford couldn't sense anything magical worried him even more. The storm had stopped and the ground shook, and he had nothing even close to an explanation. As usual, it seemed. Ford stepped outside as his eye, nose and ears continued to twitch about; perhaps his draconic senses could pick up something else...
Ford frowned as he searched and searched... and got nothing. "Son of a hobgoblin! What good is this cursed blood!?" he cursed under his breath, "Am I just destined to have the answers well out of my reach? Cayden give me strength..."
"Quite the entrance there stranger!" Garroth said to Romboldt, smiling widely after the initial shock of his sudden appearance. Looking down his arm, he realized his hand was on his sword, a few inches of blade drawn from the scabbard. "Heh, old habits." he explained, shrugging and releasing his grip.
Looking Romboldt up and down he perked up, smiling once more. "Say, you look rather freaky dontcha? You wouldnt happen to be in the business of treasure huntin' by chance? You see, before all this weirdness..." he motioned towards the sky. ..."we were thinkin' about going out to that old place with the tree, see if there are any good pickin's. I havnt a clue what you can do, but that ferocious appearance gotta hide somethin' we can use I reckon."
Romboldt raises a brow curiously at the comment, chuckling and shaking his head. "I suppose my type isn't a common sight.." he grins at the opening given to him, "Aye, I know." The wolf gestures to the top of his head with his thumb, grinning. "They're not just for looks, ya know. I was considering offering to join the expedition."
Bah, I now I heard something but I can't tell were it came from.
Looking at the others he reslings his bow over his shoulder.
Well your an interesting group I thank you for your assistance most would have left me to fend for myself your bravery humbles me.
Alia rolls her eyes at being led by the hand but understands the need to stick close. She looks around trying to determine the direction of the sound. It was also a convenient chance to get a better look at the whole group now that they're standing so nicely together
Well, I don't know where the rumbling is coming from but I do know where I wanna go. She pulled a bit on Sam's hand to pull his attention back to her.
I wanna go see that dead Gulthais Tree. Can we?
Sam offers her a look. What have we got to lose? As you wish, friend.
Go now, or later?
The bartender heads outside to see what all the fuss is about
"Trouble strangers? What's this talk I hear about an expedition? You needn't let them old drunks get your minds racing. Anyways, it's about a half-days journey to the ruins anyways! Come stay the night, have more ale, spend more money!"