Hollow's Last Hope (Inactive)

Game Master Wandering Wastrel

Region map I BATTLE MAP I LOOT I MONASTERY


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The small town of Falcon’s Hollow is a wild place. Nestled in the shadow of Droskar’s Crag, the people of Falcon’s Hollow are hearty and stern. Theirs is a life of hardships, broken only occasionally by a handful of festivals and the infrequent merchant caravan.

They face constant adversity from both the wilderness and the wiles of man. Wolves nip at their heels and cutpurses ply at their pockets. It is a testament to their strength that they even manage to survive at all.

Falcon’s Hollow has always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. Meanwhile, the uncaring lumber barons squeeze the common folk for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. Now the hacking coughs of the sick are heard throughout town. The plague has come to Falcon’s Hollow and the town’s leaders can’t be bothered to stop it.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

Ethan's hand drifts over the walls and bench seat of the carriage's interior. It was a new experience for him, traveling in such comfort. In all his years, the closest he had experienced to this was sitting on the back of an oxcart, and that was nowhere near as comfortable as the cool, shaded interior he currently enjoyed.

Part of him felt guilty for accepting Master Minsc's offer to travel together. He certainly couldn't have afforded this one his own, and the elderly gentleman refused any offer of recompense.

One does not always have to be the one to offer help. There are times when it is for the good of all that we gratefully accept it when offered us. Ethan could hear Old Delbyr's words echoing in his mind. His mentor had a way of saying things that sounded like nonsense - up until the moment the words revealed themselves as profound wisdom.

"My thanks to you for inviting me to travel in your carriage, Master Minsc," Ethan said again. How many times have I said it? I hope I'm not making myself out to be someone sycophantic rube. "After months of walking beside muddy wagon ruts, this certainly is a welcome respite for worn and tired feet."


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Abelard carefully and meticulously closes the book he was reading, being sure bookmark his place for later, before setting it on the cushioned bench next to him. The book, a hefty tome with a leather cover containing the gold inlaid words "Darkmoon Vale: A Brief History" settles deep into the pillow, releasing a small puff of dust into the air.

With a kind voice and a soft chuckle, he says "Son, I am as happy to have you in my carriage now as I was when you thanked me only moments ago. In truth, it is a very small sacrifice to make on my part since we are, in fact, traveling to the same location and this carriage was designed for multiple passengers. And as far as your comfort goes, it is good practice walking the more difficult path while you are young so that you may still be around to ride in comfort when you are old. Even still, I am glad to have your company on this journey. As much as I enjoy my reading, nothing stimulates the mind quite so well as good conversation. So, Mr. Sower, what would you like to discuss? History? Politics? Current events? What do you think about when you are not forced to ponder anything in particular? "

Perhaps I've come on too strongly. It's been quite a while since I've spoken with anyone outside of the archives. Quite a while since I've spoken to anyone really... Maybe he will come to regret this invitation to ride along with me after all. At least he seems polite enough to feign listening to my ramblings.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

Ethan's eyes light up at the question. "That is the sort of question Old Delbyr liked to ask; questions not so much to be answered as to be explored. When I am walking the roads from town to town, I tend to dwell on my sense of worth and purpose to Erastil. There is, after all, a certain irony to being a wandering missionary for a god who desires people to settle down and establish strong ties with others. How do I show people that this is the best way to live if I do not do so myself? On the other hand, I can hardly call myself a missionary if I stay in one place."

He pauses a moment trying to feel out Abelard's interest in the line of discussion.

"If you would prefer to discuss history or politics, I will certainly do my best to keep pace with the discussion, but be forewarned, I have no formal schooling in those subjects."


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Without missing a beat, Abelard dives into the conversation.

"Ah, now that is an interesting quandary indeed. You say that Erastil teaches you to live in community and build strong relationships with others. Have you considered that, in a way, you are doing just that? While you, yourself, may be a traveler, the message you bring allows others to build the communities and relationships that Erastil desires. In my mind, that makes you truly commendable. You forgo the benefits of community for yourself so that others might have them. I spent much of life acquiring knowledge for myself, but only in my later years have I come to the realization that none of that matters if I do not use the knowledge I've gained for some purpose. For me, that purpose it to preserve and pass on the knowledge of those who have been forgotten so that the next generation can remember them. If your heart is in the right place, your actions are sure to follow. At least that's what I believe."

As Abelard waits for a response, he begins rifling through his bag in an attempt to find something.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

"Yes, my calling is one of service and sacrifice," Ethan replies. Catching on the Abelard's last sentiment, Ethan queries: "I am curious. Could you elaborate on your belief that good intentions lead to right actions?"


Abelard/Ethan - let's say you both got into town about a week ago so you've had some time to settle in but are still newcomers.

DAY ZERO

GM Screen:

A: 4d10 ⇒ (7, 2, 4, 1) = 14

B: 4d10 ⇒ (8, 2, 10, 9) = 29

E: 4d10 ⇒ (3, 6, 2, 3) = 14

M: 4d10 ⇒ (9, 7, 5, 3) = 24

P?: 4d10 ⇒ (7, 7, 1, 4) = 19

Toll = 1

In the past week, numerous residents of Falcon’s Hollow have fallen ill, each suffering from the same hacking affliction. Local remedies prove as useless as prayers at the Church of Iomedae, and today town elder Barant Thyklos was the first to be claimed by the wheezing death. Thyklos was one of the oldest people in Falcon’s Hollow, always ready to regale anyone in the local tavern, Jak’a’napes, with stories of the Great Winter of ‘48 or the Hobgoblin Raids of ‘69 and ‘73.

The only bit of good news is that the local herbalist, Laurel Gebre, owner of Roots and Remedies, has traced the source of the malady to Brookman’s well, a small spring on the edge of town, and a rare fungus called blackscour. By banning the use of the spring, the town constabulary hopes to prevent further infection, but such measures offer little respite to those already afflicted.

News of Thyklos's death spread through the town rapidly, and this evening the local priestess of Iomedae posted the following notice in the town square:

Citizens of Falcon's Hollow, let us work together to overcome this hardship. Your leaders may not care, but I do - and so does my goddess. Join me at dawn tomorrow at the church to hear more.

-- Cirthana Gensar, Sword-Knight of the Second


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Ethan in the Carriage:
Abelard continues fumbling in his bag for a moment more until he produces a quill, an inkwell, and what appears to be a journal. Abelard begins jotting down a few notes without any particular haste and replies, "It's really more of an assessment based on my experience. If someone truly wishes to do good with pure motives, I believe they will find it quite difficult to do anything else. Of course I'm speaking in terms of the grand scheme of life. Everyone makes mistakes along the way and good people with good intentions can certainly bring about terrible evil if they do not remain vigilant."

Arrival One Week Prior:
Upon arriving, Abelard invites Ethan to accompany him to meet with his grandson Gerald. After introducing Ethan, he likely spends most of the day catching up with Gerald and inquiring about the town, his work, the people, etc. In the evening, Abelard accompanies Gerald to the local tavern where he requests a mug of water and waits to jump in on any particularly stimulating conversation. In the meantime, he listens carefully to the chatter in the tavern and tries to get a general feel for the town and its people.

Perhaps this is where Abelard meets Boruk and/or Merrick?

Present Day:
Upon seeing the notice from Cirthana Gensar, Abelard makes plans to attend the meeting on the following morning. I wonder if this meeting will contain any useful information or if will simply be an attempt to console the people and prevent more hysteria. After jotting down a reminder in his journal, Abelard moves with haste to visit the local herbalist to see if he might be able to assist her in any way. As he arrives at her shop, Abelard knocks on the door and proclaims, "I have heard you are working on a cure for this sickness and I have come to offer my help."


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

Abelard in the Carriage:

Ethan nods. "I have found similar circumstances to be true. For all of those who are struggling to survive, and who are grateful for a helping hand, there always seem to be a small number who will not lift a finger to help themselves and will furthermore curse you for not providing them with all the necessities of life." He shakes his head. "I struggle with this. I do not wish to see people suffer, but how do I protect them from themselves?"

Upon Arrival:

Ethan exchanges introductions with Gerald, and joins Abelard and his nephew in the tavern. He shares tales of some of his travels and his experiences.

Present Day:

Upon seeing the posting, Ethan's resolve is set. "I will come to the meeting. Iomedae is an ally to Erastil. If one of her priests calls for aid, I have not doubts that it is for good reason."


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

One week prior:
A stocky dwarf with dirty blonde hair, shaved at the sides and tied back into a shoulder-length braid, ambles into the tavern. He looks around with piercing green eyes and, spotting Gerald, smiles and waves at him, then walks on over. Ah, Gerald. There you are. Fancy a nice pint?

As he says this he notices that the other two beside Gerald at the bar turn as he greets his friend. Your friends are welcome to a pint too. He looks more closely at Abelard, noticing his more advanced years and scholarly outfit. This isn't your Grandfather I've heard so much about by any chance? Abelard, I think you said?

Boruk holds out a callused palm, with some traces of soot from the forge still present. Nice to meet you both.

Present Day:
Boruk was quite familiar with and had liked Thyklos, often listening to some of his stories over a pint of ale in the tavern after a hard days work at the forge. His death and the declining health of some of the other townsfolk he had grown close to worried him. Not being one to sit back, he decided to help immediately upon seeing the notice.

I won't sit back and helplessly see those close to me die again.

Besides, rumors of a sickness in Falcon's Hollow would all but stop the flow of adventurers and explorers to the area, making the task of finding his ancestors home even more difficult.


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Ethan in the Carriage:
"I'm afraid this answer may not be the one you hoped for, but the way I see it, you can't protect others from themselves. You can protect them from others and from yourself , but to protect someone from themselves, you would need to control their every thought. And that, my friend is not an easy task for those who possess the capabilities and an impossible task for most. No, all we can do is provide them with a fighting chance by granting them knowledge and aid when they request it."

Abelard ponders for a moment what he has just said and then leans his head out of the carriage window to ask the driver how far he is from Falcon's Hollow.

To Boruk in the Tavern:
Abelard takes Boruk's hand firmly and replies "It is indeed! Abelard Misc, delighted to make your acquaintance. If memory serves me right, you must be Boruk, the dwarf my grandson mentioned in his letter. I hear there is a matter that I may be able to assist you with. Please, do tell me more of your ancestral home."

Abelard takes a seat, retrieves his quill, ink, and journal, and prepares to listen intently.


Male Half-elf Ranger 1 ║ HP 11/11 ║ AC 15, T 13, FF 12 ║ F +3, R +5, W +2 ║ Init +3, Perc +11 ║ Ammo 18

PRESENT
Merrick wasn't usually one to spend time at the Jak'a'napes, but with the incoming illness sweeping through the town and afflicting his mother, he spends a few hours there each evening trying to gather any information that he might use to treat her. The discovery of the fungus came as a slight relief, but only in knowing that no others should fall ill. Yet, his mother was still sick and the water ban wasn't doing anything to cure her. To think that it was old Brookman's Well. Had I not been consumed with work, I could have easily found myself camped under the stars out there and been exposed myself...

Merrick makes his way once more to the Jak'a'nape intent on venting his frustration with the town leaders' inaction. In passing through the town square, he stops as he does at the notice board. Reading the message from Cirthana fills him with skeptical excitement. He can't help but scoff at the notion that Iomadae, or any God for that matter, would be bothered by the goings on of the struggling Falcon's Hollow. Nevertheless, he commits to meeting at the church at the designated time. With thoughts of what could possibly be in store, he arrives at the tavern and takes a seat at the far end of the bar, preferring not to be too much in the thick of things. "I'll take some water if you have any that's not sourced from the spring. Otherwise, I guess some mead will do. And an apple and bread as well." He sits back, an eye on the door in the hopes that Boruk or Gerald aren't too far behind.

I figure since Merrick wouldn't be one to frequent the tavern, it's unlikely he'd have an involved interaction like what's being carried out. Mostly just quick introductions in passing on the streets or taking a break from regular business.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

Carriage:

Ethan sighs. "That's the problem. I know it, but I haven't resolved how I feel about it. Inaction, indifference, apathy. In so many ways these are far more dangerous to a community that an aggressive foe or ambitious tyrant." Ethan steeples his fingers and ponders. "I appreciate your indulging me in conversation, Master Minsc. Your knowledge, insight and experience are invaluable, and I am glad that you have chosen to share them not just with me, but with all those in need of it."

Boruk in Tavern:

"Well met," Ethan says grasping Boruk's hand in a firm, friendly shake and noticing the the callouses wrought of hard work. "I am Ethan Sower, a missionary of the Church of Erastil."


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Carriage:
Abelard smiles and gives Ethan a nod before reaching to pick up his book once more.
As he does, he says, "Your willingness to listen is far more meaningful than my willingness to share. You see, we who are old have only the choice to share our experiences or to be silent. You, however, can do much beyond sitting and listening. Thus, you have already shown me the highest form of appreciation. If you continue on your present path, I see greatness in your future. I hope that we may meet again sometime after we diverge at Falcon's Hollow."
With that, Abelard returns to the bookmarked section where he last left off and continues in his reading.


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

At the tavern one week prior:
Almost forgot to introduce myself, Boruk of Clan Craghammer at yer service. Boruk shakes both of the men's hands.

To Abelard: Indeed, there is. Give me a moment to wash the soot from my throat and I'll explain the full story.

To Ethan: Erastil, eh? Your church believes in tradition, hard work, community and families if I'm not mistaken? Values any good dwarf would agree with. Well met, indeed.

Boruk motions the barkeep over. A round of drinks for my friends here. He turns back to the group, What would you like to drink?

After the drinks have arrived, Boruk sits down and explains the story behind the disappearance of his clan's home; the eruption of Droskar's Crag, the presumed destruction of everything in Jernashall and the recent discovery that not everything in Jernashall was destroyed as thought.

There's a bit more information in the background section of Boruk's profile if you're interested

Present Day
@Merrick: I presume you're at the tavern the day before the church meeting?

Having read the notice about the meeting, Boruk heads towards the tavern, hoping to ask some of his friends in town what they were planning on doing.

Upon entering the tavern, he looks around and, seeing Merrick at the far end of the bar, walks over to him.

Merrick, it's good to see you! How is your Mother? I hope she's feeling better. Did you hear about the meeting tomorrow? I plan on going to see if I can help. Are you going?


DAY ONE

GM Screen:
Toll: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Iomedae - and her priests - are not popular in Falcon's Hollow. The Lumber Consortium do not appreciate Iomedae's focus on the rule of law, and justice. They make it known that association with the church can be bad for the health, and most people take the hint. So it's not a huge surprise that nobody else but yourselves has turned up.

This morning they have expressed their displeasure with Cirthana Gensar's public notice by leaving the bodies of two dismembered water-hounds (otters) just outside the gates of the churchyard. The priestess is in the process of burying them as you arrive. Her strong hands stab the spade into the soil, before scooping up the unfortunate creatures' remains and dropping them into the freshly-dug grave. She expertly replaces the turf on top and stamps it down, before putting the spade down and looking at you.


Oleg Leveton

Cirthana Gensar is in her early thirties, with tired - but resolute - eyes that have seen a great deal and which see further through a brick wall than most. In the almost ten years she's been posted here, she has had nothing in the way of support or welcome, but has stayed steadfast to her ideals and her Goddess. Much to the dismay of the Consortium, who were hoping she could be bribed or browbeaten into compliance. But they don't dare touch her directly.

After a short pause, making sure that she has met each of your gaze, she speaks: "Welcome. I had hoped to clear that... little offering... up before anyone arrived, but it took longer than I thought - the soil here is close-packed." She looks around. "I think this is all the numbers we are going to get, but Our Lady teaches us that even a little leaven is enough for the whole loaf."

She gives a quiet smile. "Please, come in."

The church has seen better days - better centuries, even. Built when Falcon's Hollow was still young, it is a mass of grey, buttressed stone, but the years have not been kind to it. Ivy grows rampant, smothering the walls and pulling off the tiles. The church tower crumbled long ago and was dismantled for safety reasons: only the rotting scaffolding indicates where it used to be. The inside is dark and cold, smelling of damp and disuse.

Cirthana has arranged a circle of chairs, easily enough for all of you, and there is a steaming kettle and some clay mugs, and a plate full of crusty bread. "No jam, I'm afraid, but I have nettle tea. Please help yourselves."


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Tavern One Week Prior:
Abelard listens carefully to every detail of Boruk's tale, occasionally taking notes of key figures and moments in his journal. Then, he sits in silence for a few moments searching his memories to see if height recall some useful bit of information.

Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Knowledge (Geography): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

If Abelard recalls anything useful, he relays it to Boruk

Present Day

As Cirthana enters the building, Abelard lingers outside for a few moments, standing perfectly still and staring at what used to be a magnificent temple. An almost pained look sweeps across his face as though he is physically hurt by the current state of this place.

So much history...lost. How could anyone allow this to happen to such a beautiful place? After this situation with the plague is resolved, if indeed it can be resolved, I will help to preserve what's left of this place. What a terrible shame...

After a few more moments, Abelard enters the church and takes a seat. He accept the offer of nettle tea and takes a sip before asking "My dear lady, are you the only member of Iomedae's priesthood at this particular temple? I am surprised that none of the others decided to attend this meeting. The situation seems far too dire to let personal grievances get in the way of finding a cure for this plague. Well, either way, I am Abelard Minsc, and though this is not what I expected to find on my trip to Falcon's Hollow, I will aid you in any way that I can."

Grand Lodge

M Human Witch 2 [AC 11, T 11, FF 10] [HP 8/16] [F+1 R+1 W+4] [Init +7, Perc +5]

Parundar rushes through town with his bag flopping on his back, his bunny rabbit curiously poking its head out to see what the fuss is about.

"Crap, crap, crap! I cannot believe I overslept!"

He reaches the old cathedral and tries to knock on the door several times. Waiting only a second, his worry and rush compel him to throw open the door and run inside. He sees that everyone has clearly already been seated for a while and turns bright red.

"I... am... so sorry..." He pants, trying to get the words out while struggling to get the breath back in.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

Ethan accepts the bread and tea offered. "Well met, Inheritor's Disciple. I am Ethan Sower, Missionary of Erastil." Ethan gives her a respectful bow of his head. "How may I be of assistance to you?"


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Boruk, knowing that Iomedae wasn't exactly popular in town, arrives at the church in full fighting gear. He had seen, and even been involved in, some of the religious brawls that erupted in town every so often and decided caution wouldn't go amiss.

He looks at Cirthana burying the water-hounds with a puzzled expression on his face, Hmm...why water-hounds I wonder?

@GM Is there a relevance to the otters that Boruk might know? I can roll for it if necessary.

Upon seeing the stonework up close, and in such poor condition, he winces, By Torag's singed beard, no Dwarf worth even half his weight in ale would let the stonework get to this condition. I knew the temple wasn't popular, but I had no idea it was this bad.
His respect for Cirthana rises at the endurance and stubbornness required to stay in town for so long while facing these conditions.

He nods to Cirthana, It might not be ale but I'm thankful for yer hospitality nonetheless. He gets some of the bread and a cup of the tea, takes a gulp and then pauses, I hope that tea wasn't made using water from Brookman's well. Oh well, it's too late now anyway. He continues to drink his tea, then turns to Cirthana, No good dwarf would stand idly by while friends or family are sick, I'd also like to help if I can.


Male Half-elf Ranger 1 ║ HP 11/11 ║ AC 15, T 13, FF 12 ║ F +3, R +5, W +2 ║ Init +3, Perc +11 ║ Ammo 18

Merrick rises the morning of the scheduled meeting early enough to gather some fresh pine needles and herbs to make a fresh pot of pine tea for his mother. He gathers his belongings, prepared for a personal scouting trip to Brookman's Well in the event that Cirthana's plans are underwhelming. With everything in hand, he quickly cuts through town towards the old, worn down church.

When he arrives at the dilapidated building, he can't help but appreciate nature's ability to thrive where such an incredible man-made marvel cannot. When he approaches Cirthana, the sight of the dead water-hounds leaves his stomach in knots. He's certainly hunted plenty in his time, but they were never pointless kills to be used for such a vain purpose. He gives Boruk a welcoming nod and follows the group inside. The nettle tea is one of favorites, and certainly working to warm him up to Cirthana and drop his skeptical guard slightly. Merrick had never spoken more than a passing greeting with the holy woman, but looking around the church and realizing her dedication, he begins to see in a new, more favorable light.

As the group takes their seats inside, Merrick quickly scans the other strangers, dropping his heavy bag on the ground next to him. He saw them arrive earlier in the week but never made formal introductions. His eyes first land on Ethan, Another holy man. I can't say I'm surprised, situations like these usually attract the missionaries. He seems nice enough, though. When Abelard finishes his introduction, Merrick can't help but feel guilty for his cynical feelings before the meeting and nods in agreement. In times like these, solidarity is a strong ally, no denying that. When the time is right, he nods to the others and introduces himself. "My names Merrick, here with in the hopes of finding a cure for my mother. She's been for a few days now."


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

While sitting in the circle, a thought crosses Abelard's mind that he had not yet considered. I wonder...was this plague the result of an intentional poisoning of that well or was it simply a product of chance or negligence that allowed the blackscour to fester?

Grand Lodge

M Human Witch 2 [AC 11, T 11, FF 10] [HP 8/16] [F+1 R+1 W+4] [Init +7, Perc +5]

Parundar shrinks down in his chair, noticing the stark contrast in wisdom and authority between the great humanitarians he sees before him... and himself. I hope I don't hold them back...


Oleg Leveton

@Boruk - no, they're just the Consortium's way of saying 'back off'

Abelard Minsc wrote:
"My dear lady, are you the only member of Iomedae's priesthood at this particular temple? I am surprised that none of the others decided to attend this meeting. The situation seems far too dire to let personal grievances get in the way of finding a cure for this plague. Well, either way, I am Abelard Minsc, and though this is not what I expected to find on my trip to Falcon's Hollow, I will aid you in any way that I can."

Cirthana sips her tea while considering Abelard's question, as if wondering how much of the church's internal politics she wants to reveal to a relative stranger. "I am the only priest here. Falcon's Hollow is far from the beaten track, and with recent events in Mendev, Lastwall, and even Cheliax we are stretched thinner than ever we have been. And as for the others: you saw the little gift that was left for me. The Consortium is hated by many, yes, but it is also feared. I am not surprised. And your aid, is gratefully accepted, Abelard Minsc." She smiles, looking suddenly a little more youthful.

Parundar Wair wrote:

He reaches the old cathedral and tries to knock on the door several times. Waiting only a second, his worry and rush compel him to throw open the door and run inside. He sees that everyone has clearly already been seated for a while and turns bright red.

"I... am... so sorry..." He pants, trying to get the words out while struggling to get the breath back in.

The priestess looks at him kindly. "You are not late, we have not properly started. Help yourself to some fresh nettle tea and bread. Poor breakfast, but better than many have."

Merrick Greenheart wrote:
"My names Merrick, here with in the hopes of finding a cure for my mother. She's been for a few days now."

"Merrick. I am glad you are here. I am sorry to hear of your mother. She joins many that are in my prayers."

Ethan Sower wrote:
"Well met, Inheritor's Disciple. I am Ethan Sower, Missionary of Erastil." Ethan gives her a respectful bow of his head. "How may I be of assistance to you?"

Cirthana gives an equally formal bow of her head in acknowledgement. "Well met, Missionary of the Dead-eyed God, though the circumstances be unfortunate."

Boruk Craghammer wrote:
No good dwarf would stand idly by while friends or family are sick, I'd also like to help if I can.

Cirthana nods at both Ethan and Boruk. "You both get to the point of it - what can be done? I have prayed and I have cast some of the most powerful magics that I know, and I now know for sure that the answer lies with Laurel Gebre and her herbalist shop."

She makes a face of dislike. "It is no secret that Laurel and I are not allies. I have spoken often about her so-called cures and the way that she takes the money of desperate people in return for little more than coloured water. She in turn has... well, that doesn't matter. The point is I cannot ask for her aid, just as she will not seek mine. But I know she has an answer for this malady. The Inheritor has never yet steered me wrongly when I have called on her directly."

She looks at you all. "I therefore need your help. Please go to Laurel and find out what she knows. It may be that she is not aware of knowing it. My guidance was only to seek her aid, not what form it might take. But know this: my answer was both weal and woe. There is risk involved, although I cannot answer what."

She sets her empty cup down and refills it with hot nettle tea. "I said earlier that we are stretched thin: many times over the last century money allocated to this church has been requisitioned for more urgent need elsewhere. But my superiors have recently agreed to fund some of the rebuilding on this church and have set aside some money. I can use that for the purpose of saving this town. You do not do this for money, but you may have need of it. I can therefore offer each of you 100 in gold if you will agree to seek answers from Laurel and then undertake whatever may be needed to find a cure."


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Looking at Cirthana, So if I'm hearing ye right...Laurel may have a remedy or know where to get one and we just have to persuade her to help?

Boruk looks around at the others who came to help, I don't know what talents the rest of ye have, but sweet-talkin' isn't exactly my area of expertise. I can do some persuadin' for sure, Boruk says, patting the dwarven waraxe hanging by his side, but it could cause trouble with the local watch and I'd prefer to avoid that if I can, living here and all. I'll do what I have to if it comes to that, but it might be better to have her willingly help us. A good mead needs a little honey, after all.

Boruk turns back to Cirthana, I thank ye kindly for the offer of a reward. A copper piece from a pauper is worth more than from a king, and I know ya could probably use that gold yerself. Ne nods at Cirthana with respect.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

"I will speak with Ms. Gebre," Ethan offers. "I am used to speaking with people who are initially reticent or unfriendly. It is an unfortunate side-effect of mission work. Perhaps I can persuade her to take the good of the community into consideration over her personal feelings."


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Abelard continues drinking his tea while considering all that has been said. I have only just arrived here and the intricacies of these personal conflicts are largely unknown to me. It would be wise to reserve judgement until both sides of this particular story have been heard. However, someone who withholds treatment from the sick and provides them with false remedies, all for money, is a fiend whose company I will not suffer for long.

Looking toward Cirthana, Abelard asks "I wonder, my lady, did Iomedae grant you any insight as to whether this plague was the result of an intentional poisoning or simply an unfortunate coincidence?"

Abelard continues "Either way, I am happy to accompany my friends down the road to visit this herbalist. We will find out what she knows and hopefully test her knowledge against mine so that we are not misled into pursuing a false remedy."

Finally, Abelard pauses for a long moment and looks Cirthana directly in her eyes. With utter sincerity and a slight smile, he says,"What you offer to me is a kingly sum and one that could be well used to repair this place. I must decline your offer of coin. Seeing this temple returned to even a small portion of its former glory is a greater gift to me than you realize."


Oleg Leveton

The priestess looks relieved at your offer to assist. "Thank you, all of you. Please let me know what you find out from Laurel."

Abelard Minsc wrote:
Looking toward Cirthana, Abelard asks "I wonder, my lady, did Iomedae grant you any insight as to whether this plague was the result of an intentional poisoning or simply an unfortunate coincidence?"

Cirthana blinks at the question, in surprise. "Laurel discovered the one of the local springs had become tainted with a fungus. There is no suggestion of poison. She is an excellent herbalist and I trust her judgement on this, whatever disagreements we may have."

So... on to the herbalist?


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

"Thank you for your insight," Ethan replies, giving her another respectful bow. "Could you direct us to Ms. Gebre's apothecary?"


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Boruk is ready to go to the herbalist, unless anyone wants to do something else here?

I know where Laurel's shop is, I can show ye where it is. Follow me.


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Abelard is ready to go.


Male Half-elf Ranger 1 ║ HP 11/11 ║ AC 15, T 13, FF 12 ║ F +3, R +5, W +2 ║ Init +3, Perc +11 ║ Ammo 18

Listening to the old scholar's question of poisoning, a brief wave of anger overwhelms him. If the contamination was somehow intentional, I swear there'll be justice.

Merrick bows at Cirthana's offer of reward and says, "The reward is much appreciated and quite the kind gesture, but I'd rather than money go to the victims of this illness."

As they rise to visit Laurel, Merrick catches up with Boruk and says under his breath. "Quite an interesting group we've got. I thought it'd just be you and me. Shame more locals didn't show."

Ready


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Boruk turns towards Merrick while walking and nods his head, Aye, interesting group alright.

Boruk takes a quick look around, Ye know how the Consortium feels about the church here. That's the reason, Boruk says and spits on the ground. Most of the locals rely on them to put some food on the table, so what the Consortium believes they believe. Ye don't piss on the forge when yer heating yer metal, after all.

Only a few of the more capable locals with a bit of fire to them, like yerself or the sheriff, are willing to do anything that might annoy them. I'm just too stubborn to back down from what I want to do, he says with a grin.

Grand Lodge

M Human Witch 2 [AC 11, T 11, FF 10] [HP 8/16] [F+1 R+1 W+4] [Init +7, Perc +5]

Parundar takes a big bite and thanks the Priestess through a mouthful of bread.

Hearing everyone's statements of altruism, Parundar nods enthusiastically. "I agree completely." No money can buy the redemption I'm after.

Parundar laughs a few seconds late at Boruk's "Ye don't piss on the forge when yer heating yer metal."

He turns to Boruk, "Do you know anything about Laurel? Will she be difficult to persuade?


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Boruk looks back at Parundar, Hmmm... he says, tugging at his beard. The priestess has the right of it I think. Most of the townsfolk go to her for remedies for their ailments but, like the priestess says, she mostly deals in colored water or love potions and the like. That being said, she does try and help the townsfolk if she can. I think, like most folk, she's just trying to keep food on the table and ale in her mug.

He pauses for a moment and adds, She could do with a bit more food too, to put some meat on her bones. She looks like an ingot that's been pounded flat.

As to how difficult she'll be to persuade, he shrugs, I've no idea. I reckon' she'll be willing to help the townsfolk, but if not, Boruk scowls and pats his axe, I'll get her talking. Hopefully, it won't come to that.

@GM, I'm basing most of this on the information that is generally available for Falcon's Hollow and it's residents and that I think Boruk would know having lived here for a number of years. Let me know if you don't think Boruk should know this.


@Boruk - that's absolutely fine

The herbalist, Laurel Gebre, owns and runs an establishment called Roots and Remedies, the go-to place for every sick person in town, or person who's convinced they're sick.

And right now, that's most of the town.

Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the façade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop bearing the faded sign “Roots and Remedies.” Even this early in the morning, a long line of somber townsfolk — some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming o be precipitously near tears — stretches from the closed door, not-so-patiently waiting for it to open for the day.

It's going to be a long wait to get to the front.

OK, so you have 2 choices:

(1) Wait in line for over an hour

(2) Push past everyone to get in the shop as soon as it opens

I'll go with the majority vote if it's split.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

GM Wastrel: How many people can we estimate are in line? Of those how many are children under the age of, say, 10 years old?


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Noticing the long line, Abelard turns to the group and says, "Although our task is of the utmost importance, I do not feel that moving ahead of those who have been waiting would be wise. It could create even more tension in a town that is already on edge. By my estimate, we should be at the front of the line in an hour or two and perhaps we can speak with some of the sick in the meantime. If those of you who are more familiar with Falcon's Hollow disagree with this course of action, I gladly defer to you."

Abelard turns to the others with a hopeful look and waits for everyone to share their opinion. Time is of the essence here and waiting even an hour longer could result in deaths that could have been prevented. I wonder if I have made the correct choice or if I have simply chosen the path of least resistance. Only time will tell.

@GM If the group agrees the wait in line, Abelard wants to try to recall everything he can about Blackscour fungus so that he can be prepared to ask questions of the herbalist and perhaps add to her insight.


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Boruk is not a particularly patient person, he would struggle to keep his temper while waiting in line, especially if he thought he could help those waiting by going in first, so he would definitely suggest skipping if possible.

Boruk walks around the corner from Low Market, leading the group towards Laurel's shop, Shale! he swears when he sees the large queue in front of the shop. I should've bloody known there'd be a queue with most of the town sick.

Upon hearing what Abelard has to say, he grunts and starts tugging at his beard, thinking. I hear what yer saying and ye could be right. Even I can't fight my way through half the town, though, Gorum knows, I'd give it my best attempt, he says grinning.

He stops for a moment and then continues It might be worth explainin' to the crowd that we've a lead on a cure and that we need Laurel's help to do it. We could even show 'em we're not sick. Of course, we'll need good Master Sower here to pretty up the words a bit for it to work, he says patting Ethan on the back.

If the crowd don't buy it, we can just head back to the end of the queue. It's worth a swing anyway, every hour we save could save a life and we'll be a while at the end of that, he says pointing at the queue.

He turns toward Ethan, Might want to avoid mentionin' the good priestess though, she's not that popular with this lot, he says nodding towards the crowd.

What do ye think?, he asks, looking at the others.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

Ethan gives a nod of acknowledgement as Boruk's pat on the back prods him to the front of the group.

"My friends," he begins in a loud, clear voice, doing his best to be heard over the wheezing, coughing and general bustle of the waiting throng. "My name is Ethan Sower. I am newly arrived in Falcon's Hollow, but I am all too aware of the Blackscour, and the suffering it has brought to your community. My companions and I wish to find a cure for the disease. I realize my face is as unfamiliar to you as my name, and you may not recognize others in our group. However, you must certainly know Masters Craghammer and Greenheart as your own. They, too, are willing to strike out in search of a remedy for your affliction. If, however, we are to find what is needed to brew an efficacious medicine, we must know what ingredients need collecting. I know that several of you have been patiently waiting since dawn's first light to see Mistress Gebre, and that our sudden arrival should, by rights, put us at the end of the line. Please notice, however, that none of us bear signs of sickness. We are not here for any poultices or panaceas. We are here only to consult with your herbalist, obtain a list of ingredients, and be on our way. The sooner we begin searching, the sooner we shall return with what is needed to brew a cure. I ask only that you please allow us to step in and speak with Mistress Gebre immediately. We will take as little of her and your precious time as possible, then we will be on our way."

He holds his hands out palms up, as if a beggar calling for alms.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24 +2 more if unfriendly or hostile
(This roll occurred in the original post I accidentally submitted in the Discussion thread. I just copied and pasted the results over here, if that's okay. If not, let me know, and I'll submit another roll.)


Ethan: around 2 dozen adults and maybe half a dozen children

There's a certain amount of resentment and grumbling, but also a general agreement that Ethan's words are worth listening to.

Without anybody actually saying anything, the line shuffles slightly leaving a space at the front for the group.


Svetlana Leveton

The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense chokes the air of the cramped, mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, alchemical apparatuses, and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner of dried, preserved, and jellied animal parts fill high shelves and tables doing double duty as displays and workspaces.

In the shop’s rear, a rail-thin woman with severe-l­ooking spectacles and hair pulled back tightly busies herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, a table covered in stray powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly b­ubbling over with thick gray froth.

Over the din of her work and without looking up, the woman impatiently shouts, “And what’s your problem?”

Grand Lodge

M Human Witch 2 [AC 11, T 11, FF 10] [HP 8/16] [F+1 R+1 W+4] [Init +7, Perc +5]

Parundar is fidgeting with anxiety about jumping ahead of all the sick people, and is trying to convince himself that it's okay because the party's mission will save everyone here in the long run. Logically, he knows it's sound, but his emotions tie his stomach into a knot.

Laurel's impatience and volume make him jump. "I'm sorry, Miss Gebre, we're here to help! We want to fix all of this. We just need to know what we need to gather.


Male Human Cleric of Erastil 2 l AC 17 T 13 FF 14 l HP 15/15 l F +4 R +2 W +6 l Init +2 l Perc +3 I CMB +0 I CMD 12

"We share the same concern as all in Falcon's Hollow, Ms. Gebre. We are not ill with the Blackscour, but we have come to assist in finding the cure. It is our understanding that, given the proper ingredients, you would be able to brew a medicine. We are volunteering to retrieve those ingredients on your behalf. We need only a list of them, and guidance on where to find them," Ethan replies in a calm, polite tone.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23 +2 more if unfriendly or hostile.


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Abelard looks around, taking in the sights and smells of the shop. He tries to find a particularly obscure ingredient that he can identify among those on the shelves to prove himself competent to Laurel. After Parundar speaks, Abelard follows with "Indeed we are. I attempted to come by this past evening, but you had already shut down for the day. I am Abelard Minsc and I seek to do whatever is necessary to cure these poor people of the blackscour's sickness. What remedies have you tried so far? I'm no herbalist, but I do know something of rare ingredients. I see you have some @GM insert appropriate rare ingredient on your shelf there. Have you given that a try yet?


Male Dwarf Barbarian (2) | Ammo: Arrows 15, Daggers 2 | Rage: 5/9 Rounds | HP 21/31 (25/35) | AC 19 (17), T 12 (10), FF 17 (15) | F +6 (+8), R +2, W +0 (+2) [+3 save Vs spells/SLA/Poison] | CMD 17 (15 FF) | Init +2 | Per +5, Darkvision 60ft

Wow, nice rolls Ethan!

Boruk walks into the shop with the others, trying not to say or do anything that might interfere with their negotiating.

As Ethan, Parundar and Abelard talk with Laurel, he notices a glass jar, containing a pair of remarkably humanoid-looking eyes floating in a viscous liquid. They seem to be looking at him. He shudders and takes a few steps to the left; the eyes seem to follow him as he moves. He shudders even more and whispers I bloody hate this place! to himself. He tries to ignore the burning sensation of the eyes on his back and concentrate on the conversation.


Male Human Wizard (conjurer) 2║ AC 12 [16] , T 12 [16] , FF 10 [14] ║ HP 18/18║ F+2, R+2, W+4║ Init +4 , Perc +1║

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27


Male Half-elf Ranger 1 ║ HP 11/11 ║ AC 15, T 13, FF 12 ║ F +3, R +5, W +2 ║ Init +3, Perc +11 ║ Ammo 18

When the group arrives at the herbalists shop, Merrick's heart drops at the long line gathering outside. He briefly considers breaking loose from his mission and heading out for a personal scouting mission before his new companion takes the lead. Seeing the crowd make room after Ethan's words leaves him quite impress. Merrick approaches Ethan with relief on his face. "I don't understand where you get the courage to address such a large crowd under these circumstances, but it's much appreciated."

Entering Gebre's shop, Merrick hangs back, preferring to let the others do the talking. The wealth of variety in the store provides plenty of distraction to occupy his eyes while he keeps his ears keen on the conversation at hand.


Svetlana Leveton

"Hoo-oo-oo!" Laurel gives an impressed whistle as Abelard effortlessly identifies the dried roots as giantsfoot trefoil. "So, you know your roots and herbs, eh? If so, you'll know that plant has seven uses - and none of 'em is for blackscour."

"Trouble is, I'm not sure what is for blackscour. Nasty stuff, that fungus: hard, bitter and sharp. You get that mold growing in you, it starts eating away in your chest and belly and is damned determined to stay. Your body near turns itself inside-out trying to hack the stuff up, but all that does is cuts your guts up... bad. But I've never heard of it growing round here before. Precious little lore anywhere about it."

Ethan Sower wrote:
"We share the same concern as all in Falcon's Hollow, Ms. Gebre. We are not ill with the Blackscour, but we have come to assist in finding the cure. It is our understanding that, given the proper ingredients, you would be able to brew a medicine. We are volunteering to retrieve those ingredients on your behalf. We need only a list of them, and guidance on where to find them," Ethan replies in a calm, polite tone.

She gives Ethan a very sharp look. "Where'd you hear that, then? Surely wasn't from me. But yes, it's true - maybe." She sighs. "My grandmother was a funny one, a wise woman they called her - to her face, anyway. Traded her sight to Ulizmila, the witch that lives deep in the woods, in exchange for knowledge. So the story goes. Me, I'm strictly about herbs and brews. No hoojoo."

"Anyway, my grandmother’s book has a brew in it that says it's good for this kind of thing. A weird concoction that sounds more like hoojoo than real medicine. Some rare roots and tinctures, most of which I have here, but there’s three I don’t. Elderwood moss, which I’ve never heard of, but granny says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in a forest. A specially pickled root called rat’s tail, again, sounds like hoojoo to me. And seven ironbloom mushrooms, stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear." She gives Boruk a quick, questioning look.

@Boruk: you can try a Lore (Jernashall) to see if you know anything about ironbloom mushrooms.

@Everyone: you can try a Knowledge nature, geography or local to see if you know anything useful about these things.

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