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The adventure begins in the town of Phaendar, nestled along the southern bank of the Marideth River, a stone’s throw from the Southern Fangwood Forest. Trade comes through the town over Phaendar Bridge, the only suitable place to traverse the swift, rapid-coursed river for 50 miles in either direction. The town of 400 residents rarely sees any excitement, making the Market Festival a major source of news, entertainment, and revenue. The 2-day affair, held once every 3 months, gathers farmers and herders from across the Nesmian Plains, as well as woodcutters from the nearby Fangwood and prospectors from the Hollow Hills, to trade for supplies and raw materials. Even traders from the “big city” of Tamran make their way to the event, swelling the town’s population to half again its normal size.
Phaendar’s Market Festival draws a crowd from all over Nirmathas, many solely to hear Aubrin the Green—the retired Chernasardo Ranger-turned-Caydenite cleric—recount bawdy tales of adventure from her youth. Outside, the celebration continues, as raucous shouts carry on the night air. Warmed by the firelight after a long day, any levity comes as a welcome reward to the rough, earthy souls of this riverside trade town.
Aubrin has been going from place to place, all the while telling stories. Seeking free drinks Aubrin has gone to the Taproot Inn.
“So there I am, thinking, when will I ever be able to talk to a bear again? So before the grizzly can stand back up, I turn to it and say, ‘All I need is the honey. You can keep the bees!’” The room erupts into laughter as Aubrin finishes her winding story and takes another draught from her tankard. “But it’s fine now. All’s good. She named a cub after me. Someday I’m going to have to check in on little Ow Oh Gods That’s Too Many Bees.”
Cedric wipes a tear of mirth from his eye as he takes some deep breaths to reduce the laughter to the point where he can take another drink without it going into his lungs instead of his stomach. His sense of humor has a weak point for bees, and the thought of a bear named after too many bees starts him up laughing again moments before he was about to finally be calmed down enough for the drink. He accepts defeat for the moment and puts the drink down so he doesn't accidentally waste any by sloshing it too vigorously as he shakes.
The senior priest can say what he wants about Caydenites being flighty and irresponsible drunks, but they always have a story or two that's worth hearing. While Cedric is very happy with his place in life, he still likes hearing the stories others tell of their adventures. It almost scratches that same itch in himself. Almost.
"Just how does a bear pronounce that anyway?" he wonders aloud, the mental image setting him off once again.
Market Festival was always busy for them, with the increase of people to their small town free time was precious. Some of the others spent it enjoying the festivities or trying to earn some extra coin selling some of leathers or other trinkets they’ve gathered since last festival. Caladra spent it the Taproot Inns tavern. Despite being off duty she still wore her greatsword against her back. It looked more like a polished chunk of metal than a proper sword. That along with the darkblight scar on her face tended to end confrontations in town before without having to draw her sword.
She hadn’t even started to really enjoy her first drink when she noticed Aubrin amongst a large crowd. Caladra rolls her eyes from a seat at the bar. This was her third Market Festival since being stationed as a town guard for Phaendar and at each one Aubrin seems to tell the same three stories. Almost a year ago when she was told she was coming here she didn’t believe her superior, she had never heard of the town. Ten months in and she wonders if it really needs a town guard. Aside from the occasional poacher and drunk, the town has always been a quiet one. She waved her hand at the barman and he brought her another drink. He only nodded and went back to the other travelers. Guess being a guard wasn’t so bad.
She noticed Cedric enjoying himself to one of Aubrin’s tales and sighed. She didn't know him personally, only that he was a member of the Church of Erastil and as such assumed he would enjoy Aubrin's stories no matter how often she told them.
”They can’t, they don’t even speak,” She muttered under her breath. The barman cocked an eyebrow at Caladra.
”Don’t be so sour, Caladra. It’s all in good fun,” He said to her. Caladra raised her upper lip in mock disgust and went back to her drink.
Ha! Aubrin is about the only thing Bree missed about this town.
It's nice to see so many new people have come(and brought their gold). Business was pretty brisk with her mother making a handy profit, and even Uncle Lars turning some coin. All in all, a good day, well deserving of a drink. And who knows, maybe someone in the bar will have some interesting news, or a tale of adventure of two.
"Another mead, please, barkeep." He turned from a grumpy guard and nodded in her direction. At least they've kept up with their mead. I'm so sick of ale. Hmm, how DOES a bear pronounce that, or anything for that matter.
Moving briskly but quietly through the crowd, Thorek runs through his mental tally of Kraggodan expatriates that live in the area--still a few he hasn't seen yet. Pausing by one of the stalls to purchase a pair of honey cakes, he idly scans the square.
Spying the sign of the Taproot Inn, the dwarf nods to himself. "Seems a likely place to check, Grunyar never could resist a drink free or otherwise." Adjusting the chain of the dorn-dergar looped around his shoulder he sets off, clearing the threshold just in time to hear something about bees and a wave of laughter.
Chuckling along despite not having heard the joke, Thorek makes his way to a corner seat and starts trying to scan the crowd for his wayward merchants. Waving off the serving girl, he struggles to catch a glimpse of dwarf amongst all these too-tall humans.
Boudra is sitting in what's become a customary place, on the occasions (rare though they are) that she visits the Taproot. Immediately near the fire, she has a good view of the room at large and is close to the spot where Aubrin, and any other performers, usually set up. She watches the Chernasardo ranger raptly, with glowing eyes but also a measure of focused attention that not all of the patrons in the inn display. The fact that she's only had a few sips of her honeyed mead probably helps.
When Aubrin delivers the punchline, she breaks into laughter along with the rest of the room. As she relaxes and enjoys her drink, she scans the crowd. Ah, of course Cedric would be here...and there's that new guard. She stares at Caladra for a few seconds. Her face...I'm not sure I could ever be that brave. She subconsciously twitches her cloak tighter around her, and shivers. Catching sight of the server, who's familiar with a few of her signs, she signs, "Stew, please." The other young woman smiles and heads off to retrieve it.
Lily eyes grow wide. This is he first time performing alone. Usually, she had her family to back her up if she made a mistake but this time she has no safety net. Relax. You've done this a million times. You'll make money and then enjoy the festival , she says to herself as she takes it her bow. Eyeing the area she decides the tavern would be the best place to perform.
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Cyrioul chuckles along with the rest of the laughter, shaking his head before taking a sip of his tea. He picks up his quill, absently twisting the ring on his hand before putting ink to paper again.
The activity has set back my hopes for finding exploration opportunities into the nearby forest areas. Securing assistance may prove difficult now that my funds are nearly depleted, but perhaps there is a local scout or hunter that will not mind my company as I look for reagents.
I know my limits - seeking the deeper places will require stalwart companions. Perhaps the festivities will embolden some to set out. It should be a simple matter to convince them of the wisdom inherent to arcane accompaniment in these lands. Who knows what secrets they may find?
Though I suppose that would require actually speaking up at a gathering such as this and making a helpful impression. Else the trip back to the capital may come more quickly than I anticipated, and Nethys knows that Lirithiel's credit in this town will not afford more than a wood floor an a few cups of tea to support my time here. Perhaps I can set up near a stall tomorrow and help to verify purchases, mystical or mundane. There's sure to be a few coins in that.
Elhona, you'd love the liveliness here. I'm sorry that your company required you to remain home, but I trust that you are enjoying yourself. If there is a trader heading back to Tamran in the next two days (certainly there shall), I will attempt to send you word of my arrival and goings on. I pray you are safe until I return, love.
Closing the journal, he returns his attention to the crowd, sipping his tea and eating the last crusts from his evening meal while thinking to himself.
"I wonder if any here could prove helpful companions? Certainly the guardswoman seems hardy, but likely tied to her duties.
"The dwarf looks as though he is seeking someone, too, but certainly not me. They are always about business, dwarves.
"That young woman seems to be preparing to perform - I wonder what? Elhona's company may have interest in her talents. The forest likely has little call for her.
"Did I see that woman at one of the merchant stalls earlier? She will be busy for at least the next day, certainly.
"Perhaps the woman by the fire, or that man struggling to hold in his drink - such mirth! They have the appearance of adventurous types, and may be amenable to a foray into the woods."
Cyrioul shakes his head to clear it. "A problem for the morning, then. Let's see what the next tale tells."
Caladra eyed people as they entered the Taproot, habit. Even when she was off the clock she was still ready to help stop a fight if needed. She noticed one girl walk in that carried herself different than the others, like that of a performer. She seemed to relax slightly as she didn’t recognize her. ”Finally, someone new to hopefully put on a show,” she muttered to no one.
After several fruitless minutes of looking, Thorek scowls and itches the burn scar on the left side of his neck and cheek. The humans were too tall, he wasn't going to see Grunyar in this all this. Hopping down from his stool, he makes his way through the crowd, stopping in front of the scarred woman who's been eyeing everyone coming through the door. At least she's been paying attention.
"Hey, have you seen another dwarf in here? Blonde beard, tends to wear dark blues and greys, walks with a slight limp?"
Caladra eyes the dwarf for a moment before uttering a plain, "Nope. She takes a drink from her flagon before continuing. "I know who you're talking about, Grun... something. This isn't one of his usual spots and hardly gets in trouble so I don't really know where those spots are. I just seem him about town every now and then. Why do you ask anyway? I've seen you around before, every few months or so like the festival."
Having been kept on such a short leash her whole life, be it at the temple of Iomedae, military school, or the town guardship here, strangers from outside her home always peaked an interest in her.
Thorek nods, pleased to have at least found a clue. "Grunyar, yes. Good to hear he stays out of trouble." Still scanning the room, though a bit more perfunctorily now, he explains, "I'm, well, sort of a self-appointed watcher for the folks who can't get home to Kraggodan, what with the siege and all. Most of us caught outside made their way to Glimmerhold, but inevitably there's a few too stubborn to go so far from home. So I make my circuit 'round the local towns, just check to make sure everybody's alright, pass on messages, whatever needs doing."
Turning back to the woman, he gives her an appraising look. "I take it you're a guard here?"
Caladra smiled with a slight laugh at that. "So you're kinda like an errand boy," she said. She finished her flagon and placed it back on the bar. "That I am. Almost a year out of the academy over in Tamran. Wasn't the most popular there and I think they sent me here to rot in all honesty. Nothing exciting ever happens." With those words she let out a sigh and sank into her seat more.
Crowd members share their own boasts and jokes, but eventually someone tops off Aubrin’s tankard and pushes her back into the center of the room.
"All right, all right! Don’t shove," she slurs a bit. "Okay, Cayden strike me down if this isn’t true—"
The front door explodes into flinders. A cry of agony pierces the chaos. Aubrin lies on the floor, gasping and clutching at the blood gushing from a wound in her chest. A ballista bolt still quivers in the wall behind her.
Two hobgoblins in military dress stand beyond the shattered door, blades drawn. Behind them, lit by the glow of burning homes, dozens—perhaps hundreds—of hobgoblin soldiers march the street. Phaendar burns, shouts of celebration now replaced by the panicked screams of the frightened and dying. Behind them, above the flames and humble rooftops, rises a tower of black stone.
Erastil's beard...Not again!
"Take cover!" Bree shouts as she draws her rapier.
Lily jumps up at the noise. Randomly shooting at the closest enemy she yells, "What no? Not again. I don't want to go through anything like that again."
"Hobgoblins!? Not on the plan for today, I was just going to help people identify items! What to do, what to do, what to do... Distraction!"
Cyrioul dashes through the tables to get behind some of the Inn's more stalwart occupants. With a quick gesture, Cyrioul barks "Ignere!" A burst of light flashes in front of the closest hobgoblin's eyes.
Cyrioul attempts to dazzle the lead hobgoblin, but, he squints the light out of his eyes. He then charges past Boudra and attacks Thorek . The , but Thorek's armor prevents additional damage. .
The other hobgoblin steps up to Boudra and at her, ineffectively.
Boudra, focused on Aubrin's story, is taken unawares when the door bursts open. As the hobgoblins stream into the room, she gasps. No...nonononononono! One hobgoblin runs past her, and she ducks, with a cry, as the other hobgoblin's sword swings past her head and bites into the wooden table.
Backing up toward the scarred guardswoman, Boudra tries to make herself less visible. Unbidden, her hand comes up and shadows swirl around it...
But the magical energy she's barely even aware of dissipates before reaching any fuller form!
Caladra jumped up at the sound of the front door breaking inward. Her eyes were wide with fear of the unknown threat. Aubrin was down and bleeding as two hobgoblins made there way inside the inn. One tried to strike at another villager while another charged towards her and Thorek. she inhaled sharply and winced, thinking the monster was to attack her but instead heard Thorek grunt at the blow.
She could feel herself begin to panic. This wasn't training, this was real. These hobgoblins meant to kill them and all she could do was stand there.
a voice seems to say. It was warm, yet stern and filled Caladra with confidence. Without giving the nearest hobgoblin a chance to react she drew her greatsword and attacked, eyes ablaze.
"Damn it!" She growls as the blade glides down the hobgoblin's armor.
As the hobgoblin's blade descends towards his head, Thorek instinctively throws up his left arm--the impact sends a shock down to his shoulder and drives several steel links into his flesh, but he skull remains intact. Batting the sword away, he dips his shoulder and the looped chains of his dorn-dergar drop into ready hands.
"How in the Pit did they get into town with no warning?!" the warpriest roars to no one in particular. Gripping the heavy steel head of his weapon in his fist, shuffles closer and throws a heavy roundhouse into the hobgoblin's jaw.
Round 1, Initiative Count 8
It's amazing how quickly circumstances can change. One minute he's settling in to listen to another story, the next there are Hobgoblins in the bar. He can see the town beyond the door in rough shape, and he can see just in front of him Aubrin laying on the ground with a sucking chest wound.
Trusting to the others in the bar to keep the Hobgoblin next to him occupied, he makes for the fallen and calls upon the power of Erastil to heal the massive hole. "Hang in there, Aubrin, I've got you," he tells her as he puts his hands on the wound.
Bree moves into the hole next to the dwarf to try to protect the cleric. "Oh no you don't, ugly!"
Cyrioul does his best to stay out of the melee, but he knows that he's probably in the way. Reaching over, he taps the embattled dwarf on the shoulder to pass a mote of arcane energy into him, crying, "Rhagwelediad!"
Cyrioul then hops backward, trying to stay clear of the Marlee.
Caladra misses Hobgoblin 1
Aubrin
Thorek hits the hobgoblin solidly.
Lily shoots into the crowd and sees the arrow thunk satisfactorily into the hobgoblin.
Boudra attempts to cast unsuccessfully.
Cedric , leans down and heals Aubrin. While his chest wound is still serious, the continuous bleeding has stopped.
Bree's actions confuse the hobgoblin.
Cyrioul enhances Thorek and steps back.
The damaged hobgoblin , successfully him again.
The other hobgoblin steps up and , doing additional
"Coward!" Caladra cries out at the hobgoblin that backed away from her and Thorek. She quickly moves through the crowd of people, risking attack from one of the two goblinoids to reach a prime striking position. Seeing one of the other girls who seems to be helping to fight the hobgoblins across from her, Caladra takes this opportunity to try to hit the hobgoblin again.
As the steel ball cracks into the side of the hobgoblin's head with a satisfying ring, Thorek hears someone behind him shouting gibberish and feels a slap on his shoulder, causing him to whip his head around at the elven man--a mistake. Recovering quickly, the hobgoblin's blade snakes back, tearing a ragged line across the dwarf's thigh before the creature hops back.
Teeth gritted in pain, Thorek unspools a length of the chain wrapped around his left arm as he winds back and throws the heavy steel head of his dorn-dergar.
Seeing that Cedric has stopped Aubrin's bleeding, Boudra turns her full attention to the hobgoblins--mostly, to avoiding their blades. She darts away, pressing herself into the corner as the hobgoblins come together. Without even realizing what she's doing, she raises a hand and lets out a wordless cry. Get out of here! Go!
As she gets a hold of herself, she scrambles the sickle that she uses for cutting herbs in the forest out of her belt.
Round 2, Initiative Count 8
"Grrah," Cedric grunts in pain as one of the Hobgoblins stabs him quite painfully. With Aubrin no longer at risk of bleeding out in the next few seconds, it's time to turn attentions toward stopping the threat before it can do anything more to the others in the room.
He takes a tactical step toward the wall, putting Aubrin between him and the Hobgoblin that attacked him, to give himself space to maneuver. He retrieves his spear and thrusts with it through the space above the fallen ranger. The pain of his wound is rather distracting, however, and the blow skids off the enemy armor rather than finding one of the gaps.
Round 2
"All right I hit him.",Lily says while pumping her fist. Turning to the fallen ranger she breathes a bit easier knowing that at least she will survive the encounter. She draws another arrow and shots the same hobgoblin she shot before. Unfortunately, her arrow travels wide and seemingly defies the laws of physics.
Caladra provokes , taking while missing with his own weapon.
Thorek kills the damaged hobgoblin
Lily shoots and misses.
Boudra casts. is frightened of Boudra.
Cedric misses with his attack.
While not much of a fighter, Bree would prefer not to expose any more wounded to these horrible creatures. "I'm not a child anymore," she murmurs to herself. She moves to attack the remaining hobgoblin with her rapier.
Round 3
Hoping to deny the hobgoblin any accuracy before the others bring it down, Cyrioul yells "Ignere!" as he makes another barrage of lights flash in front of hobgoblins eyes.
Bree stabs the remaining hobgoblin.
Cyrioul and dazzles the hobgoblin.
The hobgoblin at Bree, but misses, then steps back to the door.
Round 3
Breathing deeply and starting to calm down a bit more Lily quietly pulls out another arrow and shoots the remaining hobgoblin.
As the hobgoblin attempts to withdraw Thorek growls [b]"Not without saying goodbye!" And strafes left, whipping the dorn-dergar towards the creature's head.
The heavy steel head cracks solidly into the doorframe beside it, launching several splinters through the air but cleanly missing its target.
Seeing the hobgoblin hard-pressed, Boudra reaches out to touch the woman in front of her who killed his fellow. "Be careful!" she says, out loud for once. Then, seeing that the fighters in the inn have the immediate threat in hand, she makes her way carefully over to Aubrin to investigate the ranger's wounds.
Feeling her anger starting to bubble insider her at the hobgoblin's evading her attacks, she strikes in anger at the fiend. She lets out a loud cry as she lifts her hulking blade above her head and brings it crashing down upon the hobgoblin.
The blade bites deep into the hobgoblin, cutting through steel and flesh like butter.
"Wow! Nice swing! Bree looks around at the damage. "Aubrin, are you okay? Can you stand? We have to move fast to save as many townfolk as possible!"
Caladra nearly cuts the remaining hobgoblin in half.
In the quiet that follows, you can clearly hear the sounds of fighting and screaming outside the Taproot Inn.
Cyrioul identifies the insignia on the shoulders of the hobgoblins' uniforms. They are the emblem of the Ironfang Legion, a mercenary army responsible for the Ramgate Massacre two years ago.
Searching the bodies of the hobgoblins, you find:
- 2 longswords
- 2 studded leather armors
- 2 light steel shields
- 2 longbows
- 40 arrows
- In a masterwork backpack:
- heavy crossbow
- 20 bolts
- 10 masterwork bolts
- 8 clearly labeled potions of guidance
- 1st-level wand of magic missile (11 charges)
- a divine scroll containing the spells calm animals, cure light wounds, and magic stone.
- dried goat meat, sheep's cheese, and a jug of sheep's milk worth a total of 5 Provision Points
Aubrin, who is staggered, makes it to her feet with some help. Even with the magical healing, her broken ribs will take days to heal.
Aubrin says "It... it sounds like there’s an army outside the door. How did they fall on us without being seen? These damn plains are so flat you can see an elk from two days off, let alone an army!" She winces and presses her hands against the bloody hole in her chest.
"They sound large. Too large to fight on the ground like honest fools. We need to gather what we can, cross the bridge, and hide out in the Fangwood. I—I know a few secrets that may keep us safe. Should probably figure out how to take down the bridge while we’re at it, else they’ll just march themselves across before we have the chance to hide."
As others search the bodies, Cedric looks over the group to assess their wounds. Aubrin's still wounded, and both he and the Dwarf took some hits as well. With that many wounds, the best thing is to channel energy.
He feels conflicted about running and hiding when there's still people out there that need help, but this group had a rough go of it with just two of them. Standing up to an army all at once would be surely too much, and they'll be of no help to anyone dead.
"To the forest, then," he reluctantly agrees. "But if we pass by anyone that needs help along the way we should do what we can to bring as many people with us as possible."
As the second hobgoblin falls Thorek moves towards the door, cautiously peering out and attempting to get a rough count of the enemy--numbers, troop types (archers, cavalry, etc), the direction they're coming from...information like that could be the difference between life and death in the next few minutes or hours.
"Aye...aye, miss, that's a lot. A whole damned lot. I suggest we find a back door and window, try to keep out of sight."
Cyrioul casts a cantrip and examines the wand for a moment, then tucks it into his belt. "Curious that they should carry such a thing, but perhaps they picked it up in town somewhere. Gods, I hope that mule is still alive out there - it has most of my things..."
Turning to Cedric, he says, "If you feel that you can carry these items for now, we can load it onto my pack animal if it's still alive. Would be better for us to clear it out of here than to leave it for others of the Ironfang Legion to discover. We don't want to get caught in another Ramgate incident if we can clear out of town."
To everyone, "I'm ready to move when all of you are!"
Boudra, catching her breath, is clearly relieved to see that Aubrin is ok, and she closes her eyes in gratitude as Cedric invokes the blessings of Erastil. She watches the discussion intently, then taps Cedric urgently on the shoulder. When he turns, she centers herself, and then launches into a quick charades-like litany. She's used to needing to communicate with hearing people, though. The broad strokes of her message are understandable:
I can help Aubrin. I have stuff--bandages--at my home. Can we go?
Cedric is caught off guard by the charades at first until he remembers that Boudra is deaf. "I don't object to trying," he answers, slowly and making sure to face her. "I just have no idea whether or not that part of town is overrun or accessible. Certainly as many healing supplies as possible are a good thing to have for the wilderness. I have some that I always keep on hand for emergencies as well." He shows her his own healing kit as they continue to gather up the supplies they plan to take.
Cyrioul appraises the well-crafted backpack for a moment, and looks to the others. "If you'll allow me, the craftsmanship here could really help me carry a bit more than I normally could. Just for now, of course - we can redistribute things later, if you wish. And if any of you are a better shot than I am," he pulls out the heavy crossbow, "I don't mind handing this off to one of you, but can certainly utilize it if not."
He whistles when he sees the quality of some of the bolts in his pack. "I'll keep these safe for now - they could be wonderously helpful in the future when I've learned a few more things, I'm certain of it!"
As he sets to redistributing his posessions (and recoils his nose at the smell of the hobgoblins), he adds, "I agree that a side jaunt to another house seems a likely way to meet more of these Legionnaires. If it's vital, then yes, but if not, we may want to simply keep moving and get out of town as quickly as possible." He finishes adjusting the straps, then cranks and loads the heavy crossbow. "Well, that's just about exactly all I can carry and still keep moving quickly. I'm ready when you all are!"
Lily looks around sheepishly and says," I know we should be leaving soon but I would like to know your names. I don't want to continue calling everyone "hey you". "
After a little bit of awkward silence Lily quickly says,"Sorry. I probably should go first. Im Lily. If I seem a bit nervous or skittish its because this is bringing back bad memories
Caladra panted heavily as she lifted her sword from the pile of meat and bones that was the hobgoblin. She let out a sigh and calmed herself. She quickly returned the blade to it's frog on her back and looked at the others. "Caladra. Now give me some things to carry. We need to get a move on fast before other gobs come and we can't afford any of us to be slowed."
"I'm Bree. Don't worry about it, Lily, this is a stressful time for all of us. I'm guessing my uncle would head for the woods as well... assuming they got out." She looks despondent for a moment, then squares her shoulders and gives Lily a pat on the back. "Let's move."