Carith drew himself up to his full height, resting his right hand on the hilt of his longsword, his left holding forth his silver holy symbol. With a loud voice he proclaims, "Carith Blankenship, priest of Iomedae, the Inheritor, the Final Ascendant. Sent here by Lord Cortland to scour the evil-doers from these lands to make a refuge for good law-abiding folk." With that the priest released the hilt of his sheathed weapon, continuing to hold the symbol as they awaited the guard's reply.
Apparently satisfied with the responses, the same voice barked out an order,
”Lower the bridge!”
The bridge lowered and the portcullis slowly rose, creaking, clearing the way for the travelers to step off the drawbridge and between the towers flanking the entryway of the gatehouse. About ten feet ahead waited the final barrier barring entry: a set of sturdy double doors made of thick wood reinforced with iron bands. A shutter at the back of a barred window in the right-hand door opened to show a woman’s face scrutinizing the group with calm deliberation.
”Welcome to Dawnslight Keep,” she said drearily.
She looked the group up and down, her eyes resting upon the party’s exposed weaponry. ”I’m Sabine, the Gatekeeper. Inside these walls is a peaceable place. We don’t like brawling in the streets, folks stabbed in the tavern, or anything like that. Keep your weapons sheathed within the walls and stay out of trouble, and you’ll find the Keep a home away from home. Stir up trouble, and you’ll wish you’d never come here. I guarantee it.”
The wooden doors groaned and swung wide to accept entry into the main courtyard. Sabine closed the doors behind after everyone was through. The sounds of the portcullis being lowered and drawbridge being retracted echoed against the keeps inner walls along with the ever-present thrum and hiss of rainfall. This courtyard was as wet anywhere else, but with the added benefit of stinking of wet horse and manure. The female gatekeeper emerged from a doorway and carried a ledger toward the group, setting it down upon a small dry table protected from the rainfall by a catwalk above. Her demeanor was all business with a dash of gruff.
”I have written your names as you stated them. Please make your mark next to your printed name and note your profession or skill set.”
---------------
Suddenly left to their own devices, the group followed the courtyard lane until it turned into a sort of market area. A fair number of buildings and stalls were present but were mostly bereft of life or care, some falling into blatant disrepair. With the sun nearly set and its light blocked by the Keep’s walls, it was quite dark in this market square, adding to the sense of forlorn. The only lights were from bobbing lanterns carried by wall sentries up above and handful of windows lit by firelight within. By the faintest light a battered hanging sign was seen displaying a painted green dragon apparently fast asleep, noted with letters proclaiming it the Sleeping Dragon Inn. A dwarf woman appeared at the inn’s threshold, tossing a dishrag over her shoulder.
”Newcomers! Welcome young men...and woman I see! You there lass, unload yer animal and put ‘em in the stables where he’ll stay dry for the night. Everyone, c’min! Get outta the rain. Are ye hungry? Can I get ye a drink to wash the dust o’ tha road from ye throats?”
As he writes, he asks Sabine "Where would be go to learn about bounties and redeem trophies against bounties?"
"The Captain will come visit you folks at the tavern later tonight once you're settled in. He will answer any such concerns. He likes to meet newcomers face to face."
"Ye can call me Lafsa, and me husband is Daelin. He's workin' in the kitchen. Please, come in and have a seat!"
The dwarf woman pointed to a few clean tables near the bar, one of which was currently occupied by a trio of elves eating bowls of stew, bread, and drinking brown ale. They looked up to see the newcomers' entrance but made no gesture of greeting. A black cat crept toward the shadows while a floppy-eared dog slept on a pillow by the bar. A pair of off-duty soldiers took deep pulls from their mugs, still wearing their Hellbane tabards and sword belts. The pair smiled and waved as the travelers came in, doubling the inn's population and likewise doubling the chance at some news or conversation. The black-haired young soldier spoke,
"Greetings heroes of Hellbane. We're glad you made it here in one piece. Pull up a chair and tell us a tale, won't you?"
The Sleeping Dragon was the Keep's tavern and inn, apparently still in the middle of renovations. Many tables and chairs were stacked in a corner to make room for several sawhorses and stacks of lumber. The floor was freshly mopped and the room was scented pleasantly by several incense burners at the bar. A roaring hearth fire burned on one side of the tavern floor, while a second hearth opposite the first lay cold due to lack of customers.
The establishment was run by a hill dwarf couple called Daelin and Lafsa Mossbeard. Lafsa managed to stay proper and pretty, staying clean shaven (a taboo amongst their cousin mountain dwarves), washed, and even using a bit of makeup to accentuate her naturally beautiful eyes. Daelin emerged a short while after the party seated themselves, bringing some stale but reheated bread with a crock of butter to the table. His gray-streaked blonde beard and long braided ponytail were somewhat unkempt, making him look a bit scraggly when standing next to his attractive wife. In spite of his appearance, his eyes had the look of sincerity and kindness that was difficult to fake.
Pinto looked over where his name was written and jotted down, "Outdoor activities." for a skill set. He did not want to be assigned some job that would keep him inside the keep.
-------------
Now with a load off his feet, the older man relaxed and even took off his boots and put them near the fire to dry along with his cloak. He wiggled his toes and got ready for whatever passed for food and drink in this place. he was really hoping to like it because it looked like it was one of the few places in the keep that offered food.
He waited around for the captain to show up and struck conversation with the soldiers around him, "'tis true. A dragon, a white dragon flew overhead and decided to skip us. Thank Old Dead Eye."
He then asked, "What's with the elves over there? Somebody rain on their parade or something?"
Checking his name was spelled correctly Brandt signed beside it, and noted his occupation as 'Teacher'
Remembering the Eina wasn't familiar with this set of runes he waited and lead her through the process, showing how her named was spelled and where to make her mark. Something he was familiar with doing for the young back in his hometown.
In the Sleeping dragon he politely greeted the couple running it, bending over and holding out his hand to make the acquaintance of the cat. "Hello little hunter. How is the mousing for you?"
Straightening up with a smile he asked Lafsa. "Is there any chance of hot water for a bath?" While looking around hopefully for a board with the inns meals listed.
Eina looks at the list, and frowns.
"Pardon me," she calls out to the gatekeeper before she can get too far, "must we use the runes for this tongue?"
===
After the embarrassment she had suffered at the gate, Eina wasn't so quick to speak up, letting her companions speak while she asked about getting a trencher of stew and some mead or other drink.
When asked to make his mark, Carith signs his name in a bold hand, assigning himself the title of 'priest'. While perhaps not in the traditional sense that most people thought of, that of the pastor speaking to a congregation, Carith was the Cleric of a martial Goddess. He still could channel Her energy as She deemed fit, so he did not hesitate to call himself such.
------------------------------------
Carith eyed the Inn as he walked in, pleased at the rebuilding effort and the smell of sawdust mixed in with the incense. The smell of progress. Glad for the roaring flames in the hearth, the priest follows Erodin's lead and takes off his soggy cloak, spreading it as wide as possible to aid the drying effort.
The Cleric approached the soldiers with some of the others, grasping their forearms in greeting as he had been taught. "Carith, good sirs. What my companion says is true, the white wyrm was mighty and awesome with its fell power, and perhaps luck paid a small role in our good fortune..." At this the priest removed his new holy symbol, showing it to the two young men. "I believe, however, it was the Inheritor's will that the dragon moved on. She is a demanding Goddess, but She always tries to give you what you can handle."
The priest smiled amiably at the duo, pleased to get a chance to praise his Goddess. As the talk turns to the elves sharing the room with them and the prospects of food and a hot bath, Carith sinks into a nearby chair, relaxing and soaking up the banter around him. It had been a long day.
At the mention of the dragon the friendly black-haired soldier’s jaw dropped, suddenly at a loss for words. He turned to his red-haired bearded soldier companion who was smiling widely. The latter spoke up,
”I told you! I told you we saw an ice dragon flying past the keep but you didn’t believe me! I’ll take my winnings now, yes?” Chagrined but still half-smiling, the soldier reached to his purse and made good on whatever bet they had about the existence of said dragon.
He then asked, "What's with the elves over there? Somebody rain on their parade or something?"
When the talk of the elves comes up, Taecuss says in a hushed (but not really quiet) "You know they can hear you, right?" To emphasize his point, he touches the tip of one of his elongated ears.
The elves looked annoyed and bored with the notion of some human feeling the need to mention them. They spoke in low tones in their native elven tongue though their tone made it clear that the words were not friendly in nature. One of the trio dropped the elvish in favor of the common tongue, speaking to Pinto directly,
”We three are none of your concern, though you should know that we will collect more bounties and claim more lands than you can possibly hope to achieve. And if you see us out there in the wilds, do stay out of our way.”The course language put an immediate damper on the room’s mood. Several soldiers looked from table to table, waiting to see who might break the silence, knowing it was not their place to intervene between these volunteer heroes who by rights outranked them, if not in an official capacity.
Sabine the gatekeeper stated simply,
"Make your mark, whatever it may be. If you cannot read my words please ask a friend for aid."
Luckily Brandt had predicted such a scenario and was immediately at Eina's side, ready to aid in translation.
In the Sleeping dragon he politely greeted the couple running it, bending over and holding out his hand to make the acquaintance of the cat. "Hello little hunter. How is the mousing for you?"
Straightening up with a smile he asked Lafsa. "Is there any chance of hot water for a bath?" While looking around hopefully for a board with the inns meals listed.
The kitty cat turned and played coy for a moment, then hurried to Brandt's feet where it rubbed its furry side against his leg, demanding attention in the way only felines can manage.
A chalkboard behind the bar was dusty and blank, likely where the daily meals were written for customers to peruse, however it seemed that only stew and bread were on the menu this evening. Lafsa apologized to Brandt for the lack of options but promised better meals in the future, when the supply lines become more regular and established. As to a bath she agreed and asked him to let know when and it would be done.
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To the proprietors, he says "We haven't much in the way of stories yet. Unless you consider beastmen, grumpkins, ogres, giants and dragons story worthy!"
Daelin and Lafsa both smiled widely. Soldiers clapped their mugs against wood tabletops in eager anticipation of more details. In timely fashion, a middle-aged human man with a tight-cropped beard of gray and a crown of equally short gray hair came into the tavern, just in time to hear Taecuss' statement of monstrous encounters. He walked over to the elf, then looked at the new adventurer arrivals in full as if sizing them up.
"Captain Smuckers. You must be the new blood. You are welcome here and I greet you on behalf of the Lady Baroness."
His tone was fair and even-keeled though you sense a bit of reluctance there, as if he is simply doing his duty in saying these words.
Asking him about bounties, the Captain is pleased to see that you already have three heads in tow, showing strong initiative as a first impression.
"Bounties are subject to change depending on scouting reports and needs as they come, so be aware. Right now we have problems with grumpkins and beastmen primarily, and so their bounties are set high. There is a standing bounty on greenskins , kobolds, lizardmen, gnolls, and of course filthy ogres. Dangerous beasts will net you a payment as well, though they will be handled on a case by case basis. All payouts will be handled by Monty Goldhall, moneychanger."
"For the time being you are allowed free room and board, paid for by Keep funds. This will change in the relatively near future. It is the Baroness' hope that not only will we purge these lands of dangerous forces, but that the Keep will again be a center for wildland trade and travel, and so these rooms will need to be ready to accept paying customers."
"Do you have any further questions?"
---------------
Currently posted bounties:
As the night grew darker and the day’s labors came to an end for some, more customers trickled in steadily until they had to grab tables from the corner to accommodate them. Daelin started a fire in the second hearth, motioning to a nearby soldier to feed logs onto it every so often.
Along with more off-duty soldiers another character made an appearance; a half-elven man (noted by his pointed ears and mustache) wearing gaudy-but-slightly-tattered robes of gold-trimmed emerald green, entered and went straight for the bar, asking for wine. His robes looked like they were once quite expensive but did not receive the upkeep worthy of such a fine garment. Around his neck is a pendant with a symbol showing three lines intersecting at a nexus, each line ending in squiggles near the pendant's edge. The black-haired soldier volunteered that his man is named Monty Goldhall and is a washed-up priest of Battleborn who is the Keep’s healer, armor smith, and paymaster/moneychanger. He goes on to say that the priest claims to have lost his faith after the war, but is somehow still able to use magic granted by his god.
After a number of lengthy conversations it is learned that the Keep possesses facilities that not in proper working order, many of which are unmanned at the moment, but that they are expecting to fill these positions in the weeks to come.
In addition to the operational infrastructural needs of the keep such as crew quarters, housing for civilians who once lived here (and might again), a granary, and a water cistern – there are stables, a smithy, a quartermaster, the inn/tavern, a guild house, a chapel, a tannery, a warehouse, and even a vault with individual safe deposit boxes. Of those only a few were operational, but even they operated on a skeleton crew.
Operational facilities:
---------------
He then asked, "What's with the elves over there? Somebody rain on their parade or something?"When the talk of the elves comes up, Taecuss says in a hushed (but not really quiet) "You know they can hear you, right?" To emphasize his point, he touches the tip of one of his elongated ears.The elves looked annoyed and bored with the notion of some human feeling the need to mention them. They spoke in low tones in their native elven tongue though their tone made it clear that the words were not friendly in nature. One of the trio dropped the elvish in favor of the common tongue, speaking to Pinto directly,
”We three are none of your concern, though you should know that we will collect more bounties and claim more lands than you can possibly hope to achieve. And if you see us out there in the wilds, do stay out of our way.”The course language put an immediate damper on the room’s mood. Several soldiers looked from table to table, waiting to see who might break the silence, knowing it was not their place to intervene between these volunteer heroes who by rights outranked them, if not in an official capacity.
Pinto whistled low, "Tone it down son; there's no bounty on my head."
He then added, "And for the record, we're on the same team. I wouldn't discard our aid out there so quickly. Maybe we can help each other."
His own tone turned from defiant to conciliatory, "Listen, I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers. I'm sure you are all very capable but you know well that it can get rough out there, especially with no friends."
He then got up from his table and went over, extending his hand, "I'm Pinto and I meant no disrespect. We good?"
Carith listens to Captain Smuckers attentively, sitting up straight and maintaining eye contact. Though his face remains impassive, he is rather impressed by the sums offered for the heads and ears of these beasts. The Baroness was very serious about this effort to clean up this wild land. The priest was surprised to see as few of the rough and tumble sorts that this sort of bounty usually attracted as he did.
At Smuckers' call for questions, the cleric thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. Most of the questions were addressed in the initial introduction, and Taecuss' sharp mind seemed to be covering everything else. "None, sir. A pleasure to meet you, and good job on your hard work so far."
-------------------------------------
Carith is just fine with the meal of stew and bread. Having grown up in a large household with meager means, they were lucky some days to be able to fill their bellies with just bread. He breaks off chunks of the loaf, using it to mop up the steaming stew in his bowl. He regards Pinto and the elven group's discussion with mild interest, but doesn't pay it much mind. The older man seemed to be trying to make amends with the others, and the cleric assumed they were reasonable.
As Erodin weaves his way into the games of the accumulating soldiers coming in, Carith moves to a farther chair from the mass. He will not deny the soldiers their fun and entertainment, but such things were frowned upon by his Goddess. So instead he finds himself sitting next to Brandt and Eina. He sips at his drink for a moment, then turns his attention to the two. "What do you think of it all?" He gestures to not only the room around them, but also to the unseen Keep outside its walls. "There is always fervor and effort in the beginning of every effort, but such things take resilience and fortitude. Do you see that here?"
Looking about, the cleric was pretty sure he did. He was more curious about the thoughts of the others, about how they processed things.
Pinto whistled low, "Tone it down son; there's no bounty on my head."
He then added, "And for the record, we're on the same team. I wouldn't discard our aid out there so quickly. Maybe we can help each other."
His own tone turned from defiant to conciliatory, "Listen, I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers. I'm sure you are all very capable but you know well that it can get rough out there, especially with no friends."
He then got up from his table and went over, extending his hand, "I'm Pinto and I meant no disrespect. We good?"
The arrogance of the elf oozed from the look on his face, mirrored by his companions at the table. The three remained silent for several uncomfortable moments. The speaker stood, followed shortly after by his friends, each of their chairs loudly scraping against the floor from the sudden motion.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not."Leaving Pinto's open hand hanging, they walked away from the scene and toward a staircase at the back of the tavern and ascended out of sight, leaving a new table empty save for the three unfinished mugs of ale they had left behind. Behind the bar Daelin sighed heavily but bit his tongue, opting to stay silently diplomatic instead of stirring the pot.
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"Captain Smuckers, we are proud to be part of the effort to tame this wilderness. But it is a vast wilderness. Have your patrols noticed any particular trouble spots we should start with or focus on? Are there any other outposts of civilization in these parts, aside from the keep and Sowell's Orchard, that we should seek to defend?"
The captain nodded sagely, appreciative of the poignant query.
"As to outposts of civilization, there is a coastal village called Quill's Cove a number of miles east of here, south of the volcanic mountain. We've had a visitor from there a week after our conquest of Dawnslight Keep, informing that a few stout folk have remained there all of these decades. The visitor informed us that the road between here and there is treacherous indeed, as it passes tribes of gnolls, ogres, and worse. Making this road safe will become a priority but isn't yet at the top of my list."
"Indeed. First, we recently had a supply wagon attacked on the road several miles west of here. A gang of grumpkins attempted to take the delivery by force but failed. When the driver made his escape, he lost some cargo off the back of the wagon - particularly valuable cargo as luck would have it. There was a chest containing coinage, high end goods, and even some enchanted items. The driver believes it was lost near the bridge that cuts south across the Brinewater , near some sort of mudslide that covered a portion of the road. If you can recover the chest I will personally guarantee a hundred gold coin reward, plus a token of my choosing at that time."
"Beastmen have been a particular thorn in my side of late. Beastmen with heads of pigs, deer, cats, snakes - we've seen quite a variety - they seem to haunt the woods west of here, often trying to capture our supply wagons as the grumpkins do. In fact the group of adventurers who arrived before you are out there right now hunting beastmen in hopes of reaping those high bounties. I'm afraid I have little more than that to offer as a guide since we've been mostly stuck here in the keep. I have to assume there are hideouts and camps in the woods, but I have no specific intelligence to confirm that at this time."
"The mountains north-northwest of here are home to mines that used to produce quality ores, including mithral. We know nothing about what you might find guarding or living in those mines, but I am fairly certain that something has claimed them in the last century. The Baroness places a great deal of priority on reopening these mines, and as such those who make them safe again will be looked upon favorably."
"I recommend you steer clear of the castle ruins a few miles northeast of here. We've only one scout successfully return from it and apparently the ruins are lousy with the risen dead. I would not want to face those foes unless I was supremely confident in my abilities as a group."
When the guard points him out, Taecuss stands and waves. [b]"Master Goldhall, a moment of your time, sir?"
"Sir, we are new to the region and committed to the cause. We have some trophies we have already gathered and would seek to redeem with you. I understand your responsibilities take you all over the Keep; is there a time or day when it is best to meet you at the vault? Some of our prizes have been taken from their hosts several days ago, and they aren't getting any less fragrant."
Goldhall nodded appreciatively and smiled at the lighthearted description of rotting flesh. He downed his wine, filled his cup and downed it as well, then filled it yet again.
"Come. I'll show you the vault right away. You can rent a box if you'd like to keep any valuables safe. We offer money changing at the cost of 10%. And finally all paymaster transactions will occur there as well, so when you return laden with ears, noses, fingers and toeses - I will be the one to seek out."
The priest escorted them through the cobbled street, conjuring a white, heatless torchlight with a flick of his wrist, illuminating the darkness. A short walk past a general provisions storefront and a small chapel led to utilitarian square building. A key was thrust into the lock of a heavy wood door, followed by a whispered incantation , after which he ushered the payees through the newly-opened portal.
A simple room with benches and a stone table lay within. A single door opposite the first, sturdy and wood like the other, provided a way deeper within this vault building. Monty opened this door much as he did the first, entered, and came back through moments later with a clinking sack in his hands. He examined the heads with a cloth over his nose, rotting and maggot covered as they were, then counted out 150 gold coins in exchange.
"Shall we head back to the Dragon? I've not drank nearly enough."
The arrogance of the elf oozed from the look on his face, mirrored by his companions at the table. The three remained silent for several uncomfortable moments. The speaker stood, followed shortly after by his friends, each of their chairs loudly scraping against the floor from the sudden motion.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not."Leaving Pinto's open hand hanging, they walked away from the scene and toward a staircase at the back of the tavern and ascended out of sight, leaving a new table empty save for the three unfinished mugs of ale they had left behind. Behind the bar Daelin sighed heavily but bit his tongue, opting to stay silently diplomatic instead of stirring the pot.
Pinto did not make a big deal out of it. Perhaps these wise elves were not so wise after all. You never ever turned down friends out in the wilds.
Happy with the friends that bled beside him, the brawler rejoined them and took comfort knowing that they would watch his back.
He shrugged, "Did I do anything wrong or were they just too sensitive?"
Brandt is busy giving the cat the attention it wants and just watching the room quietly. Setting everything into place in his mind.
He raises an eyebrow at the Elves reaction to Pinto but still doesn't speak.
"Stew and bread will be more than enough thank you." He smiles at Lafsa, ordering a bowl for himself.
He nearly chokes at the amount of the bounties. 'The Baroness is very serious about clearing these lands it seems.'
When Pinto and the Elves finish their conversation he smiles again at Pinto's word. "They seem more unsure than arrogant to me. Putting on a haughty show hoping to impress others."
He looks around but sees Taecuss is still away getting he bounties. "Taecuss has been nothing but a good friend since we met him. These ones looked more like younglings trying not to show how scared they are in front of more seasoned warriors."
The young lorekeeper is content to watch for the time being, though she notes the elves' snobbishness with some annoyance. She hoped that they did meet, if only so they could show the pompous bastards up.
As the night continues she nurses her mead and listens, taking in the songs and stories, hoping to learn them well enough to add them to the ones she knows.
Carith's interest is piqued at the mention of the ruins nearby, but the Captain's warning tone tempers the priest's fervor to cleanse the undead filth from the land. While the Cleric would gladly give his life to so worthy a cause, he was not callous enough to ask of his companions to join him. Not until they had worked together a while...fought together a while. Once they had honed and fine-tuned their tactics the priest would bring up the subject.
Having finished his simple yet delicious meal, the priest excused himself and went out into the Keep in search of the chapel. A small smile formed on his lips at the signs of industry around him. A sign that the Light was not yet gone from these lands. He whispered a prayer to the Inheritor as he slowly made his way, again thanking Her for this opportunity to spread her tenets to this new land.
He shrugged, "Did I do anything wrong or were they just too sensitive?"
Daelin laughed a hearty dwarfish laugh, looking to Pinto while he wiped picked up the elves' dirty mugs,
"Aye, too sensitive, too haughty, too rich, and too coddled iffin ye want my opinion! They be from a hoity-toity family name, some ancient house of Torian elves wit' more money than they know what tado wit'. They're good, don't ye doubt - they brought back a dozen greenskin ears and a dozen grumpkin ears in one outing""Don'a ye give it another thought. They ain't worth yer botherin' over."
”Some more drinks are certainly in order. Would you join us?”
The half-elven priest returned immediately,
"Oh yes indeed, by the gods I will. Let me tell you about my favorite wine..."
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---------------
A number of decidedly pleasant hours evaporated away just as surely as the rain did from the traveler’s soaked boots and cloaks positioned near the burning hearth. The paymaster priest was jovial and interesting to speak with though he clearly had a bit of a drinking addiction. He spun stories of the war where he acted as healer and war-mage in the latter skirmishes that heralded the end of the conflict between the hosts of hell and the races of good.
Most of the soldiers seemed good chaps, whereas the hill dwarf innkeepers, Daelin and Fafsa, were as welcoming as any had ever been to the group. Giving ample time for the drying of boots and garments, many drinks were shared, bowls of stew devoured, and stories shared. Some of those stories spoke of local points of interest and old folklore, though through the haze of laughter and drinking it was unclear how much of it was to be believed.
A few notable tales and rumors:
Pinto had followed the devil-blooded to the smithy, "Yeah, I could use a cold iron dagger or punching dagger."
He turned to Erodin, "Silver weapons? Do you know something I don't?"
tag?
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WHERE TO NEXT
The older man asked the companions gathered around, "So we heard a few rumors but I think perhaps we should ask the captain where our skills should be used first. Perhaps there's a problem that needs to be tackled first?"
tag?
Carith accompanies Taecuss, Erodin, and Pinto to the smithy, having a special request of his own. "Sir, do you have a longsword forged at low temperatures? Or can you make one? The enemies about are susceptible to such things, so it seems prudent to have one."
When everyone gathers, the priest nods in agreement to the older man's suggestion of asking the Captain his opinion. The companions were newcomers, whereas the residents and guardians of the Keep knew the priorities of the enemies about.
As everyone continues to banter, something nags at the priest's brain. A whisper, something trying to catch his attention. He thinks back to the previous days, sure he has overlooked something. Finally, his eyes light up with excitement, and he leans forward towards the others eagerly. "We should return to where we fought the grumpkins...they were digging about in the muck like they were looking for something, and that matches the general description the Captain gave us."
Of course, he wasn't all about rewards, so if the others choose to do something else, Carith readily agrees, eager to start doing his part to ensure the residents of this land were safe and prosperous.
Daelin called after the adventurers as they got up from their table,
"The smithy, at this hour? 'Ave a seat lads, the smith is right 'ere!" The dwarf gestured to the drunken paymaster priest, who apparently is on triple-duty as the Keep's smith.
"Yes, what did you guys need?" Monty Goldhall was red-eyed and drunkenly beyond any ability to take any orders that he would remember tomorrow, much less begin to craft anything. Drunk as he was, like many who suckle at the teat of the bottle, he was able to function to a fair degree in spite of how much he had imbibed. He walked with the friends to the smithy just a short ways down the road around a corner.
He opened the smithy's doors (which were notably unlocked) and lit a pair of lanterns to shed light over the stock of weapons and armors ready for purchase or use.
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Gremlin stealth: 30 (take a 10, out of combat)
Grumpkin stealth: 23 (take a 10, out of combat)
Gremlin - no damage
Grumpkins - no damage
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Perception checks:
Emerging into the darkness of the inner-Keep's market area, the party headed back toward the Sleeping Dragon by lantern light, leaving Monty at the smithy where he decided he would sleep for the night on a pile of straw.
A short walk from the smithy brought a flurry of action that took everyone by surprise - multiple javelins flew out from the shadows toward the clustered group of friends, with spidery arcane mumbles on the air behind them!
Initiative:
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Random target = 1-Brandt, 2-Carith, 3-Eina, 4-Erodin, 5-Pinto, 6-Taecuss
Three out of six javelins found their marks, digging into flesh and drawing blood, while the errant three clattered against he cobblestone road nearby. Words of magic tingled the ears, invoking eerie thoughts of disloyalty and treachery!
Grumpkins. Six of them, this time allied with a tiny green bipedal creature with large flopped ears and a vicious devil-like visage, grinning evilly in the darkness, all of whom were previously well-hidden in the plentiful shadows of the market area.
This nasty tiny-sized creature hiding behind the crate is an Erinat Gremlin, known for their obsession with conflict and discord. They love nothing more than starting fights—the more inane and pointless the struggle, the better. Like most fey they will have skin resistant to normal steel weapons, vulnerable to cold iron.
This nasty tiny-sized creature hiding behind the crate is an Erinat Gremlin, known for their obsession with conflict and discord. They love nothing more than starting fights—the more inane and pointless the struggle, the better. Like most fey they will have skin resistant to normal steel weapons, vulnerable to cold iron.
Erinat Gremlins can alter self at will, typically to blend into humanoid societies to gain better positions from which they sow their discord. They have DR 5/cold iron, and a number of spell-like abilities to turn the tide against their foes. Standing too close to one befuddles the mind and makes one more susceptible to compulsion effects.
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Random target = 1-Brandt, 2-Carith, 3-Erodin, 4-Pinto, 5-Taecuss
A hideous and joyful chorus erupted from the squat enemies as the tiefling was compelled to obey their gremlin friend's murderous command. Brimming with confidence and malicious momentum, they emerged from their hiding spots to confront the party head on. A few brandished rusty serrated blades and strode forward to fight while the others snorted to gather fluid for their revolting mucus missiles. Three nauseating projectiles flew through the air followed by charging grumpkins looking for a quick kill.
More dangerous incantations uttered forth from the tiny creature hiding in the shadows. The words tickled the minds of all who heard them, but focused their energies again upon the tiefling who was so readily manipulated moments ago.
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Pinto was shocked as the devil-blooded turned on the girl. Something inside of him told him that he was just following his nature, that it would eventually come to happen.
Luckily, Erodin's quick apology told him than something was wrong here.
The old man hacked and could do naught but bend over and spill his dinner while he moved closer to the gremlin.
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, pass
, fail
HP 15/15
AC 16, touch 12, flat-footed 14
Conditions: nauseated until Round 3
Melee (morningstar): +4 = +1(base) +3(STR)
Melee Damage (morningstar): 1d8+4 = +4 (str), x3
4/4 Martial Flexibility
Carith's eyes widen in surprise as the javelins come flying through the air to strike his companions, his hand reaching for the pommel of his newly-acquired cold iron weapon as he spied the grumpkins. As Erodin bit into the neck of their female companions, the priest screamed out "Traitor!" before noting the look of remorse on the devil-blooded's face followed swiftly by his apology. The cleric held up his hand quickly in a reconciliatory gesture before reacting to the scene at hand.
Choosing to believe the best in the man, after all, they had broken bread together and fought together, the priest instead chooses to draw his weapon and draw forth Iomedae's divine energy, calling out, "Goddess! Please grant your servant a sliver of your power to heal my allies, Your champions, so they can deliver swift justice to these foul creatures!"
As Carith channeled his deity's energy, he took a step defensively towards Eina as the wound of Erodin's bite closes shut partially, her consciousness returning.
Eina awakens to find herself in pain, lying on the hard stone ground.
Eina hisses in pain as one of the javelins opens up a gash on her arm. The attack had taken her by surprise, but not nearly as much as Erodin turning on her and clamping down on her neck. She drops like a puppet with its strings cut and bleeds out onto the ground.
Carith's timely aid saves her. Her eyes open, no longer blue, but dark and ominous like the bottom of a thunderhead. She rises to her feet and glares at the green-skinned, devil-faced goblin.
"Kill them. Fear nothing and kill them," she growls as the sounds of distant thunder roll over everyone within fifty feet, feeling her allies with strength and courage, and her foes with dread. Sparks of lightning dance along the limbs and weapons of everyone facing the menaces.
The tiefling's cold iron shortsword cut through the fey goblinoid's skin like butter, opening its innards all over the stone ground in a gush of black blood. The elf's rapier thrust was perfectly aimed but somehow only managed a deep scratch, barely drawing blood.
The three grumpkins nearest Pinto and Brandt appeared to gathering themselves, bereft of the strength to lift their swords. Apparently the act of gathering and launching their disgusting mucus attack left them vulnerable. While they recovered their two remaining brothers stabbed and slashed at Taecuss, trying their best to take him out of the fight.
The nasty gremlin's coarse little voice hissed out another series of magic-laced words, followed by him ducking out of sight behind a crate.
"Waa'uhm beek lohk!"
The gremlin has used a spell-like ability to cast rage.
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