Pridon's Hearth
Rova 15, 4719
Cloudbreak Celebration
Two years to the day after the death of Daruthek
The city of Pridon's Hearth is bustling with color and activity. Despite the wintry breeze, everyone is dressed in vivid oranges, yellows, whites, and pale blues; colors representing the clear skies and the bright sun. Loads of fireworks are bought and sold for the night's festivities, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting down the lanes. In the town square, a line has already formed in front of Harrell the Barrel who is strapped to a statue of a screaming half-orc raising a greatsword to the sky.
Pridon's Hearth truly is a city now; its 5001st resident, a baby halfling named Ngoongoo, was born not two days before. Stonewall's smithy has stopped pouring out smoke for the day, and the Temple of Iomedae and Ood's monastery are finally calm, and their number of parishioners and students having lessened today due to the holiday. In the Scaled Quarter, a new section of town where the lizardfolk residents live, Representative Achahut has finished coaching her brethren to go easy on the visitors. They can each be found at their respective buildings.
Bragoleb, freshly shaven from his time with the beardless halflings, enjoys the celebration and the peace and harmony that has come with the vanquishing of the evil in the delta. He decides to stroll through the town and encourage his fellow followers of Iomedae to continue faithfully and peacefully as he makes his way without haste to the Bloated Unicorn. When he runs into any halflings, he offers greeting from Cashill and Mud.
Bragoleb is hoping to run in the Adaela the sheriff of Pridon's Hearth. She is a former paladin and a good friend. He attempted to convince her to reconsider her rejection of the paladin life, but realizes that her new life suits her well and she is thriving in that new life. He also attempted to court her just after the end of the storms, but was kindly rebuffed. They still remain good friends and enjoy each other's company when they meet. He knows this is for the best, as he is beginning to feel the desire for a new adventure.
Upon arriving at the BU, he takes a seat without worrying whether or not his back is to the door, such are the times in Pridon's Hearth. All seems well and good. He orders his usual beverage and raises his mug to Odie.
The day before the festival, a short, stout, tan figure disembarks from the most recent ship to arrive at Pridon's Hearth. It is hard for the those who notice him to identify his race. At 3'9", he could be a halfling but he is so muscular and stocky that the idea is laughable. He isn't a human child, for the same reasons, but also, his face speaks appears more mature and that is when onlookers realize that he must be a dwarf. This revelation is made shocking because he has no visible hair. His head and face have been shaved and reveal a strong blocky jawline and hard facial features that no one immediately puts together with dwarf. He is clothed long brown cloak over simple tan robes but with a blue hand in a blue circle pictured over his heart on the robes. He wears a backpack on his back that has 2 large sidepouches, and a Sansetsukon of exquisite make on his belt. On his head, he has a simple but well made headband with a simple leather circlet and in the middle of the circlet is another small blue circle containing a blue hand on top of the headband.
As he walks through town, he meanders, enjoying looking in the shops and stalls in the streets, selling things for the upcoming celebration but makes no purchases except some of the local tea. He ends up looking to have an audience with Count Narsus to see if he can secure some compensation for furthering the knowledge of the surrounding area as he has some skill in map-making and surveying.
As he walks around town, he notices the small but impressive monastery of Ood. He goes in to pay his respects, and is delighted by the small but growing library present. He engages Ood in a conversation if he is present, telling him about his travels and listening to Ood intentively.
He gathers a small crowd with his recounting of his travels and his search for knowledge.
As the day closes, Thurl ends up at the Bloated Unicorn, seeking a room for the night and a simple cup of tea to finish the evening off.
Bragoleb eventually notices the surprisingly hairless dwarf drinking tea. He approaches and welcomes the newcomer. He asks if the he has met his friends the dwarves, Ood or Stony. He notices the blue symbol of the hand and circle and recalls ...
absolutely nothing. "Friend, is that a religious symbol?" pointing to the hand. "I should know what that is, but apparently, I've had one too many drafts tonight for our celebration. But, not too many to tell you of my own faithfulness to Iomedae." Without waiting too long for a reply, he asks about the lack of hair, where he is from, and what brings him to Pridon's Hearth.
Dressed like a woodsman, Arbaro is an Oread that looks mostly like a normal Mongolian human but for his grey skin. He mostly hides his skin under furs and a reversible cloak with a hood. One side is a patchwork of cloth from those he was unable to help, the other is a boring color to blend in. Arbaro is attempting to not draw attention to himself so the boring side is currently out.
He is 5 foot and weighs around 230 lbs.
He carries a backpack with a bedroll tied beneath and belt pouch around his waist. His quiver looks well used but serviceable, but a bow is nowhere to be seen.
Arbaro has arrived in Paradon's Hearth looking like a man who should be in the woods and has stumbled into town by sheer accident. But his actions were fully intentional. He sniffs out the Bloated Unicorn without any trouble. On his way, he passes the statue of Odie and upon seeing it, he knew that this town already had at least one protector looking over it. He casts Ears of the City to find out more about the current state of Paradon's Hearth.
At the Unicorn, he orders a bottle of bourbon and makes his way to an outdoor table. There he'll gather rumors and gossip, getting the lay of the land directly. Sharing his bottle freely and when asked why he is there he'll say something along the lines of "The forest provides, but it does not provide bourbon."
There is a physical building (cramped, small) where you can stay the night, but it is obviously not the appeal of this place. There is also the newly-built Temple/Classroom/Forge (built on either the old Temple of Erastil or the lumbermill) if your PC wants a different place to stay the night. I think those had rooms, right?
While Thurl is speaking with Ood at the monastery, he requests some space to spend the night. After securing lodging, Thurl goes to the Bloated Unicorn to get a refreshment before turning in.
Thurl is delighted to speak with Bragoleb. He looks up from his tea and says, "Ah, welcome, come sit with me! I am a follower or Irori and this is his symbol. I and my fellows are of the belief that through knowledge internal and external, self-examination, and self-improvement will our divine natures be nurtured and reach perfection. I myself am on a journey of self-improvement. I left Absalom many years ago and have journeyed through many countries between here and there gathering knowledge and expanding myself. When I heard of Pridon's Hearth and the area around it, I could not resist coming and seeing what new knowledge could be gleaned. I have spoken to Count Narsus about some surveying."
Thurl listens intently to Bragoleb even though he is inebriated and parses what he can from his introduction.
"Iomedae, a worth deity. Honor, Valor and Justice! 'I will suffer death before dishonor', strong words for a strong people. I learned much from my study of "Acts of Iomedae" about heroism in the face of foul deeds.
Adalea is present at the Bloated Unicorn, and she has become happier and less weary over the past two years. The problems plaguing the town have been alleviated, and with the help of the new deputies crime has remained at a reasonable level, despite the increasing population. She still has a hard time relaxing, but as she sits down with Alset "Bragoleb" Kirk she soon finds herself laughing and quite merry.
"Remember the troll that wanted to eat all the bread? And when the count's own treasurer tried to betray him? Our Councillors now are much more trustworthy, particular Foreign Envoy Mud."
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Count Narsus is surprised at Thurl's request for further cartographic endeavors in the area. Most of the delta has been mapped, and the route between Cahshil and Pridon's Hearth is so well-known now that the count has a hard time remembering he even asked for mapping assistance to begin with. He does, however grant Thurl the rights to map anything upriver from the delta. "As the Korir River eventually flows through Pridon's Hearth in its entirety, it would stand to reason that the entire river is technically in our jurisdiction; some it just hasn't run through our town yet. Therefore I grant you permission to map and test the waters of the Korir River to its source, wherever it lies. It's all ours anyway!"
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Arbaro closes his eyes and sees flashes of the town growing, prospering, and full of life and energy. While there are occasional squabbles and minor disputes, the town has seen commerce and happiness grow since its founding. The mines north have produced countless ores, the fishing industry of local snapcraws is seen as an exotic delicacy in ports north, and prospective students have sought the new academies devoted to monasticism and Iomedae. The town is seen as an ideal getaway, almost a tropical paradies. Even unusual races can relax here, as the minority community of lizardfolk is seen as a fun district to visit in the city, and other, equally odd races feel just as welcome as the lizardfolk. The only negative rumors circulating have to do with the city growing too big too fast and losing its character, or of that, since things have gone so well for years now, their luck is due for a bad turn.
Bragoleb sees his friend Lem enter the Bloated Unicorn and waves him over to his table. They met during Bragoleb's time in Cashill over the past couple of years.
Arbaro chats with the tattooed elves asking about this and that. He lets them know he is new to town. Eventually, the conversation leads to him asking
"Who is the bloke with the sword and the barrel? He seems very angry."
After some talk of Odie's adventures and rage, they point out Achahut to Arbaro saying that she'd have more stories, as she was there when he died and now carries his sword.
"You mean she killed him? Why is she allowed in town then?"
"No, no, she was just there when it happened. I think Odie was killed a giant ankylosaurus smacking him in the head or was something? The stories differ. Some say it was a t-rex that ate him whole and he killed it from the inside but died of his wounds once his rage was over. Anywho, you should speak to her. She's retired from adventuring but enjoys spreading The Tales of Odie Ross."
Arbaro thanks them and pours them each another drink from his bottle before moving over to the table where Achahut sits.
Lem Helbling strolls into Pridon's Hearth. Lem is a halfling, but seems to have a touch of something else as well. He stands not quite a head taller than the rest of his kin from Cashill and with wild red hair. Lem is also quite stocky for a halfling with some extra muscle.
Anyone watching would see Lem wonder in through the Halfling quarter with the simple garb customary to his kin and a bulging backpack, on his back. Hanging from the backpack is a good size cooking pot, and a fine looking shield. Over his shoulder is an Earth Shaker so large, there would be no where for him to stow it or it would just drag the earth plowing a furrow behind him. Though Lem might be intimidating to those who don't know him the halflings know they have nothing to fear and he greets them merrily and seems of good cheer. Lem takes a meal with his kin and is filled with food familiar to him, a nice stew with some bread and cheese on the side.
After lunch he inquires where Alset might be, and when hearing he is at the bloated unicorn, Lem takes his leave and goes to see if there is a pint to be had with the noble Paladin.
Lem enters the open area of the bloated unicorn and sees Bragoleb wave at him. Lem orders a pint and goes to join him. Lem leans his Earth Shaker next to the table within easy reach. "Bragoleb, how are you!"
"Lem. So good to see you. Welcome to the Bloated Unicorn. Let me buy your next pint. Do you remember the stories I told of Odie? Well, his 'Beloved' is here with us." Bragoleb points toward the beautiful, pink pig near the center of the tables.
"Let me introduce you to Ood and Stonewall."
Introductions are made...
Earlier in the day... "Alset, so glad you could join us."
Later...
"Thurl, you are more than welcome to stay at the monastery. You'll have to tell me more of your travels."
"Ross was a great friend, if only we had known him longer."
Ood sits contemplatively for a time and reflects.
"Greetings Lem, have a seat"
Stonewall, the 8 ft tall mountain of a dwarf sitting in an oversized chair with his trusty tower shield leaning by his side welcomes Lem and Thurl. "Welcome! My name is Stonewall, always good to meet friends of Alset. Speaking of, how have you been Alset, I haven't seen you in some time!" Stonewall takes a huge swig from a giant sized tankard. "I'm the armorer around here so if you have need of..." Stonewall stops suddenly and notices Thurl in his robes with his cup of tea and looks at Ood. "Darn it Ood, not another one of you! Its not natural to go into battle with out armor. Its just not right." Stonewall looks even more intently at Thurl and recoils in shock. "No, you're a Dwarf? But, where has your beard gone?"
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Thurl greets Lem cordially,
When Bragoleb takes them over to the other table to meet Ood and Stonewall, he greets them both respectfully as introductions are made and smiles a little when Stonewall reacts to his monk robes but becomes serious when he is outed as a dwarf. "Yes, I have rejected many traditions. My study through Irori has changed much about me." He stares off with a wistful air but then refocuses on Stonewall. "But my search for perfection has granted me many abilities that are beyond most." Then Thurl turns to the group at large and says, "But enough about me, I would like to hear more stories from you all."
Arbaro sits down across from Achahut and says without preamble.
"I don't know if you know this or not, but there is a very Large dwarf off to your right."
"Stony is here?!" She whips her head around looking for him. "I've been out of the game too long if I missed him coming up. Come on. I'll introduce you. Who are you anyway? Shouldn't you have a bird? I feel like you are missing a bird."
She gets up and walks over to the table with the others.
"Everyone this is..."
Stepping up to the group Arbaro says:
"I am Arbaro, a woodsman, new to these parts. The kind gents behind me were telling me of this Odie character and mentioned that this one" Indicating Achahut. "was with him when he died saving this town. Anyway, I like to get my information as directly as I can. Does anyone else know of this Odie Ross? Here is a drink for everyone!"
Arbaro passes around the bottle for anyone who wants a drink.
Lem takes a swig from Arbaro's passed bottle and nods thanks
Arbaro looks around at the others and says in Common: "Uh, what did he say? I speak a couple of languages but not that one I guess."
Then he goes on in a couple of other languages.
EDIT:
Arbaro casts Detect Alignment and Detect Magic on the newly forming group. He would know if he needed to excuse himself and do it from a distance if it would draw attention or be suspicious.
These guys seem friendly but I'd rather find out now if one of them is pulling one over me or packing some serious magic.
Looking perplexed
With a friendly grin, Lem says
Arbaro looks around the group for help.
"Uh, anyone care to translate for the stocky little guy?"
Arbaro casts Detect Alignment and Detect Magic on the newly forming group. He would know if he needed to excuse himself and do it from a distance if it would draw attention or be suspicious.
These guys seem friendly but I'd rather find out now if one of them is pulling one over me or packing some serious magic.
Looking perplexed ** spoiler omitted **
[dice=Sense motive]1d20+5
Thurl looks at Arbaro with sympathy,
To Lem, Thurl says,
In Common, Arbaro responds to Lem's questions.
Arbaro raises his glass to toast and continues speaking in common.
To Lem,
A raised glass needs no translation.
Ood and Stonewall soon turn in for the night. They have classes to prepare and forges to warm for the morning. Achahut slunk off without anyone noticing, and sheriff Adaela, hearing the sounds of a scuffle down a side street, takes her own goodbyes and heads into the city center.
The remaining patrons, and yourselves, have plenty of drink. One of the tattooed elves plays a song on his drum and sings a sorrowful tune in Polyglot. The night feels cool after the heat of the day, finally, and the celebrations of the Cloudbreak Festival have gone silent. The lapping of the waves on the shore fills your ears, calmly washing the sands, up and down, up and down, up and down. The breakers grow stronger, splashing louder and louder, when you realize the noise is not from the breakers at all. Something is coming out of the water.
Splashing and struggling through the ocean to the beach, an injured merfolk flops above the waterline, her clothes rent and torn. She looks through blood-stained hair at the patrons of the Unicorn, a look of exhausted determination on her dimly lit face. The merfolk falls to her hands and says in a strained voice,
She collapses onto the beach, but the splashing has only grown louder. Flanking the merfolk from the ocean four humanoid shapes are seen, walking, the silhouettes of greataxes in their hands. Their barnacle-encrusted walking corpses drip with saltwater and a give off a nauseating stench.
Round 1; AC 14, 19/19 HP
A few patrons scream at the undead, but most are too paralyzed by fear to move. The elves shrug and say,
before continuing to play his song.
Round 1 |HP 53/53 | Lay on Hands 6/6 | Smite Evil 2/2 | Arrows 40/40
Brag stands and yells, "She cried for help. Let's do it."
Brag begins to move toward the merwoman while raising his hands (for dramatic effect) and channels positive energy at the five on the beach.
The positive force hits the four corpses (DC 16) and heals the merwoman.
Round 1 - HP: 55/55 - Judgements 0/1 - Spells 4/5 - Perfect Strike 2/3
Arbaro tilts his head to the left and cracks his neck.
Common:"They are Draugr, try to club them or slash at them if you can. Watch out for the axes, they'll make you sick if you get cut."
Moving closer to the merfolk, he attempts to cast Stabilize but realizes he is out of range.
Swiftly, Arbaro passes Judgement(destruction) and summons his bow from his Efficient Quiver.
Bow in hand Arbaro unleashes two Blunt arrows. One at each of the ones furthest west.
Perfect Strike
Round 1 | HP 35/35 | Advice 17/17 | Awaken Divinity 6/6 | Ki Pool 11/11
Thurl then reaches out and clasps Lem's shoulder and and where they touch, there is a soft blue glow.
Thurl then moves toward the injured Merfolkess to protect her from the foul corpses.
Round 1
RAGE 15/16, AC 22
Lem lets out a fierce yell in his native tongue
Lem rushes forward and smashes the nearest draugr
Round 1
Channeling energy causes a burst that affects all creatures of one type (either undead or living) in a 30-foot radius centered on the cleric.
The wave of holy energy blasts into three of the undead, but one brushed it off successfully.
Arbaro's two blunt arrows send the two westernmost undead back to Pharasma's Graveyard, their spirits wisping off into the night air as their bones collapse into a lifeless heap.
Lem slams his earthbreaker in an underhand swing into the draugr's jaw, popping its skull off, the undead's spirit spinning into the air.
Round 1
The lone remaining draugr runs through the surf over the sands and raises his greataxe over his head at Count Narsus.
"Goodness gracious!" the Count screams in Common.
He falls out of his chair, a gaping, festering wound in his chest. The count vomits into the sands.
Mirya, the potion maker lady, says,
Round 2, AC 19, hp 9/19
Party is up.
round 2
Still enraged 14/16, AC down to 18
Lem smashes the draugr into pulp
The citizens are still afraid (well, most of them), Count Narsus is injured but alive, and the merfolk is facedown in the water.
In common, then in halfling to Lem, "She can breathe in the water, but let's help her and find out what happened."
Brag goes to her and lifts her up on the shore. He checks her injuries and lays hands on to heal her.
In common, "Anyone know what language merfolk speak?"
Brag hands the merfolk off to someone (?) and goes to Narsus and heals him.
To Mirya, "Mirya, it's me, Alset. I am here, do not worry."
Arbaro checks for more badies while standing guard over the fallen merfolk.
After verifying that nothing else is coming, Arbaro looks impressed or possibly confused.
”Did anyone else see lightning from Lem when he hit or am I going crazy?”
Arbaro takes the merfolk from Bragoleb but doesn’t really know what else he can do for her.
”She said something earlier but I don’t speak whatever it was. It sounded gurgly.”
Lem assists where directed when he understands what’s going on, then addresses the band...
Lem drops a couple gold in whatever donation tray the musicians have available while talking to them.
Arbaro also cast Detect Alignment on the merfolk lady.
Just because she washed up on the shore and looked like she had been attacked by the undead doesn't mean she was. For all I know, they were hers.
Arbaro doesn't point his bow at her, but he is also ready to defend himself if necessary.
"Does anyone recognize her? Do merfolk and undead wash up here often?"
Thurl combs through all his knowledge of the area and tries to remember if he had heard of a Merfolk settlement in the area.
Thurl looks sympathetically at the merfolkette and the Count and says, ”Unfortunately, I have little knowledge of healing but I can take a look at her and see if I can tell anything.”
Thurl bends over her body to ascertain any injures but says, ”I can’t tell anything, Bragoleb, have you any more healing available to you?”
As Bragoleb lifts the merfolk up to the shore, he can see she is still conscious, but nauseated from the draugr's attack. Her wounds close over with Brag's healing, and she rests for a moment on the beach, sucking air fitfully.
Mirya nods at Brag's comments, "Oh, yes, I remember those whizzing arrows of yours. Thank you, kind sir. Want some more of my tea leaves back at the shop?"
The two elven musicians thank Lem for his patronage.
As Arbaro casts his spell on the merfolk, she brushes his arm away and stands up. "If you wish to know more about my person all you must do is ask. Keep those prying spells to yourself."
She speaks in Common now. She waves off any further attempts to heal her, whether magic or mundane.
"You four," she says, pointing to Arbaro, Brag, Lem, and Thurl. Her voice is strong now, and confident. "I thank you for saving my life. Would you care to save it again?"
Lem walks closer thinking, she seems to have recovered quickly.”
Thurl focuses on the merfolk woman with a supernatural focus and she feels him looking into her soul.
Thurl looks deep into her eyes and says, ”Peace, we don’t know you and just want to be sure of your character. Can we help you up to a seat? Where would you be comfortable? After we get you situated, you can tell us what brings you so far from home.”
Thurl helps her to where ever she wants to go and looks after her.
As Thurl uses his Ki point, she grows frustrated. But soon the dwarven monk's words calm the merfolk. To Thurl, she says,
To all four, she says in Polyglot and Common, "You four have proven yourselves strong, quick to act, brave, and intelligent. Most unusual traits to find in dry-legs, I might add. Situate yourselves as you see fit; my mouth is ready to speak if your ears are ready to listen."
She will stand and speak here or follow the group if they want to move to a more private location.
Lem leans against the haft of his Earth smasher and awaits further explanation blood still racing from the battle, short as it was.
Thurl thinks back to the attack. I wonder, did that draugr target the Count or was it random?
Thurl can’t seem to recall specifics from the attack.
Brag, ever wanting to help the oppressed, volunteers his services to the mer-lady in the common tongue. "Yes, ahhhh," searching for recollection of her name," I'm Bragoleb. What might be your name? Regardless, I am ready and willing to, as you say, "save your life again." What kind of assistance do you need against these unholy, undead creatures?"
"Call me Roccavisk," the merfolk says. In the firelight, out of the thrill of combat, you have time to see the merfolk in more detail. She is tall and svelte, standing proud and confident, as one used to authority. Her hair and eyes are cerulean blue, almost matching the opalescent scales of her tail. She wears an embroidered vest over a mithral chain shirt, a sword clasped at her belt. From her head to her fin she is decked in gold ornaments and jewelry; diadem, nose chain, hairpins, necklaces, armlets, bracelets, and chatelaines all sparkle in the firelight.
But she also carries an assortment of items that do not match the merfolk's outfit. Various detritus from the old shipwrecks, compasses, lanterns, mirrors and the like, are tied with strands of slimy rope or stained sailcloth to her wrists, hanging from her shoulders, or sewn onto her vest. Most awkwardly is a weathered, five-foot long oar sticking out from over her shoulders and a heavy, barnacled anchor almost dragging the ground tied to her belt.
"I recover artifacts from shipwrecks, studying their magical properties. Most commonly the wrecks have long settled to the ocean floor. But this last ship I saw, leaking and half-sunk on the waves above me, was not yet sunk, rocked back and forth by a storm. A man was sinking below the waves. I grabbed him, swimming to the surface as quick as I could, but when I saw his face above the waves..." Here Roccavisk pauses, looking for the right word to say. "He was already dead. Not from drowning. A husk. His soul had departed long before he fell into the ocean."
She stares into the distance as if looking at the dead man once again. "But his ghost was there. Is still here, if you would speak to it."
Roccavisk turns her eyes back to the four of you. "In that moment his soul, myself, and these relics became bound together." She lays out the heavy, barnacled anchor, the weathered oar, a broken astrolabe, and a small verdigris bell in the center of the group. "I cannot separate any one of us from the other, but I cannot understand the spirit. If you would listen, I will call him forth."
Arbaro looks concerned and takes a step back from the woman.
"So, you're cursed. Then you came to Paradon's Hearth for a translator?"
He turns to look at the others.
"Should we hear her out, or rather, hear the haunter?"
"Not only a translator," Roccavisk says, "And not here first. I have tried the soils off the Arcadian Ocean for half a year now. You are the first dry-legs to show any competence."
Speaking not too gruffly, but not ready to wait around all night...
Lem shifts his weight off the haft having calmed.
Brag looks at the three newly joined companions for their reactions, and then responds, "I will listen, I'm not afraid of the undead."
Roccavisk nods. She places the four items ten feet apart from each other and draws a circle around them in the wet sand, inscribing arcane symbols into the edges of the circle with her finger.
"Do not break the circle," she says.
As she finishes a cold wind blows from out of the circle, blowing out the nearby torches. Flickering into existence, the white form of the ghost apparates before you. Wearing full plate from head to toe and wielding a glaive, you cannot see the ghost's face, but he leans on his polearm wearily. Ghostly water gushes from between the plates of armor, likely representing the way in which the creature died. You can hear an echoing moan from within the armor, ranting and babbling in various languages.
"You may speak to it, if it can understand you," she says. "You have ten minutes before the spell ends."