GM MattMorris Fall of Plaguestone (Inactive)

Game Master ChesterCopperpot

In between runs to the kitchen, the timid goblin speaks quickly to Bennington, "Hallods not that bad...if you don't go anywhere near him. Oh!" He ends with a squeak as the the large man shouts, "Phinick! Ale!"

Meanwhile, at the bar, the keeper greets Guldun and Vetch. "Welcome to the Feedmill. I'm Delma. We'll be getting food out to you folks presently. We have a big dinner planned for tonight! Entertainment and everything." She looks over you shoulders and appears about to say something to Hallod about his treatment of the staff, but just as she opens her mouth the man stands up, drains the latest tankard brought to him by Phinink, and heads for the door. Delma mutters, "Loutish bully. More trouble than his coin is worth."

There are a few minutes of quiet in the tavern before a group of local farmers comes in, followed quickly by Olf and Ulf, come in from securing the caravan. A middle-aged man walks in alone and sits in one corner.

Delma excuses herself and shouts into the back, "Trin, Kolnral! Customers." A young woman and a dark-haired man quickly make their way into the tavern's common room and start greeting the regulars and taking orders.

Finally, Bort himself wanders in, accompanied by a half-elf holding a battered lute. The other members of the caravan follow them into the Feedmill, and Bort gestures for you to join the group at a table next to the common room's dais, where the half-elf has started to tune up his lute. "You're in for a treat tonight! Flonk here plays a mean ballad!"

The veteran members of the caravan roll their eyes at this pronouncement or fight to suppress laughter. It's evident they don't think much of Flonk's musical skills.

Uhtred waives over Ulf and Olf.

As you settle down to the first course of dinner, Bort chats with you warmly, "We didn't get to know each other well enough on the road! You've heard many of my stories, but I hardly know anything about you!" The dwarf pauses to take a hearty bite of the piping-hot roasted fowl that Trin has just set in front of him, and washes it down with a swig of the watery turnip ale that is the Feedmill's specialty.

"Where do you hope to go now that this run is finished?"

Bort waits expectantly for you to answer, while the rest of the caravan members pick at their dinners. In addition to the roasted game, the menu consists to roasted turnips with a side of burnt seed cake. It's not nearly the best food you've ever seen, but it's hot and fresh.

I hope to find a respectable house which may require my services. Might you know of one in town?

Bort chuckles. "While I respect many people in this town, they are perhaps a bit more...salt of the earth than you are used to, Mr. Good Good. Maybe you can use your earning to make your way to Elidir, or perhaps all the way down to Almas. Those Andorans talk about equality a good bit, but their Senators enjoy their creature comforts. I'd be more than happy to provide a letter of reference."

Though the dwarf is earnest, the specks of turnip in his beard make it difficult to imagine that he's very familiar with Andoran high society.

You're very good, Mr. Bort. I would be wise to do as you say. Oh, and my former employers referred to me as 'Uncle Good Good'. I should be delighted if you would do the same. With all we've been through it seems only right.

The goblin butler turns to the group and says, Now, may I refresh anyone's drink?

Vetch isn't planning on sharing his plans, largely because he doesn't have any. He's certainly listening carefully to what others are saying, because maybe they'll give him an idea.

"I guess I'll be looking for the next caravan to pass though. I try not to be out of the job for too long. The caravan life suits me well"
Guldun will say in response to Bort's question

"I'll take a topper if your offering, friend" she says holding her cup toward Mr. Good Good

Looking Guldun's way, Uhtred nods along.
"That sounds about right. I don't know how long the caravan life will suit me for, but it's working at the moment."

You notice that the noise level in the tavern is picking up, as the farmers get deeper into their servings of turnip ale.

Just as most of the people in the caravan are cleaning the last bits of dinner from there plates, a shout rings out across the common room.

"Kolnral, you oaf!" A farmer leaps up from his bench, his lap covered in ale. The server responds, "Watch your elbows next time, Eallon, you old drunk!"

The damp Eallon shoves Kolnral into the back of another patron, and before you know it, a dozen farmers are on their feet in a full-scale bar brawl.

Punches are thrown, mugs, fly through the air, and crockers smashes against the floor.

"Oh hell, not again." You hear Delma mutter as she dashes for the back door, followed closely by Phinick, who is covering his head with his hands.

Ulf and Olf hop up, nearly toppling your table, "IT'S ON!" they shout in unison as the brawl washes over you.

~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Uhtred
BGG
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10
Farmer 11
Farmer 12

Combat Map

Uhtred wades into the fracas and attempts to start breaking it up.
"Have some respect! Act like you've eaten in public before!"

I don't know how grabbing/immobilizing/shoving or moving another works, but he will step to number 12, attempt to grab him, and then attempt to pull/shove him towards the caravan crew. I'll roll two attack rolls for the two actions, but obviously you tell me if I'm even able to do both. Also, if it should be a strength check instead of an unarmed attack, just reduce it by 3. Thanks

grab: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

move: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

All combat maneuvers are Athletics checks now. Grabbing and shoving go against the target's Fortitude DC. (Tripping and Disarming go against their Reflex DC.) They are like attacks, so they take the multiple attack penalty. The grab is successful, the shove fails because of the multiple attack penalty. He's grabbed until the end of your next turn.

Uhtred steps up to one of the farmers and grabs him by the shirt, but the sturdy yeoman resists the barbarian's attempt to shove him around.

Oh my, this is most unbecoming.

Uncle Good Good slinks around the edge of the room, and when he encounters the farmer nearest to Uhtred, he attempts a Feint. Let the 2e feinting begin!

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 vs his perception DC. On a critical success he's flat footed against everyone's attacks until the end of my next turn.

That's a critical success on the feint! Would you like to target 11? 12 is grabbed by Uhtred, so it would be flat-footed anyway.

The farmers on the far side of the room mostly swing on each other, though one of them tosses a mug which flies wild and hits Trin, the server, who runs crying outside.

~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Uhtred
BGG
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10
Farmer 11 (Flat-footed)
Farmer 12 (Grabbed)

Combat Map

Yes, I'll target 11

Guldun will pull out her crossbow and load it
"Oi, yer acting like a bunch of fools"
She will nod toward telly who will dodge into the fray and give a menacing growl to 12
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
intimidate: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4
but she's just too cute to be scary

The farmers are too far into their cups to listen to reason right now. One of the tosses a chair at Bort, knocking the dwarf over with a loud, "Oof!" The morose-looking drunk you noticed earlier gets dumped off his seat by another farmer and scuttles out the front door.

A third drunk notices Uhtred gripping up one of his friends and tosses a mug at him.

mug: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 for bludgeoning: 1d3 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Uhtred
BGG
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10
Farmer 11 (Flat-footed)
Farmer 12 (Grabbed)

Combat Map

Vetch vaults over the bar and hides, peeking up to survey the scene.

The brawl sweeps over the group now.

Farmer 10 comes around to swing at Uhtred
fist: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25 for nonlethal: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
fist: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 for nonlethal: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Farmer 12 struggles against Uhtred's grip.
Escape: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Then moves out of the barbarian's reach.

Farmer 11 swings at Bennington and Telly.
fist v Bennington: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24 for nonlethal: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
fist v Telly: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19 for nonlethal: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
fist v Bennington: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (9) - 3 = 6 for nonlethal: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Uhtred (-10)
BGG (-6)
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Telly (-5)
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10
Farmer 11 (Flat-footed)
Farmer 12

Combat Map

Bennington tries to punch farmer 11
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
1d3 + 3 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 3 + (2) = 8 nonlethal

"Enough is enough!"

Uhtred goes into a rage and swings at Farmer 10

punch: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
for
nonlethal: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
and swings again
punch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
but appears to have lost his balance a bit in his frustration
if that actually connects...nonlethal: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Bennington and Uhtred join in on the fisticuffs. A hearty battle is underway across the room, but it's starting to draw closer to the group.

~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Uhtred (-10)
BGG (-6)
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Telly (-5)
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10
Farmer 11 (Flat-footed)
Farmer 12

Combat Map

Matt, did my attack on 11 connect?

Yes, you and Alex both! Sorry, I forgot to update the damage in the tracker.

"Tch"
Seeing Telly get hit by the drunk takes away any reservations Guldun might have had
She will study 11 and then attempt to glance a bolt off him

Precise Light Crossbow: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 2 = 19 for Piercing: 1d8 ⇒ 5 and precision: 1d8 ⇒ 8

Telly will also try to subdue 11
Precise Jaws: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 6 - 2 = 12 for Slashing: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 and Precision: 1d8 ⇒ 6
If the attack successfully hits she will use an action to trip 11

Guldun would have taken down 11 with the crossbow bolt to the knee. Would you like Telly to attack a different target?

Sure, Telly will move over to 12

With one farmer down, and another tripped by a wolf, the farmers on this side of the room start to look a bit shaken. Those on the other side are still swinging, though! They fight amongst themselves, though an errand thrown mug flies across the room at...
Target: 1d5 ⇒ 2
Bennington

mug: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11 for bludgeoning: 1d3 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
But it flies wide.

~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Uhtred (-10)
BGG (-6)
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Telly (-5)
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10 (-7)
Farmer 11 (Unconscious)
Farmer 12 (-12, prone)

Combat Map

Sorry again for the pokey pace. Busy at work. But, I'm looking forward to moving things along a little more quickly now!

Vetch fears if he unleashes a storm inside this establishment, he won't be welcome in this town again and he might really hurt some of the farmers, so he's staying behind the bar.

The farmers near you are nearly overwhelmed. The one closest to Uhtred dives behind the bar and attempts to hide.
Stealth: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

The farmer that is being menaced by Telly simply freezes. Tangling with a wolf was tough than he bargained for.

~+~Combat Round 3~+~
Uhtred (-10)
BGG (-6)
Farmer 1
Farmer 2
Farmer 3
Farmer 4
Guldun
Telly (-5)
Farmer 5
Farmer 6
Farmer 7
Farmer 8
Vetch
Farmer 10 (-7)
Farmer 11 (Unconscious)
Farmer 12 (-12, prone)

Combat Map

Uhtred moves to begin subduing the next group of fools

"Enough!"

moving to be in front of both 2 and 3, he swings at 2

punch: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
for
nonlethal: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

and then at 3

punch: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
for
nonlethal: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

forgot that Uhtred had already gone with "enough is enough," please pretend that he said, "Don't make this harder on yourselves than it needs to be"

UGG double moves to be beside #2 then feints.

Feint
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Just a note, telly only gets 2 actions, so she wouldn't have had enough to trip the farmer after moving and biting. Sorry that wasn't more clear

Just as Uhtred socks two more farmers, the front door to the tavern burst open. A short man with a prominent forehead steps inside, followed closely by Delma.

"Okay, knock it off you rowdies! I'm tired of coming out here every night to break up a brawl!"

"But Rolth..." one of the farmers begins to reply.

"But nothing, Hamish Standford! You come over here right now and make an accounting of yourself. That goes for the rest of you too! While I'm the sheriff of this town, we won't have public fighting endangering our guests."

The new-coming gathers the 11 farmers at a corner table, while Delma comes over and patches up the unconscious one near your table with a healer's kit. When he wakes up, the groggy farmer slurs, "No...er...hard feelings. Ugh..." before slumping off to the table, where Rolth is giving the patrons a good talking to.

Meanwhile, Bort makes his way back to the table. He's rubbing a bruise on his head from an errant piece of thrown crockery, but he has a smile on his face. "Ah, nothing like the Feedmill for a little local color. It's dinner and a show. Good work, there, by the way. The twins usually get pounded in those melees."

Ulf and Olf loudly protest, recalling several tavern brawls where they more than held their own, but Bort mostly ignores them. "Quiet you two. I was just about to tuck in to the dessert course when that ruckus started up. Turnip porridge! A personal favorite. These regional dishes are the highlight of caravan life."

It's clear that the staff of the Feedmill is away of the dwarf's fondness for the dessert, as Bort's bowl easily holds a helping twice the size of anyone else's.

[b]"Oh my, Master Bort, is that a soup spoon you're eating with? Please wait for me to get you the proper cutlery."

Taking a half-finished dollop of porridge from his mouth, the dwarf switches to the spoon proffered by the goblin valet. He proceeds to polish off most of the dessert, talking to the group between bites.

"Good Good, you've really classed up this place. I'll be sure you leave..." Bort breaks off with a cough, as if he's choked on a bit of pudding. "Er-hem. Leave with an excellent..." He coughs again. "Pardon. Excellent letter of reefeeeeeeerggggggg."

As Bort's speech cuts off, the dwarf begins to turn purple and flecks of froth appear at the corner of his lips. Seconds after, his eyes roll into his head and a rumble can be heard in his guts. He falls silent.

After a moment recovering from the shock, Guldun will run over to Bort and assess his vitals.

Medicine: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

"No one touch that puddin'" she will yell as she looks over the other dwarf

Guldun examination reveals that Bort isn't choking. His throat is swollen shut.

"Oh heavens, this is every butler's worst nightmare! Are there any healers about?!"

At Bennington's cry, Delma runs to the table. "What's wrong?"

As she sees Bort's darkening face, she gasps, "Oh no!"

The tavern owner reaches for the dwarf's face, but Bort slumps to the table. She presses her fingers to the side of his neck, then whispers, "He's gone."

Delma's rush across the room had focused the attention of the tavern's patrons, and he whisper carries across a quiet room. The diners and drinkers hastily set down their utensils, and many cast sidelong glances at their neighbors.

Delma looks across the room and you notice her gaze lands on the sheriff, who is quietly making his way toward the door. Calmly, but firmly, she says, "Rolth. Get. Over. Here."

Rolth reluctantly makes his way across the room to your table. "So...wow. N-n-n-atural c-c-causes? Oh. Oh my." He takes in the scene, noticing the concerned look on your faces. "Ugh. Delma. This is way out of my league."

The tavern owner gives the sheriff a stern look. "Oh believe me, Rolth. I know. And yet, here we are." She shouts across the room to one of the servers, who is standing open-mouthed by the bar. "Kolnral. Tablecloth please."

After the shaky server covers the body, Rolth squares his shoulders and says to you, "You...you better all come with me."

Rolth leads the way through the kitchen and out the back door of the Feedmill. All of the caravan members accompany him, and he looks like he expects you to follow.

If you do, he is waiting for you in the stables. "So, exactly what is going on here?!"

"I rightly don't know, but if you'll allow me to examine the body, I might be able to determine if it was poison based on the effects."

”we don’t know any more than you.”
Uhtred says to the sherif

Yes, my good man. Bort had been through this town many times before. Might you know of anyone who bore a grudge against him?

"Shouldn't we be, uh, securing the scene, taking note of everyone in the tavern, and all that business"
Guldun says with folded arms

"Well, I don't know if I should let you examine the body. You lot with the caravan are the prime suspects! Don't you all stand to inherit the caravan with Bort's death?"

Rolth seems pretty flustered by this whole ordeal. "I can't think of anyone in town who didn't like Bort. He got along with everyone...as far as I know."

"I should probably question all of the members of your group. Did anyone in the caravan have a grudge against Bort?"

The sheriff looks back in the direction of the tavern. "Delma likes things tidy. I'm sure she's getting everyone out of there and locking up."

"Well, I don't know if I should let you examine the body. You lot with the caravan are the prime suspects! Don't you all stand to inherit the caravan with Bort's death?"

At this, Vetch bursts out laughing, partially at the absurdity of the statement and partially out of nerves from the possibility of being a suspect.. "I'm not sure where you learned about caravan inheritance, but it most certainly doesn't work that way."

Unsure of himself, Rolth stammers, "Well, I'm sure...or I suppose..someone has to take the caravan goods, right?"

"Look! It just seems more likely that someone who knew him would kill him!" Rolth scratches his head. "What exactly, is your role in the caravan? Could you benefit from Rolth's death?"

"Far from it, good sir. We have lost a dear companion and a stable source of employment. I'm sure I'm unfamiliar with the law of caravan inheritance, but I believe Vetch has the right of it."

Uhtred mutters to whatever caravan crewperson is next to him, "And doesn't everyone in this town know him too?"