Day 1 in Dragonshore (Part 1)
A plain-sailed ship crests the waves of the Sea of Naladrin, finally arriving in Dragonshore; a bustling little port city along the southern coast of Baralona.
The salty sea air mingles with the woody smell of pines along the coastline, welcoming those aboard from their long voyage. Two stand on deck watching the approach, a white-scaled dragonborn with a regal-looking glaive in hand, only 17 years old at most, and a man in a grizzled military uniform, leaning on a gnarled staff.
Getting to talking, the two introduce one another, the dragonborn first.
“Hail there, friend. My name is Atriox the Unbroken.” He smiles. “I was once a prince of a far off and forgotten people. I am now the only surviving member of my proud family… I am a prince only in name now.”
“I have wondered from place to place finding nowhere that feels like home… but fate has found me here, and I sense something on the horizon.”
The man throws back his worn military hood exposing the face and long black hair hidden beneath it, as well as his piercing storm-blue eyes.
"Hello, Atriox. My name is Alrik, but most folks just call me The Tempest. I recently got done with my 8 year stint in the military, so I'm not really sure where my life is headed.”
He smirks, a long, jagged scar running from his brow down his cheek and disappearing into his beard seems to spark and dance as his mouth moves.
“But I figured a coastal town would be a nice change from the deserts I've been in for the last 3 years.”
“However, my condolences for your family..." he mutters awkwardly, as he isn't used to sincere expressions of sympathy.
Atriox grunts in response causing some steam to come out his scaly nostrils. He then says gruffly, "It was when I was but a young hatchling of 8, I barely remember them now.”
As the ship docks and the two adventurers regain their land legs, they gaze up the busy streets leading into Dragonshore.
Delectable smells drift from the farmer's market and the Dragon’s Lair Inn. A clear sounding bell rings from the Dragonshore Temple near the Townhall. There is also a sooty tang in the air from the local blacksmith, up to the left past The Scribes Den bookstore and the famous alchemy shop known as Wilster’s Oddities.
Though Atriox had the whole boat ride to get somewhat acquainted with this Alrik, he still gave the man a look over. He found something about those stormy eyes unsettling; even though he had practically the same eyes. He sensed that, like him, this man had gone through some hardships. He was uncertain how he felt about that.
Sensing something that he is likes about this human, Atriox decides to invite this so called "Tempest" to explore the town with him.
"So, Alrik, what would you say to exploring this new place together and afterwards I'll buy you a drink at the inn?"
Alrik ponders the offer for a moment, scratching his beard in thought before shrugging and nodding.
"May as well. Haven't had much company since I left those blasted sands..." he gestures for the Dragonborn to lead the way.
Atriox grunts once again and nods in the direction of the blacksmith. The clear ringing of hammer and anvil meeting and the smell of the soot of the forge are apparent.
He says, "It has been a long voyage and I should make sure that my blade and armor are at their best for whatever may lay ahead."
The dragonborn begins walking towards the blacksmith sensing the man right alongside him matching him in pace.
A rusted sign swinging overhead that bears the title Ferrar’s Arms. As you enter, you see a middle-aged man sitting near a dusty window at a desk almost completely covered in tools. He is holding a pair of pliers and linking ring pieces to the bottom of a chainmail shirt. He looks up at the approach of fresh customers.
"Greetings to you my friends! My name is Ferrar Axemage, founder and proprietor of this here blacksmith! Can I be of assistance to ya?"
"Hail there, blacksmith." Atriox looks around the room admiring the impressive craftsmanship of such a small-town blacksmith.
"We have just arrived here from a long voyage and found ourselves wondering this beautiful town of yours. I happened to see your shop and decided to have maintenance done on my gear.
“If this life has taught me anything friend, it is that a rusty blade or bad armor can do you in just as quick as anything else. My glaive could use some maintenance and so could my set of half-plate armor."
Atriox ponders for a moment and then says, "I wonder smithy, could you upgrade my armor on my legs? My half plate covers my chest well, but my legs are barely protected. It’d still need to allow me to move around in it. Think that's something you could achieve?"
He lays his equipment down before the man so that he may do his work.
"Fine idea in a place like this, Dragonborn." Farrar takes the equipment and starts looking it over.
"How about you Alrik anything catch your eye?"
Alrik grunts. "Blades and armor... they serve me little purpose." He wanders around, aimlessly eyeing the wares.
"You see, Atriox... I am no normal soldier. I harness the raw power of nature and force it to bend to my will. I am a Storm Caller."
Atriox grunts which clearly is a habit of his.... that or he just like watching steam come out his snout.
He cocks a crested eyebrow up coyly and says, "A storm caller eh? Sometime perhaps we should test your storm calling versus the storm that I can breathe out my maw?"
Atriox continues to laugh a second and then turn his attention back to the blacksmith, who grabbing some tools, has started working as he listens to the conversation between you both.
"Say...you look and sound like the adventuring types! Maybe you could be of assistance to me? I have this large crate of weapons I need delivered over there." Ferrar points across the room to a long wooden crate.
"Commander Ironfist needs it urgently at the Stonebreak Outpost, Northeast of here, about a day’s journey by foot. The fort has issued a request for all the weapons I have on hand and whatever I can forge in short notice, as they are running desperately low. Could you deliver this crate for me?
“You would have to travel through Tanglewood Forest... I don’t know if you are aware of this, but that’s a dangerous place to venture into at the moment. I will gladly pay you 60 gold pieces if you decide to help me out?"
Alrik furrows his brow. "Just spent 8 years surrounded by the military... thought I'd be coming here to get away from them."
He lets out a heavy sigh, followed by thumping his staff on the hardwood floors. "And how are we supposed to carry such a crate? I'm sure as hell not shouldering that damn thing!"
Ferrar gives a hearty laugh. "In my youth I coulda' hefted the thing right up the mountain! One in each arm! But... I concur, it would be safer for you both to travel a bit more cautiously." He leans back and strokes his beard, eyeing Alrik.
"8 years in the military, eh? Tell you what, I'll work on saddlin' up my old mare Ginger out back. She can pull a wagon for ya. Come back in a little while and I'll have it ready to go."
Alrik meets the blacksmith's gaze, his eyes catching the light. They seem to spark and flash, almost as if lightning is striking and reflecting in his eyes.
"Fair enough... anyone else in town need stuff delivered to this... Stonebreak Outpost? I don't want to make more trips than I have to."
Down the side of his face, the scar pulses and flickers with a purple energy. "And what sort of... dangers... might we see in the forest?"
A shiver goes up the man’s spine and he leans back in his chair.
"Well it's pretty wild wood ya know... could be anythin' ready to ambush you up there, especially for military supply shipments. Kobolds, goblins... What'd help is if you got yourself a regional map from the market. Least you wouldn't get so lost up in the mountains."
He removes his headband and wipes the sweat from his brow, replacing the colored cloth.
"I think I also heard somethin' about old Petvin up at the temple needing some leaves or somethin' frilly for the soldiers... You can check with him before you go. If you'll still take my offer?"
Alrik looks at Atriox and nods.
"Kobolds... goblins... not much of a threat compared to what we were dealing with in the desert. Basilisks, seasoned raiders, and more. I'm game if you are. Can always use a bit more coin... drinking and whoring isn't cheap." He smirks.
Atriox snorts a billow of steam out his nostril smirking while he does it.
"Kobolds and goblins eh? Sounds like fun if you ask me. Need to make sure I didn't get to rusty on that blasted ship. Get that cart ready and we will see if anyone else needs something delivered to this outpost."
Atriox turns to the storm mage and says, "Come Alrik, we’ve got a little adventure on our hands and I'll be buggard if we waste it!"
Atriox picks up his weapon and heads out the door following Alrik towards the temple in search of this old Petvin.
***
Down the road a way, the duo approaches a beautiful whitewashed building with a symbol of Pelor over the large doors. Pushing them open the two step inside.
The interior of this small temple is made entirely of wood. On one side of the temple, four wooden benches are facing an altar. On the other side of the temple, the benches have been stacked up against the wall, and there are several wounded men lying on the floor. Some of the men are blood soaked and moaning in pain. A dwarven priest is checking one of the injured men's bandages.
The dwarf sees you standing inside the temple entrance way as a strong gust of wind blows into the room. He rushes past you, shutting the doors behind you in a huff. The dwarf turns.
"Hallo! I’m Petvin, head priest of this temple. Do you need something? You both seem well and fit enough..."
He rubs his wrinkled hands together, picking at his teeth with his tongue as he sizes the two of you up.
"Ferrar said you may have need of people going North... to Stonebreak Outpost. We're taking a crate up there for him and I plan on making one trip, and one trip only."
Alrik throws the hood of his military cloak back, looking about the small temple. "What's caused this mess?" He points at the wounded.
Petvin throws his arms up and pushes past you to his patients. "Bah! Little Ferrar knows, the old windbag… As you can see, I currently have my work cut out for me. That outpost is sending down more injured men each day then I can treat.”
He grumbles, grabbing some fresh bandages as he starts rewrapping a wound.
“What makes matters worse is I've ran out of firebloom blossoms. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have never heard of these before..."
"They only grow locally in the one solitary place; Tanglewood Grove, on the way to Stonebreak. THAT'S what I need. Nothing more from that... hellhole of a fortification... Please, may Pelor spare my soul..." He curses under his breath, making a tsk sound as he licks his teeth again.
Atriox looks at the priest for a moment and then to Alrik. "What do you think eh? We should be able to pick a few plants."
He turns back to Petvin. "Don’t worry.... when we return, we will have your firebloom blossoms."
They go to leave, but Atriox stops right in the door and says, "But it won’t come free, priest." He growls low in his throat and then leaves his talons clicking on the floor heavily.
They begin the trek back to the smithy to see if he has his horse and cart ready to go yet.
Atriox looks over at Alrik. He raises a ridged eyebrow. "You don’t mind charging a priest for services do you?"
Alrik snorts. "Not even death is free, so why should my time be? No, I have no problem charging a priest for services... the way I figure it, I paid my free service and then some by keeping my oath of service."
The blacksmith stands outside his shop, the horse and cart all loaded up with the goods. Patting the mare on the nose and handing her a lump of sugar, his expression turns more straight-faced at your approach.
"Ahem--she's ready to go! You get everything you need, then?" Ferrar coughs as he lashes a few more ropes over the cargo.
"Yeah we are ready smithy. We talked to that dwarf, Petvin. He wants us to collect some flowers from the forest, from what I gathered." Atriox grunts.
"It was difficult to understand everything he was saying from so low on the ground, and through that thick beard."
Atriox laughs which just kind of sounds like a deep rumble emanating from his throat.
" I suppose we'd better be off, Alrik. Sounds like these soldiers need these weapons bad, and we wouldn't want this old man to keel over on us while we are gone now would we? Then we'd be out of pay."
Atriox laughs slowly in his throat again before starting off towards Tanglewood Forest with Alrik, leading Ginger and the cart of weapons.
It's a fair day, and it takes about an hour to lead her up the road and into the forest. It is a very peculiar place; everything that grows inside has a strange, red tint. The leaves shimmering overhead feel like they've captured the soft glow of a sunset and never let it go.
They take the most likely path, having left Dragonshore without an area map from the Marketplace, or any further information about the Tanglewood, the plants, or the Stonebreak Outpost... but they are confident in their abilities. It shouldn't be too hard, should it?
They continue their quest along a narrow dirt track. It winds its way through the thick shrubbery of Tanglewood. It's difficult and slow going, especially with a large cart and a horse. Suddenly the birdsong ceases around them.
They don’t hear the rustling overhead until it is too late. A small, white and gray scaly beast leaps from the branches of the nearest oak tree attempting a downward stroke of his spears. He aims right at Atriox, anger and greed in his eyes.
Alrik hears a whistling sound as two heavy stones come flying toward his head. BAM! He reels from the impact of the stones, his eyes erupting with lightning and sparks.
The dragonborn feels the lance of the strike across his shoulder, a gash now bleeding down the front of his armor.
Landing on the front of the wagon, the kobold hisses in a draconic language. “Leave here, traitor! Give us the goods and we’ll let you live like the pitiful worm you are!” The spooked horse rears up, terrified of the little creature behind her.
Atriox looks at his wound and releases a roar. He replies in draconic, “I know not what you mean by traitor, but I care little either way! You may be the lowest of dragon kind, but you should still recognize a higher being than yourselves you insignificant wretch. I am draconic prince! And you claim to follow a white dragon?!? And yet you attack a white dragon’s descendant? You are the traitors! YOU WILL DIE!"
Atriox roars one last time and then prepares to attack with fire breath.
The kobold warrior whips his arm forward with a turtle shell shield to block the attack, squawking, "You look like no prince to me! Tyranus of the Frost would flay you alive for attacking your own kind!! For serving our enemies---GAH!!"
As the inferno erupts around him, he flies backward off the side of the cart, scorch marks sizzling across the wood. He lays unconscious in the brambles with burns all over his body. His shield and spears are utterly destroyed.
Ginger is wild and frantic, her eyes spinning in her head at the sight and heat of the fire breath across her haunches. She seems about ready to bolt with the cart any second.
Atriox decides to spare the pitiful kobold until later. There might be some use for him yet. He rushes to Ginger to calm her down knowing Alrik is still in danger; he knows that if they lose the supplies this will have all been for nothing.
Atriox sensing that the horse is too afraid and panicked to hear mere words, decides to use his ring of animal influence to charm her into trusting him.
The ring pulsates a calming white light, catching the horse's eye. It flickers, and the weave of magic around the dragonborn wraps around the horse in a relaxing embrace. She whinnies a little and almost instantly focuses again.
“That's it, girl. Good Ginger.” He pats her neck softly and rub her head.
Focusing on the business at hand, Atriox moves to tie the unconscious and injured kobold up and throw him in the cart with the supplies. After that is done, he turns to Alrik ready to back him up… even though he's confident the grizzled veteran has it under control.
As blood runs down the storm caller’s head and across the scar, it flickers to life. Clouds billow in, darkening the sky and thunder echoes in the distance.
A lightning bolt suddenly arcs down, connecting with Alrik's uplifted hand. As the energy courses through his veins, he lets out a yell of rage.
"Only cowards and weaklings ambush their enemies! Face me, coward!"
You hear a violent scrambling through the distant trees and then... Silence. Raindrops begin to fall. They wash away the blood from your face and put out the smoldering embers on the top of the wagon.
Atriox is quite for a while. He walks up to Alrik and gives him a nod of approval.
"Well done, storm caller. I am most impressed. Why fight these pathetic worms anyway when you can send them scurrying back to their hole with their tails tucked between their legs?" He lets out a deep laugh.
The dragonborn walks back to the cart looks at his prize. The kobold remains unconscious, his scales scorched with thick, scarring blisters along his cheek and arm. They bleed through his bindings, the whitish gray war paint running off the mottled greenish scales beneath.
Not taking his eyes off of the pitiful beast, he continues to speak with Alrik. “I wanted him alive. He mentioned something about worshipping a Tyranus of the Frost. I wish to know more about this dragon… and he just might come in handy.”
Glancing over at the ruined shield, Atriox’s eyes happen to land on a glistening, platinum coin. It’s attached to the inside of it, untouched by the fire. Engraved on it is the head of a dragon, and it's scratched with an unrecognizable symbol.
Alrik straightens his uniform, the storm in his eyes subsiding. Gently touching his head, he hisses as his fingers touch the tender tissue. "Damn skulking bastards..." he mutters under his breath.
A rotting smell stirs up in the air from the rain. Among the foliage to the left, the storm caller spots the decaying corpse of a human. Dressed as some sort of herbalist with a symbol of Pelor on his tunic, he's riddled with arrows. You are seemingly lucky travelers through these woods.
Walking over to the rotting corpse, he examines it a little closer, the smell reminding him of the desert he is trying so hard to forget.
The rain trickles down the body through the glowing trees, disturbing the insects aiding decomposition. Alrik’s eyes pass over a discarded pile of plants beside the body. Wilted and rotting, some of them are still in the clumps of dirt they were pulled from.
Based on the symbol of Pelor on his ruined clothing, he is likely from the temple in Dragonshore. It looks like he came here for plants before being ambushed. Although riddled with arrows, you notice a strange liquid coming from his mouth. It looks like the arrows might have been poisoned. You're not sure which killed him first.
"Bah... poison. Another coward's tool. Poor bastard was probably killed for a tiny religious symbol he had on him. Damn kobolds..." he mutters, moving away from the body and back toward the horse and wagon.
Seeing the tied-up kobold, Alrik smirks briefly. "You plan on using it for information or eating it?" He chuckles.
Atriox gives a sharp toothed grin at the man’s words. "Nay he is not charred enough for me besides I don’t think any amount of cooking would cleanse the stench of this miserable wretch."
"Indeed, I intend to pry information out of the little worm. Whether it comes out easy or the hard way is up to him. I wish to know more of this… Tyranus of the Frost and what he’s like. Besides, if the Kobold is smart enough, he might cooperate. Who knows how handy he'd be? Maybe he can be our little helper and carry around our stuff."
Atriox chuckles to himself a little bit before continuing.
"I hadn't planned on him living but he's a scrappy little guy, I'll give him that much. Surely being in the army for so long Alrik, you know a thing or two about healing."
The dragonborn points at the kobold’s injuries. "Do you think you could do something about these burns so they don't get infected?"
Alrik approaches the bound kobold, looking him over. "Nothing a little bandaging and healing salve won't fix..."
He sets to work, wrapping up the wounds and dressing them until he comes to the blistered flesh. He smears a thick layer of the salve on them but leaves them unbandaged.
"Bandaging a burn traps the heat in, and causes it to swell, build up fluids, and eventually can rupture the skin. Best to leave it open for now."
The expert medical care seems to be helping and the kobold's breathing steadies. The rain begins to let up now. Everything smells fresh, wet and loamy, and the duo begins to look around for where to go next.
You move a little further into the forest. Ahead the paths seem... Strange. You spot a broken signpost laying in the mud. One portion signals a way to the Stonebreak Mountain Range, another to Dragonshore, and a third says Tanglewood Grove. Without the signpost or a proper map, you are rather lost.
A slightly larger path leads off to the left, and another goes right. They seem the most prominent... Which do you choose?
Atriox grunts in frustration cursing himself for not getting a map in town.
To Alrik he says, "I say we go left."
You walk for another hour or so down the road to the left. The going is slow as you navigate the horse and her heavy cartload of goods through the muddy track. Certain areas are covered in thick bramble and you are forced to stop and clear it. At one point there is even a rotten and fallen log blocking your way but working together you move it out of the path. It’s a rather pleasant time, considering everything.
Finally, a breeze of fresh, crisp air rushes up to greet you. The trees begin to thin, and it grows lighter. More natural. You’re coming to the end of the Tanglewood Forest, having (luckily) gone the direction of the Stonebreak Mountains. Hope rises in your chests. But the air feels eerily quiet here. There’s a notable tension.
Atriox stops and sniffs the air and listens for something.... anything out of place.
To Alrik he says "I don't like this, I don't like this at all. Be on your guard Storm Caller."
Atriox is readying his own weapon as he says this. (Investigation 12)
Stones and arrows rain down on you from the surrounding rocky hills leading up the Stonebreak pass. Among the chaos an icy ball of energy slams into the ground between you both and shatters into a thousand deadly ice crystals. Shouts in draconic can be heard; some unintelligible shrieking, some phrases like, “The cart! After the cart!”, “Traitor!” and, “They’ve captured him! Make them pay!”
The horse rears back and amid the chaos, being struck by several of the projectiles. Ginger flees in terror and pain, taking the cart down a narrow gully. You can hear the metal wheels of the cart click-clacking roughly over the stones in the distance. From what you can tell, you are surrounded by 4 kobolds like the ones from before, and a new one… a wyrmpriest. He grins evilly from a precipice and holds his gnarled black staff out at you for another attack.
You both roll out of the way of the incoming attack. Alrik grabs one of the arrows in midair, tossing it aside with fury. Atriox tumbles to the left, coming up hard on two kobolds. They look furious and terrified at the same time, reading more rocks.
As Atriox recovers from rolling out of the way he yells to Alrik "we must make sure they don't get to the cart!" He then returns his focus to the two wretches in front of him who are about to launch another volley.
Before they can fire Atriox throws his glaive at one with a deep growl. (Rolled at 15)
As Alrik throws the arrow aside, the storm returns to his eyes. "Grab onto something, Dragonborn!" He roars, trying to make himself heard over the booming thunder that suddenly echoes throughout the sky.
Raising his hand above him, the clouds swirl, darkening and flashing with lightning. The Storm Caller slams his hand down onto the ground, and a deafening crash throws dust and debris flying. (Everything within 15 feet of me needs to make a con save. DC is 13)
Atriox's glaive flies right through one of the kobolds, slamming it up against a rock against the cliffs. Its body goes limp instantly. Hardly a second later the ground rumbles a deep growl as the thundering earthquake reverberates across mountain. The wyrmpriest retains his footing, resisting the attack, but two of the kobold slingers to the right stumble and fall from their perches.
The huge soundwave pulsates across the rocks like a typhoon. Atriox feels like your head is in the heart of a maelstrom.
The kobolds clasp their claws over their ears, dropping their weapons--even the priest loses concentration on his spell, the icy light fizzling out of existence... But it's of no use. Their ears bleed from the intense vibrations, and the air is filled with shrieks and cries.
Two collapse unmoving, and a distant rumble competes with the noise. Rocks come rumbling down the mountain, crushing the small battalion of monsters.
Atriox gets up slowly with a grunt. His ears are still ringing but he embraces the pain as an old friend and let's it fuel his resolve. He walks to where his glaive is still holding the corpse to the rocks. Atriox decides to loot this wretch as he is right there.
Brushing the debris away you give the creature a quick pat down. You find a small brown jug with a stopper in it, a bag of copper pieces (about 50 in all) and his small rock sling.
You also notice this small kobold is a bit different than the other one you captured. Under the dust, blood and war paint you see his scales are of a different patterning and bluish in color.
Atriox pockets everything he finds off of the dead body and then carefully as to make sure the body stays on his blade, he pulls it from the stones and rockslide. Afterwards he peers at the dead body on the end of his weapon studying it on last time before roaring loudly. He then launches the body of his weapon through the air. As it smashes to the ground some distance away, he can’t help but chuckle deep in his throat.
Atriox then goes to look for ginger and the precious cargo she pulls.
As you clamber down the rocks into the gully, you see Ginger frantic and straining with the wagon. The cart is slightly damaged and caught on a large rock, and the way back has smaller stones blocking the way.
You also see the pointed spears and tails of kobolds the rockslide happened to take out. It looks like they made to ambush the cart and were caught unawares.
(You will want to calm her again. And clear the way with another Strength check. :))
Atriox sensing that he’s going to have an even harder calming ginger decides he has no choice but to use his ring again you grab her by the reigns and begin to stroke the side of her neck. As he does the ring begins to light up.
The flickering light dazzles and calms her like before, but you can tell she's getting exhausted. She's foaming a bit, and her back is grazed with cuts from the arrows. You can see some marks where rocks had smacked against her tawny back and neck.
(1st success :) )
Alrik stands, taking a step up out of the small crater around him. He shakes the dust out of his jacket, and using his staff, starts carefully poking at the landslide, looking for the priest kobold. (12 investigate)
Calling down the other side of the roadway, he inquires about Atriox and the horse. "You okay down there? That blacksmith's horse isn't dead, is it?"
Atriox grunts and says, "about as good as can be expected Storm caller" (said sarcastically) "next time you want to show off make sure I'm clear of the blast will ya?" Atriox chuckles "All well were alive ginger is alive and my prize is still here. That's what counts I suppose. I'm going to get ginger and the cart back up there."
The rocks and slate tumble away as Alrik prods them. Eventually you strike something soft. Kicking away the stones with your boot, you find the top half of the wyrmpriest's mangled body. His small staff is smashed into splinters, and his clawed hand rests limply near it. You notice a glittering silver ring on his hand, with 6 white sapphires around the edges. One seems to glow faintly.
Alrik reaches down and removes the ring and finger from the priest's hand with a dagger from his belt. "Seen my fair share of cursed objects in the desert... don't want to take any chances..." he mutters to himself as he takes a closer look at the ring. (14 arcana)
It glitters in the sunlight and radiates a pure energy. You can feel the tug and pull of the weave around it as you study the jewelry. It appears a spell of some kind is stored inside the ring, and that more could possibly be placed inside.
Still not totally convinced it isn't cursed, Alrik pries the ring off the finger with the dagger before wrapping it in a bit of cloth and dropping into his satchel. "Need help with anything down there or you got it? He calls to the Dragonborn
(10) After calming the horse, Atriox looks under the wagon. Seeing the large rock wedged next to the back-left wheel, he tries to maneuver the end of the cart so it will roll safely off. Unfortunately, as Ginger pulls, the wheel slams down across the other side, loosening the bearings and the metal hub. (Fail 1)
(11) You try to maneuver the horse around, but it's a tight fit in the gully. You can hear the wood straining as the wheels creak. Reaching down, you begin grabbing rocks and stones and chucking them to the side. It's tedious work and the wagon has a tough time of it. It shakes violently going over the rubble, and Ginger limps along. (Fail 2)
(18) Worried the supplies will tumble out of the cart, you take a moment to tightness the ropes on the back. Wisely so, for several of the crates looked near to spilling out. (Success 2)
(18) Clicking your tongue to guide the horse forward, you encourage her steadily back up to the main road toward your friend. She is eager to get out of the dangerous area and back on level ground. (Success 3)
Atriox finally gets ginger back onto even ground with the cart intact more or less....
Though the dragon born prince Is strong he has taken some damage and after that climb he needs a minute to recover somewhat.
Finally, Atriox looks over at Alrik and squints his eyes menacingly at the human. " I bet your just enjoying this aren't you? Laugh it up while you can old man it's your turn next time to go horse chasing."
"So Alrik we've looted the bodies, recovered the delivery. I think we can finish this job once and for all don’t you think?:
"Why would I be laughing? A horse, that doesn't belong to either of us got wounded on our watch. If anything, I am livid. The rest of these damn kobolds will pay for this..." Alrik points at the bruises and arrow cuts on Ginger. He slowly walks up to the horse, his hand extended so it can smell it and not be frightened by his touch. "Easy, there. I just want to take a look at your wounds..." (blah... only a 9 handle animal)
(Actually, that works! It's a lower dc since its being relaxed by the ring)
The horse wearily sniffs at your hand and senses the lingering scent of rain. Shaking her head and rattling the bit in her mouth, Ginger pushes her nose comfortingly into your palm.
Alrik runs his hand up her nose and down her neck, then across her back to the wounds. Carefully, he rubs some healing salve on them and then gently pats the side of her neck as if to say all done. (Woohoo! 17 medicine!) "That ought to help a bit, girl."
He looks at the Dragonborn. "If we keep this up, I'm going to run low on healing supplies... best to be on our toes from here on out. These cowardly bastards seem to like waiting for travelers..."
(That was awesome Chant, great roll and description :3 )
The balm soothes the cuts and bruises in no time. The horse looks pleased, letting out a soft whinny and shaking her mane. She bumps Alrik in the side with her head affectionately.
(I've seen my wife and parents do that to horses... it's a thing you do so they know where you are... horses have crap vision up close)
"Let's keep moving, Atriox. You want to take point and I'll stay back to watch out behind us."
Atriox grunts and says "with pleasure" he smiles while twirling is glaive for fun. He heads up to ginger and begins to guide her towards the base.
After another hour or so, you finally crest a peak and look down on Stonebreak Outpost. A small, well-fortified keep can be seen up ahead. Flags carrying the Dragonshore crest of gold and green fly at each corner.
The whole place is a hive of activity. A small group of men are digging a trench on the western side of the wall, and there are a few masonries adding extra height to an existing wall of the fort.
You approach a stocky human wearing a polished breast plate. He carries himself like a leader. You deduce this to be Commander Ironfist, the man you are to deliver the weapons to. He is standing just outside the keep's stone walls, watching two soldiers practicing various battle techniques. Close by, there are around a dozen archers shooting at hay targets hung on the outside walls.
As they approach, Alrik calls out to one of the two sparring. "Widen your stance! One strong swing and you'll be thrown off balance."
The man turns his head in surprise. His sparring partner takes the opportunity to perform a low sweep with his sword, knocking the man to the ground.
Commander Ironfist gives a hearty laugh. "Ah, you must be the new recruits! Welcome to Stonebreak Outpost!"
Alrik growls, his eyes flashing dangerously. "New recruits, my ass! I put more than enough of my time in... we're just making a delivery."
Atriox says "Indeed we have both already seen our fair share of battle. We come barring a delivery from the smithy in Dragonshore. Weapons I believe."
He laughs even louder. "Of course, the old man's horse is a dead giveaway." He waves his hand in jest. "I can tell from the look of you, you're both quite familiar with battle. Likely sick of it I imagine..." He eyes Alrik's attire with a curious expression. The fallen soldier stands up and brushes himself off, staring at the newcomers in awe.
He approaches and goes to inspect the goods in the crates. Up close you can tell he's a seasoned soldier and is missing half his left ear.
"I have been waiting for these for weeks now. Our weapon supplies are dwindling severely... It's hard to get supplies now, what with all of the Kobold activity in the area. I will arrange for Ferrar Axemage to be paid for these. The letter inside the crate here says to remove your delivery fee and give this to you." He fishes out a satchel of 60 gold pieces, placing the bag in Atriox's clawed hand.
With a smirk he adds, "I see you have captured one of the beasts? Don't let the lads see or they'll stick a knife in him."
Alrik turns and looks at him, pushing his hood back. "They'd be smart to leave him be. I used some of my healing salve on him and I'd rather it not be wasted..."
Atriox does his normal grunt forcing steam to billow out his nostrils. Looking at the man in charge he says "indeed I would be very........displeased if your men lost control of their senses and killed this wretch. He has information that I need. Besides I'm looking forward to what he might say and how he sees his future going from here"
"Information you say?" He strokes his chin, a shrewd expression on his face. "Perhaps we can be of a mutual assistance to one another? Mind taking a walk with me while the men here care for the cart?"
"I'll hear you out then but I'm going to wake up my kobold friend here. He’s not leaving my sites especially since your soldiers are probably thirsting for revenge."
Atriox goes over to the kobold and begins the process of waking it up.
The kobold rouses after a moment, groggy and in pain. Seeing Atriox right above him he snaps awake, screeching, trying to bite and claw at the Dragonborn. His bindings restrain him from doing any harm, but the noise sets the whole keep into action. Soldiers rush over, swords drawn, used to being attacked almost daily by the kobolds in the hills. His undercommon speech is broken and his screams ring in your ears, "TRAITOR! WORM! WRETCH!"
Atriox grabs the kobold firmly by the chin making sure that he has its attention. He stares right into its eyes as he says "I don't know who or what has filled your mind with these illusions little one. But I assure you I am no traitor......or a wretch.(said with a cocky grin) I could killed you easily! But instead I spared you, I asked my friend here to heal you. I won’t lie, I do want something from you but if you allow it to be this could be an opportunity for you little one. An opportunity to exceed what you thought your life ever could be. A chance to fight real battles and make real money. To let your life really mean something. Or you could keep on living in the bushes, robbing passersby and making scant for it. One way or another I will get what I want. So, what will it be?" (Persuasion check) (using charisma 19)
At your words, the kobold stills his thrashings. He looks incredibly uncertain and entirely distrustful. But he says no more, turning his gaze away. The soldiers wait on edge and the Commander gives a signal for them to stand down.
Atriox seemingly pleased says "good decision. For now, you will stay restrained but prove yourself and they may yet come of."
Atriox helps the kobold out of the cart and onto his feet. Using the rope that binds the prisoner as a leash of sorts Atriox turns to the commander "Shall we?"
Commander Ironfist tosses you a cloth. "Blindfold the little bastard. I don't want him spying on us." He motions for the soldiers to continue unloading while he walks down the path with you both.
Alrik pulls his hood back up and follows quietly, trying not to draw attention to himself. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out a small bronze case, retrieving a cigarette from inside it, he lights it with a small spark from the tip of his finger.
Atriox notices these tiny movements that Alrik makes and decides to respect them, keeping the attention on himself and away from Alrik.
"So, Commander Ironfist what is it you would like to discuss we me? I'm most curious as to how you think we could benefit from each other."
Soldiers walking by slow down as you pass, talking in hushed whispers. Most of what you can catch has to do with the strange kobold captive. However, you're sure you hear smatterings of the term "regal-looking" Dragonborn, and even the name, The Tempest.
"...Did you see his long hair? And that scar! Of course -I- saw it out front... That's how he described him alright." "...He's got his uniform still, it has to be him. But all his ranks and badges are removed… why?" "...I heard the rumbling in the mountains earlier, was it their doing?"
Commander Ironfist ignores them for now, leading you on a loop around the keep so he can continue monitoring the work.
"Our forces in this region are becoming thin. This area was once a relatively peaceful place, but not of late. We are being continually attacked by kobolds from the east. We have also had a few smaller groups attack us from the Tanglewood Forest to the West." He glares at the kobold momentarily before continuing.
"This fort was constructed to protect the region from intruders coming through Stonebreak Mountain Pass, however the western face is… somewhat vulnerable. We are attempting to reinforce the western wall as a countermeasure, but… I fear that if we were attacked by a sizable force from the western side, we would not have enough manpower to thwart the attack."
He turns to face you both. "If you are willing, I--"
A kindly-looking lieutenant walks by, startled, then turns and calls out interrupting the conversation, "Alrick?! Is that you, you grumpy old rain cloud? What are you doing here?!"
He breaks into a wide grin and pulls Alrick into a back-popping hug; something he was known for. He then clears his throat and steps away. "Apologies, Commander. I know Mr. Alrik from my time in the deserts... He's a great man. A fantastic fighter."
"Is that so, Donovan?" Commander Ironfist smiles. The soldier was likely in his early 30’s and served with you for a few years in the military. You recognize him now. He'd aged a bit, sporting some untimely grey in his blond hair and wielding more muscle than you remember. You saved his life once in an ambush with a basilisk. It had killed half your squad, but you took it out right before it reached him. Your valor saved your lives but left you with your scar.
"Lieutenant, now eh? Besides that, and your gray hair, not much has changed about you Donno..." Alrik rubs his back as he talks. "Glad you're still kicking. Would be a waste for me to stick my neck out like I did only for you to have it chopped..." Alrik smirks, the scar seeming to flicker with energy
Donovan smiles from ear to ear. "Never would forget that." You notice he sports a scaly set of bracers over his armor, the same coppery blue of the basilisk.
The Commander clears his throat to silence Donovan, but grateful for his reassurance of these strangers. He continues to address you both rather seriously. "If you are looking for work--mind you, not as soldiers but rather, mercenaries--I have a job I need some able men to carry out. I would be grateful for your help in this dire hour."
"A few of my scouts have reported seeing kobolds entering and exiting the temple ruins during the night, northwest from here, near Tanglewood. If you would, head to those ruins. We need to find out why these kobolds are attacking us, where they are coming from, and put a stop to it! For the safety of Dragonshore and the whole coast."
He stares again at the captive kobold, then at Atriox. "I'm sure he can be of use, despite being the miserable little beetle he is. Perhaps in the ruins you will find more information as to what you seek, Dragonborn."
Atriox thinks it over.........
Finally, he looks at Alrik and then back at the commander. "I think we might be able to help each other out as you say, but we are already weary, and I am injured. Do you happen to have a place here in the fort where we can rest for a while and regain our strength? After we are healed and got some energy in us, we could set off immediately and be better prepared for whatever we encounter at this temple."
Alrik nods. "Also, where are your mage guard? I have a ring I need them to look at. Found it on a kobold. Want to make sure it isn't cursed."
He lets out another boisterous belly laugh. "Of course, of course. Lt. Donovan, please show them around. Make sure they're comfortable. Maybe they'll want to stay!" He laughs as he leaves.
"Yessir!" The soldier salutes with his hand across his chest. "This way, fellas." He motions with his hand, leading you both across the promenade. He points to an open gate where men are filing in and out. "That there is the mess hall and barracks. You'll find food and beds there, Dragonborn. Most rooms are shared bunks, but you can use my private quarters. 3rd door on the right. I'll have a healer by shortly, too."
Atriox grunts his thanks and says he’s going to head to the soldier’s room for abit with our friend here. (Kobold) To Alrik "Don’t blow the place, will you? And be careful with that ring."
Donovan nudges Alrik. "This way to the mage guard. They're probably finishing up a meeting right now, but then you can speak to the head mage, Markus. He's a delight," he says sarcastically, "but he knows his stuff."
He leads just a little further and indicates an oak door to the left. It has a sigil of a flask with a snake wrapped around it burned into the wood.
The Storm Caller nods at Atriox. "Watch out for that coward. Never know when he's going to try something..." he points at the Kobold following behind the Dragonborn.
Making his way to the door, Alrik steps inside, pushing his hood back and leans against the wall next to the door, waiting silently for the meeting to wrap up.
(For Alrik) After a few moments of waiting with Donovan, the door swings open. Several soldiers file out most bearing a crest matching the symbol on the door. The last person inside is a goliath, standing about 6'5 and at best, 200 lbs. He has his hood down, his bald tattooed head hung low over some scrolls and maps atop the table.
Spotting Donovan first he sneers, standing up straight. "Come to bother me again, Lieutenant? Is there another false alarm like last time?" His eyes take in Alrik, looking him up and down. "And who is this unmarked soldier?"
Donovan stands stiffly beside you. Despite being a higher rank, you can tell he had trouble around Markus. "Commander Ironfist has asked we come to you for the analysis of a magical artifact."
"Oh?" He looks at Alrik expectantly, his dark eyes somehow showing both boredom and mild interest.
The Storm Caller eyes Markus, a slight glare flashing across his face. A small storm lights up in his eyes, but only for the briefest of moments. "A word of caution, Mage... you need to make friends with the soldiers, for there may come a day when your magic fails you and you're forced to rely on their sword for protection..." Alrik's face seems cool and calm in demeanor, but his eyes betray the emotions his face portrays. Inside them, there is a raging storm, fueled by anger.
Finally, Alrik produces the ring from his satchel and carefully unwraps it, holding the cloth it lies on in his palm. "Cut it from a kobold priest's finger..."
Markus shrugs as if it is of no consequence. He slips on a pair of supple black gloves and takes the ring. Pulling out a magnification instrument, he holds it up to a nearby lamp. The light from one of the sapphires continues to put out a soft white glow.
"This is undoubtedly a ring for storing spells," he drawls on with more detail. "Essentially, spells are placed into it by touching the ring while casting the spell. The spell manifests no effect during the process… The ring holds the spell energy until the attuned wearer uses them." He places the ring on a magical brass scale, a strange runic cube on the opposite side. He twists it as he mutters an incantation under his breath.
"Yes... yes I see. Rather mundane, really. This one can only store up to 5 levels worth of spells at a time before repelling the excess back into the Weave. Seems it has something inside already. Looks like a healing spell... probably a low-level Cure Wounds evocation…" He hands it back to you, Alrik. "I take it you killed the wretch before he could easy it.
Alrik slips the ring onto his finger. "I see. Thank you for the information..." he turns to leave, but says loud enough for Markus to hear, "Donno, if this man gives you any more trouble, let me know and I'll send word to Magus Jaundree. I'm sure The Inferno would like to know one of his officers isn't cooperating with the soldiers..."
Markus looks as if he's been force-fed a sour lemon. He's not pleased at all. Donovan looks between you both and gives a curt nod. "Yessir."
He shuts the door behind them to continue conducting business with the mage, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Alrik pulls his hood back up and cracks his knuckles. "Well, he's a right bundle of joy... what an ass." He pulls out another cigarette from his jacket and lights it again with a small spark from his fingertips.
"So, the food here any better than the slop they fed us in the desert?" He gestures to the mess hall.
Donovan walks with you, a smile on his face remembering Markus' expression. "Of course! I insisted we secured a competent chef to lead out here. Convinced the Commander it would help morale..." he chuckles. "The elk meatloaf is rather good, I recommend it."
Several soldiers salute or shake hands with Donovan, who cordially greets each one. He seems to know the men here extraordinarily well. Grabbing a plate and letting a cook scoop on a helping of meat and potatoes, he looks sidelong at Alrik. "So, what have you been up to these past few years, friend?"
Alrik gestures to the cook that he needs 3 trays of food, thinking of his Dragonborn companion and their ward. "Same as before, for the most part. Surviving in that barren waste of a desert, and you know how that goes. Basilisk attacks, supply raids, deserters, and such. It wasn't until recently I got out of that hellhole..."
Alrik thanks the cook with a nod, grabbing the stack of trays and walking back toward the door. "I'm hungry, so I'm assuming that Atriox and our little whelp friend are as well..."
*** To Be Continued ***
No comments:
Post a Comment