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#1
07-04-2011, 08:11 AM
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Hillsfar
In spite of the cold and the dangers of the woods, there was something extraordinary about the season. Food was plentiful, if you knew where to look, and your six elven hosts were gracious in sharing their knowledge with you. So through the months you shared their camps, listened to their stories, and you found that their celebration of the most dreaded of seasons eased the pain of your loss for a while. You did not stay in place for long, moving with such a pace that you swore your heart would burst. With their encouragement and help, however, you adapted quickly and soon joined in their games of speed and stealth. The elves rarely made fires and seemed not to notice the chill in the air, though a shape-shifting Druid named Marecin would coax heat from volcanic stones from time to time. While they seemed to enjoy the warmth, you suspect much of it was for your benefit. The days passed quickly, and you found yourself aiding with their mastery of the Common language as they taught you theirs. They taught you how to find sweet lichens that grew in the moonlight, nutty drupes whose hard, seed-like exteriors kept them through winter, and of other woodland delicacies. When time allowed, they taught you to wield a sword and sharpened your skills with the longbow. The miles would disappear beneath your feet as you followed them through what was once the Elven Court, marveling at their history and culture. During your travels, your eye spied a crystal spire reaching high above the treetops while your troupe stalked devils outside of ruined Myth Drannor. You saw the trees reaching for you in the Vale of Lost Voices as you eluded a marauding force of renegade Drow... and heard their screams behind you as they foolishly followed. You hunted Manticores within the evergreens of eastern Cormanthor and skirted a sleeping dragon's den. You saw pillars of smoke from the chimney fires of the Dale communities where men still honored their promises to the elves and greeted your troupe like royalty. There, deep within the old forests, you learned as much about the Tel'Quessir as you did yourself. Within Cormanthor, the mightiest trees creak and groan under the weight of winter, but they do not break. The snow was thawing and the grasses were beginning to peek from beneath the white blanket that still covered the ground when you returned to Hillsfar. Although it had only been a few months, it seemed like years has passed. The day came, however, when they had to go where they could not ask you to follow... "Our fight is not yours. Do what has to be done, but do not waste your life's light, Neroth." Tymil, the copper haired Tel'Quessir that had been a friend and mentor advised before vanishing back into the woods. With their parting, you turn to the walled city of Hillsfar, crouched above the coast of the Moonsea... and notice a falcon soaring overhead that calls out before following. Perhaps one day you will meet Tymil, Marecin, and their band of hunters once more. Last edited by mad_gondsman; 07-04-2011 at 10:58 AM. Reason: Needed salt... 
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#2
07-04-2011, 08:35 AM
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#3
07-04-2011, 11:01 AM
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Approaching the high walls of the city from the South was no less intimidating than approaching by sea. Staying on the well-travelled road after leaving the protection of the forest, Neroth went immediately to the city's South Gate, giving wide berth to where his burned out cottage and the remains of his former life rested.
His heart pounded in his chest as he got within sight of the gate. The eponymous red plume on the guard's helmet was more visible than the man's face. Neroth dug down into himself for a measure of control, of patience. Attacking the Red Plumes directly was an empty, suicidal gesture at best. He vowed to hold his "life's light" as more precious and knew that if he were to dedicate himself to discipline, training, and to the accumulation of power, someday he might make his revenge in a meaningful way. Slinging his bow and his pack squarely across his shoulders and adjusting his cloak to hide much of his face, Neroth swallowed his bitterness and addressed the guard with a weak smile. "An attempt to improve my conversation through Diplomacy: Dice Roll:
Last edited by myorke; 07-04-2011 at 11:03 AM.
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#4
07-04-2011, 12:15 PM
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One of the young fellows at the gate turns from a few of his plumed companions, who are poking through a struggling merchant's wagon while giving him a world of grief, weighs you with an appraising glance as you approach.
__________________"Sure thing..." he says gruffly as he leans to the side to peek under your cowl. "Head straight down the main thoroughfare here. At the split on your right hand side is the Ranger's Roost. They cater to you outdoorsy types... lots of crazy crap hung on the walls and the ale is good, I hear." he says, settling back and leaning on the haft of his spear. "What brings you to town?" he asks conversationally, perhaps showing a little interest in a fellow Hillsfarian that hasn't spent the winter cooped up within the city walls.
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#5
07-04-2011, 12:37 PM
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"Spring is coming. I figured that now might be a good opportunity to lend a hand to one of those adventuring parties that arrive around this time of year, someone looking for a local guide who knows these parts and their way around. Have you heard of any work of that sort or anything similar?
Neroth relaxes a little, his worries easing just a touch. With some 5,000 men in the town's garrison, chances are slim that this individual has even seen him before. "Not that he would recognize me anyway," he thinks to himself. "I barely recognize myself." Truly, the winter's activities were a boon to Neroth's health and fitness. He felt taller, stronger, and a thick beard hid his previously boyish looks.
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#6
07-04-2011, 01:17 PM
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The guard at the gate gets a good chuckle at the adventurer portion, but hears you out without interrupting.
__________________"Watch who you associate yourself with in there. Some of those adventurers get high opinions of themselves and the only opportunity they get is to see what they're made of in the arena..." he says with a snort of laughter, casting a glance to the shakedown of the merchant... whose woes are deepening. From the look on the guard's face, however, nothing is out of the ordinary. As he continues, he reaches down to a bundle of thin yellow ropes tucked into his belt and hands you one to peace-bond your sword. "You didn't hear this from me, but... if adventure is what you're looking for (though I advise against it, hear me) may-hap you should pay the Diamond a visit. They have a wall that they post odd-jobs on that require the various talents that you ne'er-do-wells have..." he pauses in thought... "In fact there's a report of a mean-as-cuss boar to the East, past the docks a ways, what's been a menace to everyone traveling that way. Not that I care, but... it's only a matter of time before one of us gets dispatched to take care of the situation. There might be a bounty on it." he turns more of his attention to the shakedown as the "poor merchant" attempts to flee. "Don't get yourself mauled, though. I hear it's pretty big." He jerks a thumb that you can enter if you care to before moving over to assist his companions with subduing the offender... just as they tear a few hidden bandoleers carrying something of obvious interest from under his robes... Last edited by mad_gondsman; 07-04-2011 at 01:18 PM. Reason: Typos. Grr.
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#7
07-04-2011, 03:11 PM
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Neroth attached the yellow peace-bond cord to the hilt of his longsword and easily unclipped the string from his bow before stepping through the gate. After spending so much of the last months in the company of a few elves, the city seemed crowded, noisy, and well... human. Nary an elf, dwarf, or halfling were in sight.
Making his way up the main thoroughfare, his senses were assaulted by the smells of the city and its many offerings. He stopped by the Ranger's Roost to Can't hurt to haggle bit (Diplomacy +1): Dice Roll:
He then made his way to the Is this a tavern or a guild or just a shop?Diamond to check out the notice board and to A Gather Information (+1) check should do: Dice Roll:
Last edited by myorke; 07-04-2011 at 04:18 PM.
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#8
07-04-2011, 11:21 PM
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By your pleasant conversation with the guardsman at the gate, you get little more than a nod as you pass through the thick brown walls and onto the uneven paving stones that line the streets within. A short line of out-of-towners assemble at a guardhouse to pay their way into the city, some of them casting nasty glances your way for your passing freely without offering gold for the privilege.
__________________Your senses are assaulted (there is no other word for it) as you make your way down the main thoroughfare as instructed, stepping over the cold puddles of brackish fluids that gather at the sides of the streets exactly where the pedestrians make their way. The buildings are as drab as the exterior walls and the peoples' clothing are even plainer. The men and women that you meet drudge along, heads down and shoulders slumped, saying nothing as they move from point A to point B. The most color you see is the plumage atop the helms of those entrusted with the city's security. Your pulse may quicken at the sight of them, but they take no notice of you as they make their rounds. True to the guard's word, you find the Ranger's Roost... a small, quiet establishment with a dark interior where a handful of grizzled frontiersmen lounge about, enjoying their pipes and the warmth. An assortment of game trophies hang upon the walls, ranging from antlers to a giant Gar, to a small wyvern's scaly head. There are plenty of rooms available as the roads (and ships) coming in to Hillsfar have not quite opened up completely... so you manage to talk the proprietor into letting you rent a larger room for the standard price until the thaw. The Diamond, or the It could be considered a little of all three, actually!Diamond in the Dung as it is humorously named, turns out to be a much larger, louder tavern that happens to offer room and board. The blackened rafters loom high overhead with railed walkways ringing the walls for many feet up, doors dotting the way. By the looks of it, there would be little reprieve from the evening merry-making in what must be very tiny rooms... and you are grateful for having secured better than the Diamond offers. Lanterns provide illumination where the sun fails to reach, the multi-colored flames dancing upon the wicks as a breeze circulates within, bringing with it the aromas of the kitchen. If you wondered where the personality and imagination of the town had disappeared to, this appears to be it. There is perhaps more variety here than you've seen for many years in or around Hillsfar... what look to be Sembian merchants with their gold earrings and their extravagant, colorful clothing, a few warriors with tied weapons, and even a Red Wizard and his entourage if you aren't mistaken, but who else in their right minds would wear red robes in these parts? You pause for a bit longer by the door, scanning the many hand-written notices for work within the city, finding near the bottom a notice regarding this "monstrous boar" that sacked a wagon and lamed its owner... Inquiring at the bar, as the note instructs, you hear that the man that posted the note is staying there at the Diamond but happens to be out at the moment to find a healer to treat his aches. The barkeep vouches for the fellow, mentioning that he pays his tab on time and doesn't make too much of a fuss. He doesn't know what the man lost and it doesn't exactly say how much the reward will be, but he offers a drink on the house if you want to relax a bit. He mentions that you look as if you've been out for a while, making small talk about the weather and this and that as he goes about his chores. There is no shortage of work if the board is any indication. Orc deserters, formerly under the employ of the Zhentarim, have been raiding the farms around Yulash. An owlbear has been terrorizing a cattle ranch settled outside of the walls, closer to the woods to the South. The local alchemist and specialized craftsmen are offering gold (or services) for retrieving rare components and raw materials. There are dozens more of such announcements, but perhaps the most shocking is the bounty on any elves that any woodsmen may see within Cormanthor... You may still be wondering over such a shocking announcement when a slight, white-haired, hawkish, clean shaven man of middling years enters, leaning heavily upon a crutch. He is dressed plainly with a long woolen coat and a patched cloak that has seen better days. He nods and offers a faint smile through the grimace as he limps his way to the bar... This must be the man.
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#9
07-05-2011, 11:11 AM
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"Good day to you sir. My name is Neroth and I am an experienced hunter who knows well the region around the city. Pray tell me what happened with this boar upon the road and I will endeavour to dispatch this beast and retrieve your goods." Neroth decided not to press his luck with the injured man, but wondered aloud what the expected remuneration would be.
Neroth pressed the man for sufficient information about the wagon, its contents, and the boar. Provided that nothing seemed amiss, he stowed his non-essential gear at the room at the Ranger's Roost and proceeded to the scene of the attack to Track check (Survival +6): Dice Roll:
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#10
07-05-2011, 12:01 PM
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The man behind the bar greets the newcomer jovially, expressing his dismay that the healers were yet again unable to do anything for him. "That's a shame. You didn't by chance chat with a Pain Maiden again, did you?" he asks in jest but stops when the man shows obvious pain in sitting.
__________________"Maybe I did and didn't realize it." he says as he eases himself into a seat at one of the tables and motions you to join him. He looks about the room, waiting for people's attention to go back to their drinks or their food before he speaks very much. After a little small talk to break the ice, the man reveals that he answers to "Cid" and he was on his way from the docks to conduct some business in Elventree when he was waylaid by the beast. He seems perfectly content that you do not press him for details of his business, in fact thanking you for your discretion in the matter. "I lost nearly everything I own, down there. I dare hope that any of it remains with all of the brigands running about, but what concerns me most is my cargo." he lowers his voice, here. "Particularly a small lock-box and scroll-tube located in a hidden compartment underneath the bench." His face contorts in pain as he shifts his leg. "I would not have left it but some good-hearted fellows, if none-too-bright, found me unconscious by the road and brought me here, leaving it all behind. I care not what you do with the beast or if you deal with it at all. I leave that to you. My only concern is what we spoke of." He orders a plate of food and when it is delivered, your stomach growls ferociously. You are suddenly reminded that you just spent an entire winter living outdoors, your only sustenance coming from pine needles, lichen, and admittedly surprisingly palatable beetles. While in the wilds, it did not seem so bad but now that you are here... and this job may take you longer than you have daylight. "How does five hundred gold sound? Upon their return." he proposes quietly, chuckling when your stomach roars. "That should last a man like you for quite some time. You don't look as if you've enjoyed many luxuries for a while." Cid remarks, looking you over before re-situating his crutches on the far chair and digging into his meal. Last edited by mad_gondsman; 07-05-2011 at 12:23 PM. Reason: I rarely get everything in one pass...
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#11
07-05-2011, 10:45 PM
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Neroth does a quick check of himself to ensure he doesn't seem overly eager. Five hundred gold would certainly go a long way at this point, all for merely tackling a boar and retrieving a few items. The more he thinks about it though, the more he wonders what could be in the lock-box and scroll-tube. "Pick your battles," he thinks to himself. "This man has not given you any reason to suspect anything untoward."
Neroth leans back in his chair, his stomach offering no new opinion on the matter at hand, and takes a long hard look at the wiry man before him. He reflects for a moment and knows that he, too, has his secrets to hide, so he decides that Cid is trustworthy enough. "You have a deal, Cid. Shall I find you here when I return?" He considers the man's condition, looking at the bead of sweat on the man's brow, whether from the strain of his injury or feverishness, Neroth is not quite sure. "Or perhaps I'll just ask the barkeep... you should be resting and perhaps seeking some more healing."
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#12
07-06-2011, 12:15 PM
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"Aye, I won't be going far." he says wryly. "Be careful, hear me? That thing is a monster. If you go it alone, I wouldn't think of taking it on." he finishes, sitting back and taking a deep breath to steady himself against what must be another wave of pain.
__________________"You're right, I do need some rest..." he says, ignoring the bit about the healing. "Though I don't think I'll be getting much sleep, per se..." he says, grimacing as he reaches for his crutches and gets to his feet with no shortage of huffing and puffing. The man at the bar helps him to his room, which is thankfully on the first floor, and you collect your things after finishing your business to leave. On your way out, a couple of Red Plumes step through the door and stare about as if looking for something in particular. Your pulse quickens but even as they look you straight in the eye, they move clear of the door so you may exit... On your way out of the city, you hear a couple of grouchy women complaining about the state of affairs in the city, particularly how the sewers are backing up into the street. They curse the Guild of Sanitation with words that would shock a Moonsea Pirate as you pass and step through the massive gates once more. The fresh air is a welcome change to the smell of animals, mildew and whatever was collecting in the gutters. You make your way past the cluster of buildings that surround the docks, setting a good pace down the roads that head east. Although the sun is high in the sky, water from the thaw still manages to collect and freeze upon the road but it slows you little and after maybe an hour of making good time, Hillsfar disappears behind the horizon behind you and you find yourself alone out on the flat, snow-covered plain. One advantage to the flat terrain is that you quickly spy a gathering of ravens circling and jostling each other about the wreckage of a wide, single-axl wagon turned over on its side, icicles hanging from the one smashed wheel. As you approach, a stiff breeze from the East brings with it the stench of rot and decay...
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#13
07-06-2011, 04:31 PM
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Neroth recognizes the smell of rot and decay for what it is: information. Information on wind speed and direction, distance to some piece of carrion, intervening obstacles, and so forth. Crouching down, he quickly returns to the role of the hunter, remembering the various new tricks he learned from the lightfooted elves. Obviously, he was already downwind from the source of the smell, thinking that old Cid didn't leave behind enough of his leg to create that sort of smell... could it be his cargo rotting in the late winter sunshine? Or something worse?
Ensuring that his sword is firmly in its scabbard, he unshoulders his finely crafted bow and draws an arrow. He takes another strong sniff of the pungent air and waits for his pulse to slow, As a hunter, he takes his time to soak it in: Spot (+8) Dice Roll:
Dice Roll:
Dice Roll:
He patiently waits for a few minutes before crossing the distance to the broken wagon.
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#14
07-07-2011, 09:45 AM
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You assume a lower profile and wait patiently, observing your surroundings for signs of activity and listening for anything that may tip you off of an ambush or a surprise. After several moments, however, you hear nothing but the scratching and caws of the ravens as they hop about the wagon's wreckage, paying you little mind as they dine on whatever is producing the stench...
__________________As you survey the ground, you do find a bit of a surprise, however... in addition to the beast, you also find diminutive little tracks criss-crossing all about the area. Goblins. As you approach the wagon, a particularly large raven hops upon the upturned wheel of the capsized wagon and fixes you with a sparkling eye. It takes you a moment to process exactly what it is that makes this raven unusual... then you catch a totem of sorts on one of its legs... You know enough about sorcery to recognize that this particular raven is probably a pet or a familiar to someone or something... Last edited by mad_gondsman; 07-07-2011 at 09:53 AM. Reason: Forgot a detail... I've an itchy edit-finger.
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#15
07-07-2011, 11:35 AM
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"Move along, raven. There's nothing to see here." Neroth shoos the raven, well aware that he is being monitored by someone or something from afar. He returns the arrow to his quiver and shoulders his bow, drawing his longsword for both his protection and as a prying device. Knowing that there is a hidden compartment on the wagon somewhere near the seat, he Search (+5):
Dice Roll:
Digging around the wagon, he still monitors his surroundings, keeping an eye for any movement around the area. Neroth wonders just what is the source of the smell, fearful that other nasty beasts might be drawn in as well.
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