[Game Thread] Prologue: Unwelcome Spirits

[ForeverDM]

OOC:Before We Begin Welcome Adventurers! I would like to thank all of you for taking interest and being part of this campaign! It means a lot to have people who are willing to put their time, effort, and creativity toward something that I am running and writing. Your characters, backstories, and imaginations have already made me excited to see where this epic journey leads, and I hope the same goes for you as well! But enough from me! It is time to get started! So, without further adieu, I present to you…

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A Call to Adventure Current Date, Location, Region, and Weather Date Miresen, 10th of Sydenstar, 833 PD   Location Urzin   Region Brokenveil Marsh, Wastes of Xhorhas   Weather Sunny and mostly clear, 74°F/23°C   OOC: Mood Music Here is some mood music to start your journey! To say that the Brokenveil Marsh is unpleasant to traverse would be a definite understatement. The soil of the swamp has a tar-like consistency, heavier strides sinking three to four inches with each pace, caking boots and the bottom hems of pants alike. Footprints quickly fill with brackish water, the mud expanding like a dampened sponge to take its form back to a deep brown surface. Dense formations of trees speckled with an assortment of moss, fungus, and small insect dens surround the boggy landscape, the roots of which are exposed above the wet earth. The canopy provides splotches of sunlight from above, a disorganized array of shaded areas and brighter patches that constantly require the eyes of wanderers to adjust. The large looming cypress trees with their dead wispy foliage grants no relief to the unsettling atmosphere present within the marsh. The scents of the swampy expanse range from mildew throughout the waters and foliage to offal from the inhabiting creatures, and the air is heightened in its humidity, causing the smells to be exacerbated. Vexatious buzzing fills the air here - the sound of a million and one insects of all different types going about their business. Some simply look to preserve their eggs in still puddles of grimey water, while others actively sought out warm blooded prey to feast upon, nearly microscopically. Yet the sound of these insects was drowned out by a series of other cacophonous and echoing noises. A series of what could only be assumed as massive footfalls reverberated through the marsh, each one impactful enough to send slight tremors through the ground. Simultaneously, the sounds of birds escaping their nests into the daytime sky filled the air, spooked by whatever was causing this commotion. In between the titanic steps, voices could be made out floating in the air and intermingling with one another, which would have been a synonymous sound to the swarms of insects, if not for it being a mix of tones and pitches - which hit your ears from seemingly all directions. Indeed, you have all traveled rather far to get here in one way or another. Perhaps a venture from the Menagerie Coast was your ambition, and traveling through the Dwendalian Empire was the most efficient course of action. Maybe a naval voyage had taken place to bring you from a distant place, and you landed in Jigow, a coastal community on the northern bank of the Ifolon River. Or perhaps you are and have been a denizen of Xhorhas, and the call of a piece of parchment on a notice board caught your attention, hoping for easy gold and rewards. Regardless of how you have arrived within the Brokenveil Marsh, the dried crackling mud on your boots and legs is testimony to the long journey you undertook. The sounds grew louder as you approached and progressed through the swamp. There are many dangers here - whether beast, environment, or man. Sinkholes in the ground could open up at any moment with the weight of your steps, large crocodiles could jump out of deeper pools of water, or swarms of insects could decide that a tasty meal was in the form of traveling adventurers. Not to mention the active patrols of guards from Fort Venture nearby, or the roving bands of ghouls that are said to reside in the marsh. Your senses were always being tested in this place, and your adrenaline spiked with each new sound that forced your ears to perk up. This all culminated in a wave of relief as you were spotted by groups of guards within the swamp, who ordered you to halt where you stood. For some of you, the sight of goblinoids was surprising, if not unnerving. The guards traveled and patrolled in medium sized units, consisting mostly of ordinary goblins, but looking to be commanded by either bugbears or hobgoblins, with a smattering of ogres nearby. The noise of the massive footfalls shook both the ground and your eardrums now; whatever it was - it was close. The patrol asked for your business here, and after showing them the summons that were posted, they became less guarded in your presence. With one of the commanding members of the guard breaking off a segment of their patrol, they instructed you to follow them forward and stay in step with the escort provided. Guiding you ahead, every twenty paces you took had another loud BOOM! coincide with your own step. The goblinkin looked unphased by the loud noise, and while moving past a thicket, you could see the enormous cleared trail of tree stumps and flattened mud, leading up to a truly massive and spectacular sight before you. You have made it to the mobile settlement of Urzin. How this gigantic construct of a town (or some would say city) even functioned is beyond simple comprehension. Nearly forty giant tortoise-like creatures form a platoon-like, multi-layered circle that moves slowly in step, their shells stacked with an odd variety of platforms, shacks, stalls, tents, and shops. The tortoises are known throughout Wildemount as Horizonbacks, and though they are omnivores with a penchant for plants, and mostly unmoving in the wilds, this large group instilled a different level of both fear and awe. Each of the creatures are nearly fifty feet long, tall enough to resemble moving hills, and are coated in thick scales with hardened shell-like plating upon their legs, underbellies, necks, heads, and tails. The giant shells upon their reptilian forms are thick and dark, contrasting with the oranges, light browns, and greens of their scales. The conglomeration of sounds that were heard on your initial approach had a source now, as you could see the hundreds of forms moving as ants do on their hills upon the structures of Urzin. Multiple wooden bridges in various conditions line the open air gaps between the tortoises, some swinging more haphazardly than others while the Horizonbacks continued their trek forward. There are stories of these tortoises being used in battle by the Kryn Dynasty, and the thought of them pushing forward offensively with such infrastructure and numbers is a daunting fantasy to ponder on. Whatever daily business that takes place within this community is currently booming, and there is nary a viewpoint where activity could not be seen. Each of the gargantuan creatures has a different style of architecture built upon its foundation, with a singular tortoise in the center of the formation housing the tallest and most garish edifice of them all. A singular, massive tower-like building that had to be nearly sixty feet tall, with smaller offshoot structures built around it. It was a wonder that these tortoises, for as big as they are, could withstand the amount of weight put upon them, but they seemed unperturbed, carrying on with innate perseverance. The escort that brought you closer pointed out the ladders that hang from the Horizonbacks around the outside of the layered perimeter, swaying chaotically behind their back legs. Leading you forward to the bottom of them, they motioned for you to climb up, which was a rather difficult task while the creatures continued their gait. Nevertheless, you managed to slowly find your way upwards into the bustling and tiered “town” that you successfully located. As you find your footing upon an overhanging wooden platform, you are stared at by a number of the town’s denizens. They go about their business, but seem wary of the newcomers that are climbing aboard the massive and mighty marauders. A small contingent of gnolls, numbering four to six, approach you on the platform. "Ha! Haha! Welcomes, grrr-eat traveler, to Urzin!" The one in front of the entourage speaks in a high-pitched, seemingly rehearsed fashion, his body twitching uncontrollably as he addresses you, and his eyes darting about your form. "What, ha! What bring yous here?" He asks, the other gnolls behind him looking off the platform toward the ground forces that march in step with the town. Showing him the parchment with the summons to Ogre Lord Buhfall II, his eyes widened further, which would have been deemed impossible not ten seconds previous. "Ah, ha! Good! Comes for the job! Ogre Lord will be happies! I brings you to tavern where you stay, yes? Across this way! I gives good tour!"He pants excitedly, his tongue sticking from the side of his sharply-toothed snout. He beckons you to follow him, and the rest of the gnolls trail behind by only a couple of paces, their foul smelling breath wafting toward your nostrils, albeit drowned out by the number of other smells in the vicinity. Though the construction of the buildings was lackluster at best, and dangerously clumsy at worst, walking through Urzin was an experience unlike any other. Activities ranging from friendly trades to violent bargaining were taking place nearby and all around. Goblins run through the “streets” of this settlement, climbing up to higher elevation, or swinging from ropes that lead to lower levels. There is the scent of fresh meat, rotten meat, and herbs of all different kinds that float through the air here, and the wooden platforms you stand upon almost all have a sticky texture over the thin layer of moss that has taken residence. You are led by the group of gnolls to one of the swaying wooden bridges, and the leader turns toward you, handing you an end length of rope. "Here! Ha! You takes! Ties to yous! No fall!" He shouts out quickly over the numerous sounds that are intermingling around you. Tying it to your form, you continue on with the gnolls across the bridge, toward the second ring of Horizonbacks that make up the entirety of Urzin. With each colossal step, the bridge sways in the air, and your grip on the hempen rails tightens in apprehension of a serious fall. While you cross, you can see goblin children hanging from other bridges around the area, shouting out in glee as they sway, playing a game that is entirely normal to them. Eventually, you make it to the other side and can’t help but exhale the held breath from your chest. Removing the rope from you, the lead gnoll continues on and walks up a narrow, rickety set of stairs to an upper escarpment. Following behind, you now find yourself in front of a large building that seems to jut out quite a bit further than the ones below it atop this tortoise shell. The structure has wood paneling that overlaps in different directions, as if there were intentions to fix damages, but the execution lacked expertise. The door was slightly knocked off its top hinge, and was swinging gently with each movement that the tortoise made. There is an overhang above the door, and a sign hanging from it, the words ”Shelly’s Shellter” crudely carved into an almost octagonally cut chunk of wood. "Yous stay heres! Ha! Yes!" The voice of the gnoll calls out behind you. "We’s comes get you when Ogre Lord ready! Wait fors the others to comes!" He begins to walk away with his group, leaving you to your own devices, before spinning back around. "Oh, I forgets! I is Dumprot, assistants to Ogre Lord. He paids for your stays here at Shelly’s!" He stated, giving the best gnoll bow a gnoll could provide. He then left with his group, one of them sniffing in your direction before giving a slight throat growl and continuing along. The interior of Shelly’s Shellter was about as quaint as its exterior. Tables and chairs were lopsided or toppled, and the lamps that adorn the ceilings sway about loosely as the Horizonback moves. An older looking hobgoblin mans the establishment, currently wiping some grimy looking glasses with an old rag. It looks like this place would have seen better days - if there were any to be had for it. The hobgoblin looks over as you enter, raising an eyebrow and setting the glass down. "Well ain’t you just a fish outta water here! What can I do for ya? Better hurry up - I got a long line!" He exclaims, while motioning toward the entirely empty establishment. As you show him the same piece of parchment that got you onto this moving fire hazard of a town, he nods. "Well, I’ll be…Came to help Ogre Lord Buhfall II, huh? He paid for your stay here, and as much as ya want to drink for the evening. So…what will you be havin’?" A Sight of New Beginnings The raven peers toward northwestern Wynandir, through the treetops and into the marsh. The large forms of creatures push through the bogland, shifting the ground and foliage like paper in the wind. Destinies are intertwined and set along a path riddled with answers to questions that have yet to be posed. With a loud caw, the black bird spins in the air and heads to its next destination. Like the seasons, change is coming. Whether it be for better or worse will be shown along the path that is walked. With this knowledge, the raven flies ever onward, into the unknown with passion and curiosity ever growing.

OOC And so we begin. Please describe your approach, navigation, and arrival at the tavern, as well as what others would see as they look upon your character. We are going under the assumption that the first to post is the first to enter the building, and the others will be arriving in the same fashion, one after another, with an hour or two between. Once again, thank you for being here, and I look forward to our adventure! Huzzah!

[hafrogman]

Argus Varak, Student of the Five Metal Path It had been two days since Argus, Last Scion of House Varak, Devotee of the Five-Metal Path, arrived at Urzin. Or perhaps it was better to say that Urzin arrived at Argus. Led astray by an ill-intentioned 'guide', the young nobleman had been lost in the Brokenveil Marsh for quite some time before the rhythmic booming that heralded the arrival of the gigantic Horizonbacks reached his ears. A barely tied-together shanty down suspended above the mire on tortoise shell was not exactly his idea of luxury accommodations, but he was feeling quite sorry for himself. So, despite his rapidly dwindling funds, he elected to remain in Urzin for a few days while he regrouped and reassessed. When he had set out from Feolinn well over a month ago, prospects had seemed much brighter. He had three retainers with him, one each in charge of his luggage, cooking and personal care. He arranged transportation from each town to the next, relaxing in a wagon or coach, wending his way across Wildemount. But the funds required for such a journey had been badly underestimated, and before long he'd had to release the retainers one by one, then start relying on his own feet for locomotion, scrimping and saving his coin for supplies and increasingly low-rent lodgings. Sometimes he ended up sleeping out under the stars, a beautiful, but highly uncomfortable experience. His arrival at the pass across the Ashkeeper Peaks had brought with it a renewed sense of purpose and hope. Truth be told, many miles still lay before him, but he had reached the edge of Xhorhas and his destination was in (metaphorical) sight! Even better, he had found a guide willing to assist him through the swamps that lay at the base of the eastern slopes. Despite her somewhat frightful appearance, Shan had proven a welcome companion, regaling Argus with amusing tales as they journeyed together. He had grown reasonably fond of the half-orc by the time she tried to rob him, failed, then abandoned him for dead in the middle of this gods forsaken bog! But I digress. Argus looked down at the copy of the notice he had found the day before. It felt terribly beneath him somehow to be taking mercenary work in exchange for coin... a dishonor to both his house's name and his master's teachings. But two-hundred and seventy gold pieces would go a long way towards funding the rest of his trip. He was nearer his destination than home now, no turning back. Forward was the only way. When he showed the parchment to Dumprot (as he would later learn the gnoll's name to be), the young draconblood was quickly escorted through town, drawing several curious glances wherever he went. He had spent much of his time up until now in quiet reflection (sulking). So for many Urzinians, this was their first time seeing the silver dragonborn pass them by. Dumprot left Argus there at the door to a rather dubious looking establishment. Dubious, that is, by Argus's standards. By Urzin standards, this was probably the height of opulence, having actual walls and a ceiling as it did. As Argus waved his own gracious farewells to the gnoll, 'assistants to Ogre Lord', something Dumprot had just said lodged sharply in the dragonborn's mind. 'Others'? What did he mean 'others'? It was too late to ask the rapidly retreating figure, and Argus had no particular desire to openly air his ignorance of this whole process. Would he need to interview for this job? Begging for work like a common laborer? Or would there be a negotiation, a bidding war? Would others try to undercut him? Or were they all expected to try and find this missing counselor at the same time, first one back to earn the reward? Or would he have to work together with someone else and... split the reward? Surely not... two-hundred and seventy gold was such a paltry sum, he could not be expected to do this task for half that... or less, could he? With such thoughts eating away at his mind, Argus took stock of the tavern's interior and its proprietor. His lodging and drinks were paid for? Well... that was something at least. He lacked the courage to ask the hobgoblin for a Bloody Mary, though. Not that he would trust any tomato that might grow in this swamp. Wine? Surely they'd have some form of wine though, yes? But would it be any good? After a quick glance at the dirty glasses, he settled for ordering something strong enough to kill anything living in the dubious vessels. Drink in hand, Argus righted a table and chair in one corner and carefully settled down, lest the whole arrangement collapse once more. He slumped there, utterly demoralized, his sapphire blue eyes half hooded. Here sat a young dragonborn, from his long, curving tail, he was clearly one of the erstwhile noble draconblood lineage. He was tall, by most standards, but short for one of his kind... and whipcord lean. He wore what had once clearly a sumptuous robe of deep crimson brocade, with filigree embroidery, but his time in the marshlands had clearly taken its toll. Stitching was coming loose all over, and while he had done his best to clear the actual muck and mud from the hem, the water stains remained. But despite his downtrodden demeanor and somewhat ragged garments, his scales were immaculate silver, gleaming with a brightness that few things in this town could achieve, let alone maintain for any length of time. He has clearly spent some time polishing them recently.

OOC   Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action:   Stat Block Argus Varak | Dragonborn (Metallic) | Monk | Level 1 HP: 9/9 | AC: unarmored defense16 | PP: 13 | Initiative: +3 | Speed: 30ft | Luck Points: 5 Stats: Str 12 (+1), Dex 17 (+3), Con 13 (+1), Int 12 (+1), Wis 16 (+3), Cha 14 (+2) Saves: Str +3 | Dex +5 Attacks: Attack +5 ; 1d6+3 piercing damageShortsword, Attack +5 ; 1d4+3 piercing damage; Range 20/60Dart, Attack +5 ; 1d4+3 bludgeoning damageUnarmed Strike Skills: Acrobatics +5 | Athletics +3 | History +3 | Persuasion +4 Languages: Common, Draconic, Elvish, Marquesian Relevant Equipment: Shortsword, Darts (10) Silver - ColdMetallic Ancestry | You have resistance to the damage type associated with your Metallic Ancestry.Draconic Resistance | Feature: Thanks to your noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are. The common folk make every effort to accommodate you and avoid your displeasure, and other people of high birth treat you as a member of the same social sphere. You can secure an audience with a local noble if you need to.Position of Privilege | While you are wearing no armor and not wielding a shield, your AC equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Wisdom modifier.Unarmored Defense | You gain the following benefits while you are unarmed or wielding only monk weapons and you aren’t wearing armor or wielding a shield:[list][*]You can use Dexterity instead of Strength for the attack and damage rolls of your unarmed strikes and monk weapons.[*]You can roll a d4 in place of the normal damage of your unarmed strike or monk weapon. This die changes as you gain monk levels, as shown in the Martial Arts column of the Monk table.[*]When you use the Attack action with an unarmed strike or a monk weapon on your turn, you can make one unarmed strike as a bonus action.Martial Arts (1d4) | Feat: Gift of the Chromatic Dragon   Powers and Abilities Dragonborn When you take the Attack action on your turn, you can replace one attack with a 15 ft. cone breath weapon. Each creature must make a DEX save taking 1d10 cold damage on a fail or half as much on a success.Breath Weapon (DC11) [ ][ ] Gift of the Metallic Dragon You learn the cure wounds spell. Once per long rest, you can cast it without expending a spell slot. You can also cast it using any spell slots you have. Your spellcasting ability for this spell is Wisdom.Draconic Healing [ ] When you or another creature you can see within 5 ft. of you is hit by an attack, you can use your reaction to grant a +2 bonus to the target's AC against that attack roll, potentially causing it to miss. You can use this reaction 2 times per long rest.Protective Wings [ ][ ]

[ihinka]

Once more, with feeling! "C'mon, ya old grump! I'm pushing here, so bloody pull! Show me ye've earned yer name!" At this point in time Nissa was considering the wisdom, or rather, the foolishness of trying to get to Urzin on a mule-pulled wagon. While there was a lot of pulling and pushing going on, they were pretty much motionless. Poor ol' Tobby was knee-high in gunk. The wagon wasn't fairing any better. And Nissa? With every movement Nissa feared losing a boot as the swamp refused to yield the clothing article upon any attempts on her part to free her feet of its greedy, slimy grasp. Her head, topped with shaggy strands of pale, almost translucent platinum gold, thumped on the back of the wagon. "I wish I was back in Rexxentrum!" She whined pitifully. Her mind invoking visions of a particular, alluring and mysterious Cobalt Soul archivist. An all-knowing snort answered her from the front. "What?! No! I do not!" The svirfneblin denied vehemently, jostling the back of the wagon. Her efforts growing more jerky and ineffective with her embarrassment. The silence from the front was like a condescending pat on the head that one would be prone to slap away in righteous frustration. "I. Do. Not!" Nissa growled out each word, accompanying them with a hearty shove at the back of the wagon. "Now pull, you mean old thing, or I'll have ya made into jerky!" Oh, the threat was moot. Nissa knew it. Tobby knew it. He was family by this point. Nevertheless he was honor-bound to respond in kind. And so, in a titanic effort, the haggard mule wrestled a hind leg from the swamp and used it to give the cart a ginger kick. This jostled the wagon enough to shove Nissa out of balance and straight into the swamp. Where she landed with a splash and a shriek. "I hate you!" She whine-groused straining forward, her petite gnomish frame only allowing her to scratch at the back of the cart with her fingernails. The mighty struggle went on for a moment. Two. And then three. All the while Tobby was waiting unperdurbedly at the front of the wagon. His scraggly tail swishing this way and that to drive away the plethora of swamp insects. At long last Nissa's hands found purchase on the wagon and she gave one hearty pull, the swamp begrudgingly releasing her with a wet, sucking noise, from its embrace. "You know I'm gonna get you back for this!" Nissa threatened. An indifferent snort was her only response. The tiny blond sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too, ya meany! Now come on... Once more, with feeling!" The muscles on Nissa's arms bulged with her effort. But she stopped as there appeared to be no corresponding one from the front of the wagon. She was set to give Tobby another round of tongue-lashings when she noticed why he'd made no effort to pull. "Oh, thank the bloody gods!" The svirfniblen muttered, before yelling at the patrol Tobby had apparently spotted. "Oi, over here! Help!" By the time the patrol had reached them Nissa had managed to remove most of the swamp from her hands. Though now her waterskin was wearing most of it. As the patrol guided the now freed Tobby, wagon and Nissa closer and closer to Urzin, she wondered how in the hell were they all getting up there. The sight of the Horizonbacks itself was enough to give anyone pause and wonderment at the same time. Nissa generally felt tiny and insignificant in the sea of tall folk. But this... this pretty much blew her out of existence. And yet, here she was, about to set foot on one such creature. Like flees on a dog's back! Nissa marveled as the patrol led her and Tobby with the wagon, to a ramp contraption thingy, apparently meant to hoist them up to Urzin. Tobby swiveled his head and neighed in abject protest. Nissa gulped in response. She wasn't too far behind him in her trepidation. Though, she bravely managed to resist the urge to cling to his sturdy frame as the platform swung up and up! Nissa had the distinct feeling that showing fear in this neck of the woods would be one step past fatal. So she called upon The Hitchhiker and as it answered, flooding her with adrenaline and creeping rage, she felt strong enough to weather this particular bump in the road. Following the gnoll to their lodgings was only slightly less stressful than the platform ride to get up to Urzin. The urge to crawl over the rope bridge, instead of walking tall across, had been almost crippling. But the fear and discomfort was mingled with a pure and unadulterated marvel at the haphazard ingenuity of this gem of a settlement. By all rights, and the plethora of building code violations, it shouldn't hold together in any way, shape or form. And yet it stood! And not only that, but it swayed and jostled with the movement of its ever-moving platforms. By the time they reached Shelly’s Shellter Nissa had shed most of her discomfort and anxiety over the precariousness nature of moving through the town. The same could hardly be said about Tobby. But the mean old bastard was a good sport about it. The departure of their guide, Dumbport, was signaled by a sniff and a growl from one of the gnolls in his posse. Nissa felt The Hitchhiker bristle at this and promptly pressed her lips to prevent what she knew was coming. Alas, this only served to make the answering growl, that escaped through one corner of her tightly pressed lips, even more ominous. You are so gonna get us into trouble! Nissa chastised him as she scuttled to situate Tobby in the side ally of Shelly’s Shellter, before entering in a rush. *** "... Better hurry up - I got a long line! ...So…what will you be havin’?" At Shelly's, presumably, greeting, Nissa hazarded a glance around the place. Her eyes fell on the silvery dragonborn, slumped at a table in one corner. Is he sleeping? Drunk? Both? He looked oddly bedraggled and polished at the same time. The tiny blond shifted her gaze back to the proprietor, one eyebrow arched. "Far be it for me to delay yer line of... one! Mead!" Nissa shot out her snarky remark and declared her order in one breath. She approached the bar's counter and stared at it in resigned disdain as it stood tall and uncaring. The stroll through Urzin had robbed Nissa's outfit out of some of the swamp's remnants. So whatever muck she tracked into Shelly's place was, hopefully, negligible. With a grunt, a pull, and a flop, Nissa positioned herself on one of the high-stools. "I have a cart and mule parked in the alley next to yer place. D'ye recon ye can spare some water and feed so I can sort him out? Clean the swamp from him and the cart some." Then lowering herself over the counter-top, Nissa whispered to Shelly. "Should I be worried 'bout 'im? He gonna give me any trouble?" She motioned with her head in the direction of the slumped dragonborn.

OOC   Movement: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Blood Curse of the Eyeless Interaction: Notes:

Character Details   Name: Nissa Daergel Race: Svirfneblin (Deep Gnome) - You have advantage on all Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws against magic.Gnome Cunning, Your darkvision has a radius of 120 feet.Superior Darkvision, You have advantage on Dexterity (Stealth) checks to hide in rocky terrain.Stone Camouflage Class: Blood Hunter 1 - You have advantage on Wisdom (Survival) checks to track fey, fiends, or undead, and you have advantage on Intelligence ability checks to recall information about them. Hemocraft Modifier: Wisdom Your Hemocraft DC is 13.Hunter’s Bane, You can invoke a blood curse 1/per short rest. Before it affects the target, you can choose to amplify the curse. An amplified curse gains an additional effect noted in the curse's description. Amplifying a curse causes you to take 1d4 points of necrotic damage that cannot be reduced in any way. Creatures that don't have blood in their bodies are immune to blood curses, unless the curse has been amplified.Blood Maledict Background: Savvy Trader You have spent your life on the roads, carrying the things people want through war zones, storms, and raider attacks. Empty wagons earn no profit, so you are adept at finding buyers for whatever goods you carry and securing new cargo for the return trip. You can always find a buyer for any sort of item, even contraband, as long as you are in a settlement. Likewise, you have a network of contacts who can locate fantastic treasures for the right price. Magical items, maps to lost ruins, or rare special materials are all available to you given enough time. Speak with the DM to determine how long it takes to work your contacts and what they require in return for their information and help.Guild Merchant Languages: ServiceableCommon, FluentDwarvish, FluentGnomish, ServiceableUndercommon Proficient Skills: +4Acrobatics, +6Athletics, +5Insight, +2Investigation, +1Persuasion, +5Survival Blood Curses: When a creature you see within 30 ft. of you makes an attack, you can use your reaction to roll 1d4 and subtract the result from the creature's attack roll. You can choose to use this feature after the creature's roll but before the DM determines whether the attack hits or misses. Creatures immune to the Blinded condition are immune to this curse. Amplify. You apply this curse to all of the creature's attacks until the end of its turn, rolling separately for each attack.Blood Curse of the Eyeless   Str Dex Con Int Wis Cha Abilities 18 14 16 11 16 9 Saving Throws +4 +4 +3 +2 +3 -1 AC 14 Init +2 Speed w30 HP 13/13 Hit Dice 1/1 d10 Passive Perception 13 Luck Points 5/5

[Retry]

Enter - Kimmaath Vyufras, the skirmisher known as Duster Art by @Third_Cookie "Y'know, if I had known you would've been taking on a job for ol Buhfall we would've packed heavier!" the squat goblin merchant mused in her native tongue as she ran along a fallen log leaving her travelling companion to trounce in the mud. "I can see it now-" the diminutive woman halted to hold her hands up in a framed gesture "Era Grin's produce! Best in all of Northern Wastes - so says Ogre Lord Buhfall II!~" she held for a moment awaiting a reply. When none came Era looked back to her travelling companion. "Oi! Get a move on! Imma be an old lady before we reach Urzin at this pace!" Trailing behind some fifteen paces or so was a hulking figure squelching through the sinking mud. Standing just over two meters tall and cast in a blanket of tan and copper scales and muscles, Kimmaath felt the fatigue of travel more heavily upon him now than ever before. Wearing a faded blue vest and simple dark trousers caked in the bog's mud the biggest thing that weighted down the dragonborn was the massive sack slung over his shoulder. Bulbous and fit to burst if given the chance, Kimmaath was given the simple task of lugging the wears to sell in town. A simple sounding chore, one that was originally pitched to him as taking place in his home, Jigow; made significantly more difficult from his whimsical friend and client, Era. Two horns protruded out in slight curves from his brow and edges of his jaw line. A large dragonfly landed upon one of the horns to rest in the day's light, undisturbed by the huffing and jostling of the 'beast of burden' it rest upon. "You-" Kimmaath panted, speaking in the same language as his friend "You sure this is the correct way, Era?" "'Course I am sure! Whenever have I been wrong?" Before the bronze-scaled dragonborn could reply proper the rumble through the area provided an answer. An excited gasp escaped the goblin as she left her subordinate once more to dart ahead "C'mon lets go, let's go, let's goooo!" "Era! Wait! I said hold on!!" Kimmaath called attempting to keep up once more. It felt wonderful to unload the sack at the small shack Era planned to sell her wares from. "Are you sure you don't want me to hang around?" the skirmisher inquired "Didn't you hire me for protection?" "Its fiiiiine! I just needed someone to carr- protect me through the wastes was all!~ I gots friends here that can help cover me, go take care of whatever you need from Buhfall quickly! I want to head back to Jigow before next week's competition!" The nomadic town was awe-inspiring and electric in its own way. The goblinkin and sprinkling of ogres were not uncommon for Ki as it was no different than home. The clever yet chaotic bunch made days interesting, exciting, and wholly unpredictable. Quite glad was he that the kind Dumprot was speaking in a matter that he could understand, as his Gnoll-tongue wasn't the best. Who knew that one misplaced yip was a declaration that you would claim them in bed that night. An honest mistake, really! The playing children upon the bridges that spiderwebbed through the air over the shells brought a proper grin to Kimmaath as he was handed the rope. The children swung and screamed and seemed to be having a blast, he was quite jealous! The instructions the gnoll gave fell on deaf ears and as he was crossing the bridge with rope in hand he felt a sudden weight land upon his shoulders. Two small child-like hands grasped his horns "Hey! You're like a wagon with these aren't you?!" the child yelled "No." the dragonborn chuckled "I'm just a norma-" before he could finish the sentence the child jerked the skirmisher's horns to one side throwing off his balance and sending him toppling from the bridge. The rope snapped taunt in his hand, slipping slightly and burning his palm. The child held on to his horns gleefully playfully calling for him to move along. Dumprot looked down from the bridge to see if the dragonborn had become mere paste beneath a horizonback's foot and pointed to the other side. "Move wagon, move!" the child commanded with a few kicks. "Oookay. Hold tight!" the skirmisher instructed before starting his ascent up the rope back to the bridge. Upon arriving at the top the young goblin child scampered off his back and turned to chide the hulking dragonborn "No, no, no, NO! Wagon! You were suppose to swing and jump!" "But-" Kimmaath hardly got a word in before the child stuck out its tongue and ran off. Letting out a deflating sigh, the dragonborn continued on. Ducking slightly beneath the door frame Kimmaath entered into Shell'y Shelter. It was about as good as an establishment as any he had seen in Jigow, or so he believed. A low rumbled from his stomach declared his presence all the more and the skirmisher made his way to the bar. "Mastodon Kor'rundl and Erzfaalyu if you've any!" the dragonborn declared goblin-tongue happily at the prospect of free food and drink and eagerly took a seat at the bar where an unusual woman was whispering to the barkeep. Kimmaath followed the nod over towards the slumped dragonborn, although it wasn't his place to be in such whispered conversation. He hadn't a clue what they were talking about. Yet his gaze lingered a bit longer as it had been ages since he saw a tailed-kin before returning to Nissa and Shelly. Lowering his large head closer to the table Kimmaath inquired "Wha we be whisperin on? He munch all-tha rice down?" not waiting for an answer the ravenite hollered over at the draconblood "Are you blocked up?! I hear some Kinespaji will clear it right up! Like a faucet it would! Be lighter on your feet than you ever been!" Kimmaath turned back to the two "He'll be alright, I'm sure! Name's Kimmaath by the way, how'd you attract so many invisible guest in here, anyways?" OOC   Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: Contingencies: Notes/Rolls: Kimmaath Vyufras Theme Song "Destructive Goodwill" by Daisuke Ishiwatari Level Ravenite Fighter 1 HP: 14/14 | AC: Chain Shirt15 | Speed: 30 ft. | Senses: PP 11 DV:60ft | HD: 1d10 Status: Healthy Feats: Draconic Ancestry - Bronze, Breath weapon (Lightning), Darkvision, Vengeful Assault, Chef, Fighting Style: Unarmed Fighting, Second Wind, Skills: Athletics +6, Insight +3, Performance +4, Survival +3 Tools: Cook's Utensils, Dice Set Languages: Common, Draconic, Goblin, Orcish Combat Equipment: Unarmed Strike [open] (+6 <> 1d8+4 Blud.), Unarmed Strike [armed] (+6 <> 1d6+4 Blud.), Handaxe (+6 <> 1d6+4 Slash), Net (+4 <> -), Breath (DEX 14 <> 2d6 Lightning) Magic Items: - Abilities Str Dex Con Int Wis Cha Score: 18 14 18 12 12 14 Modifier: +4 +2 +4 +1 +1 +2 Saves: +6 +2 +6 +1 +1 +2   As an action once per short rest, exhale in a 5 by 30 ft. line (DEX DC 14, half damage on success) for 2d6 Lightning Damage [6th] 3d6, [11th] 4d6, [16th] 5d6Breath Weapon (Bronze) - [1/1] Once per Short Rest, when you take damage from a creature you can use your reaction to make a counter attack against that creature.Vengeful Assault - [1/1] Once per Short Rest as a Bonus Action, you can regain 1d10+[Fighter Lv] HP.Second Wind - [1/1] You can prepare food that allows creatures to regain additional hit points when taking a short rest as well as gain temporary hit points after a long rest.Chef [limit: 6 creatures for short rest, 2 treats for long]

[Hillsy7]

Dewdrop The mud, thankfully, was quite soft. But it was wet, deep, sticky, and smelled worse than an ogre’s armpit after a hard days labour. With a groan Dewdrop heaved herself out of the deep coffin sized depression in the marsh and flopped onto her back. Some fifty feet above her, the thin plank she’d been hiding on moments before waved cheerily from its one remaining fixing. She lifted her head, saw none of the Horizonbacks were going to tread on her as they continued their miles long arc, and lay back down. All that money wasted: The bribes, the distractions, the lubrication to avoid the snags of unwanted questions, the generosity that numbed curiosity – all of it had been got her safely up to the edge of the Aurora Watch’s compound in this part of Urzin, and but for appalling craftsmanship, would’ve gotten her the perfect vantage point to study it. And now a guard was sticking his head out of the window to inspect what had caused the noise of a snapped board and – “Crap!”Dew squeaked and rolled over, face down, in a ball beneath a mud-caked cloak. ~This….this is disgusting!~ Sabanna said in her head. The tone was half way between nausea and indignation. Dew did her best to ignore the feeling of mud invading her nostrils. ~Stop complaining. You literally can’t feel it.~ Dew hissed back. It was bad enough Sabanna had been yammering nearly the whole time from the moment she’d convinced one of the Watch to have a stern talking with one of the nearby locals who’d “accosted” her so she could slip into an alley and around the compound wall, right up until her fingertips had brushed the window-ledge. In fact Dew thought she might’ve said ‘I told you so’ on the way down after the plank gave way. Now this? ~But I can imagine it. Ugh, it makes my skin crawl just thinking what bugs and worms are in there~ ~I swear, to the Luxon and the light and whatever rebirth there is, I will come in there and I will scratch your - ~ ~Shhh!~ Sabanna snapped, but Dew understood it wasn’t aimed at her exactly. Their senses of each other had become weirdly entangled in some ways. Instead she fell silent and listened. High above, a man’s voice rang out. “Cursed place is falling apart! Part of the wall is coming off!” Dew noted the angle was already further away as the Horizonback stomped ever onwards. “Log it with the quartermaster and they’ll get the workteam to repair it when they come tomorrow” another replied in an officious tone. “But it’s not safe now!” the first replied. “Then don’t lean on it. And if your that worried just stand guard until tomorrow or put up a sign. It’s not like…” Their bickering faded, and with a feeling of huge relief Dew begun a suitably long sigh…….and inhaled half the Brokenveil Marsh. She rolled over, retching and coughing and horrified. “Oh my Gods, it’s in my mouth. I can taste it!” she shrieked aloud. It smelled ten times worse inside her nose and smelled better than it tasted. She rolled onto her hands and knees, hawking up great wads of brown phlegm, racing to expel as much of the swamp before her gorge rose too high. She became aware of a giggling in her head as Sabanna was riding the wave from mirth to complete hysterics. ~Blessed Light, Sabanna? Really? This is amusing?~ Sabanna was already hitching, struggling to speak. ~It’s so funny…..because….because I can’t….can’t taste it. And you can….and…and….and it’s not my problem!~ Dew lost her fight with her stomach and heaved twice. The acid burn and her breakfast did a fine job of clearing out the bogwater, and she slumped over, staring at the wet thatch of the trees above coughing and listening to Sabanna howling with laughter in her mind. Perhaps it was the shock of the fall, the thrill of avoiding detection, or some sort of emotion bleed from Sabanna, but quickly the farcical image of the last few minutes washed over her and her coughs turned into a laughter of her own. They were still laughing a few minutes later as a hobgoblin’s helmeted visage blocked out the dappled light from the, peering curiously down at them. Dew reached up, wiped some of the thick muck from her face, and grinned. “Hi Officer! How can I help you this fine Day?” She said in Goblin, and had to bite her lip to stop giggling. The Hobgoblin looked bemused, and a few other goblin faces appeared in a circle, looked down. “Um. I’d like you to state your business, Miss.” He said slowly. Ah well, Dew suspected it might come to this. But always handy to have a plan B. She reached under her cloak and retrieved a mud soaked leaflet she’d snatched from Asarius before heading here. She thrust it up so it was a few inches from the Hobgoblin’s nose. “Take me to your leader!” The first time Dewdrop had arrived, she’d been clean and operating under the guise of a messenger from a newly minted Duke trying to establish an offshoot from Charis. That persona vanished as she blended into the mosaic of Urzin’s chaotic melting pot of a society for the next few days, scouting the….city?....to establish the Aurora Watch’s presence here and what form it took. Before she set down any kinds of roots here, she needed to know how much danger she was in. And you never knew, there might even be something – anything – here that would shed some light on her and Sabanna’s situation. Maybe the guard was large enough to have its own beacon? She didn’t know. But she’d burned through most of her funds to buy the chance to hide and watch and learn. Now she was standing outside this crumbling pile of nailed planks scraping the last of the mud off her cloak and clothes with a flat stone. She wasn’t clean, but at least she’d stopped dripping. Answering the Ogre Lord’s summons wasn’t her first choice of getting established in Urzin – it had too many responsibilities and obligations to take the take to ensure safety – but with her gold mostly gone, the small reward would allow her to don the guise of Dalania again and gamble her way to a suitable contingency fund if the Children found her again. A booming voice bellowed from inside. Dew couldn’t make out the words but it seemed to contain plenty of exclamation marks. ~Seems like a lovely establishment~ Sabanna said and Dew rolled her eyes. ~The louder it is, the easier to hide. Can you see the Children looking in a place like this?~ She said, and she felt Sabanna’s internal shrug of agreement. ~Besides, you don’t have to taste to booze, remember?~ ~No, but I can imagine.~ Her tone was sharp, but Dew sensed the smile. ~Well, knock yourself out. Just keep an eye out as well ok?~ Dew said and settled her cloak back on her shoulders. She checked her appearance in a water barrel outside: Tall, gangly, young, ears and hair slicked down with mud. One gold eye, one purple. Tense, wired, filthy – nothing like the spoiled, naïve youth people might’ve remembered from in Rosohna. If they were looking for her here. She adjusted the crossbow on her back and walked inside. The room was practically empty and yet dishevelled, as though these three people had just finished a bar fight with a group of ghosts. Amazingly two thirds of the occupants were Dragonborn, and the other a Gnome woman who’d seemed to have taken a similar turn in the swamp as Dewdrop. She caught Kimmaath’s name as she crossed to one of the free stools and piled her collection of long limbs on top of it, beaming brightly. As the Barman crossed over, Dew slid the parchment onto the counter. Soaked in mud and dried, it was as stiff as bark. “Hi! I’m here because of this and I believe that the good Lord’s generosity will benefit us both, Right?” She upped the power of her smile as the Hobgoblin – Shelly she presumed – read the note and informed her exactly how generous Bufhall was being. “What will I be having? Um…..I don’t know the names but – “ ~If you even try and drink the sort of ale they serve here I will scream for the next week. Remember I don’t have to breath!~ Sabanna said. ~It’s not like they have chilled wine, is it?~ Dew snapped ~What about that blue one? Looks fruity?~ When Sabanna sighed, she pointed at a large glass jar on the back wall. “I’ll have a large one of those please. Thankyou!” As Shelly gave her an odd look and went to fetch her drink, Dew leaned on the counter and studied the others there. From what Shelly said, these must also be here for work. Though the slumped silver Dragonborn looked like he’d already been doing a job he hated for the last ten years, the other two looked well-worn and more alert. ~OK, if we’re doing this might as well get some people who’d be happy to save me from the Children if they drag me into an alley~ she said in her mind. ~They’re going to hate you.~ Sabanna replied unhelpfully. Dew rolled her eyes and slid the notice pointedly along the bar until it was directly between the larger Dragonborn and the Gnome, getting their attention. Then interposed herself between them and the bar so they made a tight knot. She beamed at them. “Hi! You must be the others that’re here for Bufhall’s summons, right? I’m DeeDee and your Kimmaath if I pronounced that right. Well met! And please to meet you too. What’s your name?” She slouched back on her elbows just as Shelly returned with her drink. Without looking she nonchalantly swept the wooden cup up and took a large swig. And Immediately regretted everything she’d ever done. OOC   Stat Block Dewdrop Neutral Good Shifter, Level 1 Warlock STR: 10 (+0) | DEX: 18 (+4) |CON: 14 (+2) | INT: 16 (+3) | WIS: 7 (-2**) | CHA: 19 (+4**) HP: 10/10 AC: 15; Initiative: +4; PP: 8 Darkvision: 60 feet. Weapons: +6 to hit, 1d8+4 damageL. Crossbow, +6 to hit, 1d4+4 damage, 20/60 range, finesse, lightDagger Spell Attack Roll: +6 Spell Save DC: 14 Armor: AC 11+4Leather Gear and Items: Proficient Skills: Acrobatics +6 | Arcana +5 | Deception +6 | Investigation +5 | Sleight of Hand +6 Features & Abilities: 1/1 Spell Slots (1st Level) - SR 3/3 Echoes of the Past - SR 1/1 Detect Thoughts (feat) - LR 2/2 Shifting - LR 5/* Luck Points - DM

[Saratek]

Vanerua Galanodel Level 1 Twilight Cleric Leaning her back against a tree, her feet perched on the roots that extended up and over the swamp's murky surface, the Pallid Elf unfolded and studied the rough map she'd been given. Glancing back and forth from it and the direction it led, Van nodded to herself in assurance before haphazardly folding the map up and shoving it into a pocket. Grabbing hold of the hefty stick she'd been using to travel, the elf chose her next step and took that next hop towards Urzin. Feeling the almost rhythmic rumbling in her soles long before she could start to really hear them, Van's drive was unquestionable even as the unknown seemed threatening and dangerous. Leaving the Grove had been, too, and yet that hadn't stopped her nor the thralls of pale elves that had come forth to greet the sun once again. Even as she huddled in the shadows and watched on as the first figures came into view, preceding the massive reptiles upon which a village seemed to ride, the Pallid was not deterred. Even the faces of the goblinoids didn't cause her to hesitate. They weren't the first she'd encountered, and certainly wouldn't be the last. It was only upon first laying sight on these creatures that Van was able to comprehend the scope of the clearing that winded through the Brokenveil, seemingly being the likeliest of paths of the roving city. Eyes casting off to take it in, they returned to the goblinoids at the front. If this was the city she was supposed to seek, there was no use in hiding. Stepping out into the wavering light that broke through the canopy, the guards were quick to engage and double their numbers upon Van's appearance. Looking more like an 'Elf of the Wood' that was either deathly ill or, as was the case, hadn't seen sunlight in decades, Van had answered the guards' order for explanation by reaching into her pocket to produce her map. With her unique appearance, she wasn't surprised when several groups of goblinoids, including at least two ogres, had gathered to be her audience. A hobgoblin, the one that seemed to be in charge, stepped forward as she did to swipe the map from her hands. It didn't even unfold the map completely before handing it back to Van and telling the Pallid to follow. The sheer size of the Horizonbacks was not something anyone could overlook. Van had been unsure how such creatures were able to even mount such a massive reptile until she was led to the ladders extended off the sides of the structures built upon the massive shells. Previous experience quickly led to the conclusion that intelligent races, especially Humans, had always been resourceful and ingenious, so utilizing such massive creatures as a walking armada was certainly not outside the scope of possibility. As impressed she was, the Pallid was more pleased she'd long ago been forced to give up wearing vestments as daily attire, as her current attire wouldn't inhibit such a climb nearly as much. Having started faintly grunting no more than halfway up the long ladder, Van rolled her armor-clad body onto the platform at the top, panting heavily as she started up towards the canopy, her head fell to the side at the voice of the gnoll. Blinking at him, and finding a small sense of relief that this was indeed Urzin, just as the elf had done before, she reached into her cloak to produce the map she'd been given. Much like with the hobgoblin before, the gnoll barely glanced at the paper, after hesitantly taking it, before suddenly recognizing something to leave Van questioning, "Ogre Lord?" as she pushed herself to her feet to follow the quickly-moving band of gnolls. Urzin, despite what made it wholly unique, was quite familiar to Van in how it presented itself. She almost found it welcoming, even if the faces she was seeing were vastly different to what she was accustomed to in such settings. When offered the rope, the elf had initially thought to decline, but the insistence in the lead gnolls eyes left her little choice. Despite easily finding her legs underneath her, the trip across the expansive bridge was not as easy as she had expected, but not difficult either. Upon spotting the children, Van smiled as she remembered her own moments of such enjoyment in more recent times. When the gnolls stopped, and their gazes led Van's to find the sign above the door, she got as far as asking, "Is this where I'm supposed to go?" before the gnoll was quickly explaining why they were there. It only left further questions beyond the identity of the 'Ogre Lord' to include who these supposed 'Others' were. The most confusing thing was that this 'Ogre Lord' had apparently paid for her stay, which, on its own, wasn't terribly unusual for the Pallid Elf, but did beg her to wonder how such a figure could have known she was coming. Van had her theories, but they didn't make sense. The door opened with a whine and was held by an outstretched arm draped in a heavy, dark cloak. The extension allowed the lamplight to betray the blued scale beneath it that encased a much thinner figure than the armor projected. While she carried that general grime that all on the swamps seemed to, her boots were of note for two reasons. The first was that they had been thoroughly knocked and scraped as clean as one could get in such conditions, detailing a person that was accustomed to doing such. The second was that they were of a style much more common on the Menagerie Coast. As the figure stepped into the lamplight allowing the door to swing close, her pale face seemed to almost glow, which was only accented further by her white eyes that seemed to almost glow under the shadow of her hood. Clearly female and a race few could misidentify, she smiled at the hobgoblin bartender with that patented Pallid Elf look of curiosity as she moved towards the bar. At her hip was a sword far from the ships it was often seen, and upon her pack was a shield strapped face-down. With the normal Elvish implements, it certainly was a curious look. Only the eagle-eyed would immediately notice the subtle tattooing that adorned the woman's forehead. The elf's lips pressed together in a smile suppressing a chuckle at the bartender's words. "Yes. Very much so. Maybe I should have stuck to the ports and oceans I'm used to." Reaching into her pocket to retrieve a folded up piece of parchment to offer it to the bartender, the elf replied, "I was told to come here?" in such a way as to display her slight confusion in finding herself in Shelly's Shellter. As the hobgoblin took the paper, he tucked the rag under his arm as he unfolded it and spread it out flat on the bar. Raising a finger to correct the man, the elf recoiled from that plan of action as her gaze caught the parchment, causing her head to tilt to the side as her lips mouthed words. Her white eyes flashed wide as her reserve tried to contain the embarrassment she was feeling. Frowning at her own ignorance, she blinked away the discontent to smile, again, at the hobgoblin, acknowledging that which she'd just now come to realize, "Yes. I've come to help Ogre Lord Buhfall." The back of her 'map' pretty clearly spelled it all out. While mildly surprised by the offered accommodations, she knew better than to refuse such an offer. Dropping her pack to her feet, she took the open stool she'd been standing next to and asked, with a slight hesitation, "You wouldn't happen to have any 'Trost' would you?" As she settled into her seat, the elf turned her head to look down the bar at the collection of others that had found refuge this day within it. While she may have expected to see such a lineup other places, as she took in each face, the look upon hers grew more and more curious. Her brow squeezed together as she let slip out, "Well aren't we the most unlikely of a group to be together at this bar in this city in this age? I imagine we are all here for the same reason?" Reaching out a hand to swipe up the summons, she flashed it at the others. The ink of the map drawn on the back could faintly be seen through. "I go by Vanerua," she revealed as she laid the parchment back down. "If we are all here for this job, then one could assume we'll either be working together or competing against one another for it. In either case, the best way to start is to be respectful; cordial even. As such, would you welcome me acquiring you all a round? I'd recommend the Trost if they have it." Her friendly smile didn't mask any deception. Van had no reason to not make the offer. It wasn't as if she was paying for the drinks. It was that talk of drinks that sent a rumble through her stomach. Van's attention turned abruptly back to the bartender, "Does the Ogre Lord's offer cover food, too?"   Actions: Action: Reactions OA: Rapier: +4 Attack; 1d8+2 Piercing Rolls   Vanerua Galanodel, Level 1 Pallid Elf Twilight Cleric Initiative: +2 HP: 12/12, AC: 18 (Scale + Shield) Status Effect: None; Concentration: Speed: 30ft, Senses: Darkvision 300 ft; Passive Perception 16, Insight 21, Investigation 19 Languages: Celestial, Common, Elvish, Marquesian, Naush, Sylvan Saving Throws Str +0, Dex +2, Con +4, Int +2, prof-Wis +6, prof-Cha +2 Abilities: Str 11, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 14, Wis 18, Cha 11 Special Abilities: Grant Darkvision 300 feet onto up to 4 willing creatures within 10 feet of you for 1 hour. Usable 1 per Long Rest or with a Spell Slot.Eyes of the Night; Advantage on Next Initiative CheckVigilant Blessing: Target; Can cast Silvery Barbs and Misty Step once per Long Rest or with Appropriate-Leveled Spell SlotsFey Touched: Silvery Barbs, Misty Step Spellcasting: Spell Save DC 14, 2/2 - 1st Level Slots Cantrips: Guidance, Light, Sacred Flame, Word of Radiance Spells Known: Faerie Fire, Sleep, Silvery Barbs, Misty Step Spells Prepared: Bless, Detect Magic, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, Sanctuary Luck Points: 5 Notes: 6sp 4cp

[Elanir]

Keani Owata Art by “Littlerock” …forty-one, forty-two, forty-three. Keani paused, took a deep breath and continued. Another cycle. One, two, three, four… Each step represented a day. A day passed since the Zenith on the 26th of Unndilar. It had been a day of celebration for most people of the Menagerie Coast. Not so for Keani. Though he should have been grateful, he supposed. It could have been worse. He could have been in irons somewhere. Or at the bottom of the sea. It was he who had asked for this chance after all. And the guild had agreed. The merchants had been impressed by his confidence and optimism. It was just hard to retain that initial confidence and optimism one and a half months later when his pouch was no heavier than it had been on that fateful day in Port Damali. Ten gold coins would not go very far in satisfying those greedy men and women. Multiply them by a thousand and it would still not be enough. And yet he had to start somewhere. That ogre lord and the reward he promised had seemed intriguing at the time. Not that 270 gold coins and “strong weapons”, whatever that meant, would help him solve his problem, but they were better than nothing. That meant that he had to sail around the continent to meet him, but there was no alternative. No one in the Clovis Concord would offer him a job and there was too much bad blood between himself and the Revelry to go begging there. Besides, raiding innocent ships was not Keani’s idea of an honest work. He had seen too many colleagues destroyed and lives cut short at the hands of pirates for this to be a viable option. Even finding a ship to take him to Jigow had not been an easy task. He had only been able to do so because she had allowed it. Aramela Tysior, his “shadow”, seemed to always be there, watching him, even when she was leisurely gossiping with friends, laughing at some silly joke or listening to the poetry of some famous bard. The metal in her eyes made his hair stand on end, even when the woman had never actually made a threat against him. She didn’t have to. The reputation of the organization she belonged to was all the incentive he needed. He had heard the stories. He didn’t need to experience them too. Another pause, another deep breath. A sigh as well. How long had he been walking? Long, very long. Long enough for the playful sea breeze to be replaced by the noxious fumes of the swamp and the squawking of the seagulls to be drowned out by the constant buzzing of a multitude of insects with absolutely no respect for the integrity of his skin and the loud croaking of nameless amphibians he saw for the very first time. There were worse creatures out there, he had been warned. He was lucky he hadn’t met them yet, though he doubted that his luck would hold. It was just like Kord to lull him into complacency before throwing at him the very worst the god could imagine. And the imagination of gods was the only thing that could measure up with his immense debt. It was not an encouraging thought. The good news was that he had finally reached Urzin. Urzin was… unique even in the half-elf’s eyes and Keani had visited over the years many places that were deemed special. It didn’t resemble a town as much as it did a fleet. Though perhaps not as large as most merchant ships were in length, the Horizonbacks were still big enough for each one to carry a whole neighborhood of tents, lean-tos and a haphazard collection of other semi-permanent buildings made from wood, reeds, grass, mud, rope and other substances too exotic to identify. The labyrinthine passages between them was a sailor’s nightmare, though it was probably also fair to say that a sailor would be the only one, apart from the locals, not intimidated by the hanging ropes, rickety bridges and wooden platforms that dominated the place. At least, if Keani closed his eyes, he could imagine himself aboard the Silver Dolphin, sailing across the ocean. One only had to ignore the loud noises as the beasts moved through the swamp, the sudden movements, which had nothing to do with the elegant swaying of a sea vessel, and the smell. Yes, the smell was definitely new. The welcoming party, consisting of gnolls, was unusual, but strangely fitting in this town built upon the backs of giant tortoises, and Keani found himself nodding affirmatively as he was escorted to one of the very few “true” buildings he had been able to spot. Though the half-elf doubted that he actually needed a rope not to fall off the back of the Horizonback, he accepted it nonetheless. Moss and things worse than moss made most surfaces treacherously slippery and falling to his death was not going to be impressing Lord Buhfall II. Neither would it mean an end to his troubles. If he was no longer there to deal with his debt, he feared that the Myriad would be visiting his family next. The thought was enough to be turning his stomach into a knot. "Thank you, Dumprot. I am Keani. See you soon, I hope", the half-elf bid the friendly gnoll farewell. He hoped that he wouldn't have to wait long for others to arrive. He didn’t care for the hospitality of this place, though truth be told, he had slept in places much, much worse than this inn. In any case, time was of the issue. Forty-three days have passed since Zenith, he reminded himself. He didn’t have to. This was not something one could forget. Opening the door to the place, Keani looked around. There were several people inside the common room and since none of them were goblins, ogres or gnolls, the sailor took this as a good indication that they were mercenaries like him. Good. He wouldn’t have to wait long after all. Nodding his greetings to the patrons and offering a smile to anyone who cared to return said greeting, he swiftly approached the bar, his footing as sure as if he had been aboard a ship. Shelly’s “Shellter” built on the shell of a tortoise, he thought, striving to find the humor in it and failing. Just a few months ago he would have been laughing loudly and buying silvertooth to all inside. Not anymore, though. Not anymore. "A fish out of water?", the half-elf replied, finding Shelly’s comment uncannily acute. "You are more right than you know, friend. May I have some tea, please? Nothing unusual, nothing… toxic. Just tea. Thank you." A few months ago he would have been partaking of that silvertooth. Not excessively of course, just enough for his lips to become looser and for the evening to become more memorable. Not anymore, though. Definitely not anymore. Turning to look at his future companions, Keani consciously passed his fingers through his hair, knowing that it wouldn’t accomplish much. His hair had a wild streak, he had been told, but he liked this about it. Decorated with braids, thongs, small feathers and shells, it made abundantly clear that the half-elf was a creature of the sea. Was and will be once more!, Keani stubbornly reminded himself. This too had not been necessary. This too could never have been forgotten. His clothes on the other hand were much more ordinary than his hair. They were sturdy, had already seen plenty of use, and were as fashionable as Shelly’s inn. A tunic, a pair of trousers, an all-weather cloak and a good pair of boots completed his rather unremarkable attire. Keani much preferred walking barefoot whenever he could, but a single glance at Brokenveil Marsh had been enough to make him aware that packing the best pair of footwear he could find had definitely been the right choice to make. Despite the troubles that weighed him down, the half-elf was not one to count on the pity of others. Nor was he one to surrender to despair. Being alone with his dark thoughts as he was traveling the lands of Xhorhas had been trying, but now that he found himself among people once more -and what interesting individuals they were!- it didn’t take long for his natural conviviality to surface. Most people found him charming, even somewhat good-looking, though as was to be expected preferences varied greatly among the different peoples and races, and this was something he was conscious of. "Greetings, friends. I am Keani Owata, originally from Tussoa. It appears to me that we are all guests of Lord Buhfall II. Do you know anything about this goblin counselor we are to be locating? Do you, Shelly? I am sure the good lord will be explaining everything there is to know soon enough, but it’s never wrong to be prepared, is it?"

 

Actions Action: Roleplaying. Reaction: Bonus: Move: Effects: Notes etc:

Keani Owata Half-Elf (Mark of the Storm) | Sorcerer (Divine Soul) 1 Armor Class: 13 | Hit Points: 9/9 | Speed: 30 ft | Luck Points: 5 Melee/Ranged Attack: +5 / 1d4+3 (dagger) | +5 / 1d8+3 (light crossbow) | Bolts: 20/20 Str 11 (+0) | Dex 16 (+3) | Con 16 (+3) | Int 13 (+1) | Wis 16 (+3) | Cha 18 (+4) Saving throws: Str +0 | Dex +3 | Con +5 | Int +1 | Wis +3 | Cha +6 Skills: Arcana +3 | Athletics +2 | Perception +5| Persuasion +6 | Navigator’s tools | Vehicles (Water) Passive Perception: 13 | Initiative: +3 | Hit Dice: 1d6 Darkvision: 60 feet | Fey ancestry: IMM to magical sleep, ADV Vs charm Windwright’s intuition: add +1d4 to Acrobatics and Navigator’s tools checks Favored by the gods: add 2d4 to a failed save or attack roll [1/1 pSR] Storm’s boon: resistance to lightning damage Feat - Telekinetic: attempt to move (5ft) a creature as a bonus action (Str DC 13) Spellcasting: Charisma - DC 14 | Spell attack: +6 Spells: 1st level – 2/2 Spells known: Guidance (0), Gust (0), (modified) Mage Hand (0), Prestidigitation (0), Ray of Frost (0), Thunderclap (0), Cure Wounds (1), Featherfall (1), Fog Cloud (1), Guiding Bolt (1), Thunderwave (1) Languages: Common | Elvish | Naush | Primordial Items of Note: Wand [piece of wood from the Silver Dolphin] (arcane focus) | Coins: 10 gp

[hafrogman]

Argus Varak, Student of the Five Metal Path Argus sat and waited as one by one, other travelers entered the tavern, each offering an all-too familiar scrap of parchment to the barkeep, and receiving much the same greeting as Argus himself had in turn. As each new face arrived, he kept a running calculation in his head. One hundred and thirty five. The first to enter was a gnomish lass, familiar enough, but with unusual coloring. Fair of hair, but dusky-skinned, she kept close council with the hobgoblin. The young dragonborn stayed put, not making eye contact. There was nobody else in here. Did she think the subject of his whispers wasn't obvious? Ninety. The second arrival caused an involuntary reaction in the noble as one of his own kin entered the tap room. Argus shifted slightly as he took in a tall, broad-shouldered bronze. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. No tail! Distant kin then, a cousin more than a brother. He'd heard of Ravenites of course, even seen a few around the docks, but he'd never had cause to actually speak with any. He'd always found it slightly odd, that. Grandmother and father occasionally mentioned them when telling tales of lost Draconia... but why had none of them accompanied them to Feolinn when the family had evacuated? Surely a family as prestigious as House Varak could have found gainful employment for some of the less fortunate survivors of the fall. Given the bronze's presence at this house of ill-repute, he was clearly in need of a higher purpose. Perhaps Argus himself would hire him after the conclusion of this business, return him to the fold... 'Are you blocked up?! I hear some Kinespaji will clear it right up! Like a faucet it would! Be lighter on your feet than you ever been!' ...then again, perhaps not. Argus continued to sit and observe as the door creaked open once more. Sixty something? That wasn't even a clean division. Sixty-seven... and a half. Five silver. Mere pocket change. This woman was... human? No, she was something else with those ears. Well, Wildemount was large enough for all sorts, he supposed. Argus watched impassively as she ordered a large drink of something he couldn't quite identify. It looked uncannily similar to the metal polish the maid used to clean the villa's candlesticks. From the look on her face after she took her first sip, he imagined it tasted and smelled similar as well. It was interesting how she had introduced herself to the Ravenite, as if she had seen his name written, but never heard it spoken. Did she already know who (and how many) would be coming? Fifty four. This was getting ridiculous. Was it even worth staying at this point? How far would fifty four gold get him? The fifth arrival was... unusual to be sure. An elf, but of no type he had seen before. He wondered briefly what land produced fair folk quite so pale. She joined the others gathered at the bar, and Argus's brow furrowed slightly. Everyone was up there now, except him at his table. Eventually he'd have to go up and join them and introduce himself, even though he'd arrived first. He stewed for a moment in his chair until Vanerua offered to buy them all a round on the Ogre Lord's coin. He laughed a little at the jest and finally hauled himself back to his feet, lured away from his solitude. As he walked back across the room, the grace of his movements implied he was not at all drunk, as the gnome might have assumed. Forty-five! Halfway to the bar, the door opened once more and Argus froze in his tracks. Six? Six people to split this damned pitiable reward? What was even the point in trying? Surely there must be a better way to finance the rest of his travels. But... he had already availed himself of Buhfall's hospitality, and there was a peaceful night of rest to be had. Maybe it was best to hear the local ruler out, then try and turn gratitude into something more substantial. The draconblood sighed and joined everyone at the bar, finishing off his first glass then almost spitting it out when Keani introduced himself. Keani Owata? That was an unusual enough name, surely not a coincidence, especially not if the half-elf truly hailed from Tussoa. An imposter, perhaps? No... who would be foolish enough to pretend to such an identity? If this was the man in question... there was no way that forty-five gold would even represent the smallest drop in the bucket. Was there something larger on the line than a handful of gold? Did the Ki'Nau know something Argus didn't? With a renewed interest in completing the job, regardless of the amount of gold written on the parchment, Argus finally spoke. "Captain." He nodded first to Keani. "Tussoa, did you say? You're quite a long way from home... as, I suppose, am I." Following this admission, the noble turned slightly to introduce himself to the group as a whole. "My name is Argus, of the House Varak, late of the Menagerie Coast myself." He bowed slightly. "It seems we are all gathered here for the same purpose, and while I have no more knowledge of our task than any of you, it seems..." He paused slightly and his eyes flicked to DeeDee, just in case she did have more information. "It seems that we may be able to draw some conclusions. We have a missing person. If this were time critical, a race to find the councilor, then surely we would not be sitting here, drinking the good name of Lord Buhfall II at our leisure." He raised his glass in a small toast. "Conversely, if this were a simple matter... there would not be six of us." He silently offered a small prayer to Bahamut that their group was complete at a half-dozen, having no desire to split the reward further, the captain's debts be damned. "So we have an issue important enough to print out missives and gather a group... I expect it is because the Lord believes we will need all of us together to achieve his goals..." His theorizing complete, Argus took a sip from his new drink, courtesy of Vanerua, by way of Lord Buhfall II.

OOC   Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action:   Stat Block Argus Varak | Dragonborn (Metallic) | Monk | Level 1 HP: 9/9 | AC: unarmored defense16 | PP: 13 | Initiative: +3 | Speed: 30ft | Luck Points: 5 Stats: Str 12 (+1), Dex 17 (+3), Con 13 (+1), Int 12 (+1), Wis 16 (+3), Cha 14 (+2) Saves: Str +3 | Dex +5 Attacks: Attack +5 ; 1d6+3 piercing damageShortsword, Attack +5 ; 1d4+3 piercing damage; Range 20/60Dart, Attack +5 ; 1d4+3 bludgeoning damageUnarmed Strike Skills: Acrobatics +5 | Athletics +3 | History +3 | Persuasion +4 Languages: Common, Draconic, Elvish, Marquesian Relevant Equipment: Shortsword, Darts (10) Silver - ColdMetallic Ancestry | You have resistance to the damage type associated with your Metallic Ancestry.Draconic Resistance | Feature: Thanks to your noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are. The common folk make every effort to accommodate you and avoid your displeasure, and other people of high birth treat you as a member of the same social sphere. You can secure an audience with a local noble if you need to.Position of Privilege | While you are wearing no armor and not wielding a shield, your AC equals 10 + your Dexterity modifier + your Wisdom modifier.Unarmored Defense | You gain the following benefits while you are unarmed or wielding only monk weapons and you aren’t wearing armor or wielding a shield:[list][*]You can use Dexterity instead of Strength for the attack and damage rolls of your unarmed strikes and monk weapons.[*]You can roll a d4 in place of the normal damage of your unarmed strike or monk weapon. This die changes as you gain monk levels, as shown in the Martial Arts column of the Monk table.[*]When you use the Attack action with an unarmed strike or a monk weapon on your turn, you can make one unarmed strike as a bonus action.Martial Arts (1d4) | Feat: Gift of the Chromatic Dragon   Powers and Abilities Dragonborn When you take the Attack action on your turn, you can replace one attack with a 15 ft. cone breath weapon. Each creature must make a DEX save taking 1d10 cold damage on a fail or half as much on a success.Breath Weapon (DC11) [ ][ ] Gift of the Metallic Dragon You learn the cure wounds spell. Once per long rest, you can cast it without expending a spell slot. You can also cast it using any spell slots you have. Your spellcasting ability for this spell is Wisdom.Draconic Healing [ ] When you or another creature you can see within 5 ft. of you is hit by an attack, you can use your reaction to grant a +2 bonus to the target's AC against that attack roll, potentially causing it to miss. You can use this reaction 2 times per long rest.Protective Wings [ ][ ]

[ihinka]

When two is a company, three a crowd... six is a mess waiting to happen! Nissa was hardly surprised when the door to Shelly's place opened soon after her own arrival. Dumprot had mentioned others. And the presence of the silver dragonborn was also indication she would not be alone on this mission for Bufhall. However, the large, bronze frame of a second dragonborn was a bit of a surprise. Especially considering the fact that the larger dragonkin was quite obviously, tailless. Nissa's gaze shifted from the new arrival to the sliverling draped over the table. Hm, these two in one group. Wonder how that one'll go over! Nissa's trader mind calculated quietly the odds of these two getting up into each other's grills. After all, a savvy trader should know of any and all constrains and obstacles to trading routes and opportunities. And two dragonborn, each representing factions with checkered past between them... in one place no less... Dicey at best! Could be fun to observe, though! Nissa shrugged just as the huge bronze dragonborn sat himself at the counter and lost no time in inserting himself in her and Shelly's whispered conversation. So no pretense with this guy, I see. She was way past feeling small and insignificant by this point. Especially in a place such as Urzin, where all manner of folk made their home on the backs of ginormous tortoises traipsing the land in booming fashion. "...Name's Kimmaath by the way..." "Kimmaath you say..." Nissa spoke in a pensive manner. "Kiiiii... mmaaaaa... th." The svirfniblen jostled the name around in her mouth. Something about it was tickling her brain. "Kimma... ath..." Another test run... Another brain tickle. When, finally, her eyes went huge. A sh*t-eating grin splitting her maimed features. "Kimma!" She declared with finality, slapping a huge shoulder with her tiny hand. An uncharacteristic giggle escaping her, forcing her big ears to flop about a bit. "Friend, your parents deserve praise. They gave you a strong name." The deep gnome asserted, as she kept slapping Kimmaath's shoulder with a hand that was probably the size of one of his scales. "Shelly, bring this guy yer best! And as for that one..." But before Nissa could continue, the door to Shelly's place opened once more. In walked a tall and lanky young woman with cat ears, who looked as if she, much like Nissa herself, had had a tussle with the swamp. And lost! The deep gnome shrugged and turned with every intention to resume her conversation with Kimma. But the newcomer spoke, before that could happen. She too was here for the job. No surprise there. Shelly's establishment probably didn't receive this much attention... ever! So odds were good that whoever was yet to come, would do so for that job. "I’m DeeDee and your Kimmaath if I pronounced that right. Well met! And please to meet you too. What’s your name?" The peppy delivery forced Nissa a bit further into her shell. Two was company after all. Three was going into crowd territory. Especially one as bubbly as this DD seemed to be. "Nissa..." She answered, almost begrudgingly. And then added as an afterthought. "... Daergel." Glancing at the blue liquid in DD's cup she muttered. "I'm not sure you oughtta be drinking that." Just as the cat-eared youngling downed the drink. See, told you so! Nissa shook her head at DD's obvious displeasure of her choice in drink. "Here, wash it down with this." She slid her tankard towards DD. "Mead fixes all!" The svirfniblen spoke with confidence. Again the door to Shelly's opened. Another new character to add to the mess. But as Nissa glanced over to see who it was now, she nearly toppled off her high-stool, having to grab for Kimmaath's arm to steady herself. No! Surely it can't be! Though Laryanna had described her to Nissa in vivid detail once. The svirfniblen's heterochromatic eyes tracked the Pallid elf with a trace of sheer disbelief. Which grew with every word and action of this person. Either she simply resembled the true culprit. Admittedly almost down to a T. Or whoever made the testimony in the first place, gave the first description that came to mind. By this point, however, Nissa was not talking much. In fact, she wasn't talking at all, unless directly addressed. Crowds were not her thing. Oh, she knew how to be civil. Cordial, however, was another matter. She was deep in her tankard of mead by the time a sixth patron availed himself of Shelly's establishment. This one, blissfully unfamiliar to Nissa. Good! She allowed Kimma to introduce her with each new arrival after DD. Confident he was sociable in that way. It was at this point that the silvery form, slumped over the table, rose and approached them. "It lives!" Nissa opened her mouth for the first time in a bit to deliver her somewhat snarky remark. Belied by a cheeky grin and a raise of her tankard in salute. "Well, I guess we'll learn soon enough what it is that is required of us. In the meantime, I've got a tired mule and a cart caked in swamp out back to attend to. Plus, I wouldn't say no to a change of clothes." Nissa twisted this way and that to asses the muddiness of her current outfit. "Shelly was just about to tell me if I could trouble him for some water and feed. Before y'all came pouring through the door." Nissa's tone was polite, but her demeanor felt aloof in the way that some people used politeness to keep others at arm's length.

OOC   Movement: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Blood Curse of the Eyeless Interaction: Notes:

Character Details   Name: Nissa Daergel Race: Svirfneblin (Deep Gnome) - You have advantage on all Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws against magic.Gnome Cunning, Your darkvision has a radius of 120 feet.Superior Darkvision, You have advantage on Dexterity (Stealth) checks to hide in rocky terrain.Stone Camouflage Class: Blood Hunter 1 - You have advantage on Wisdom (Survival) checks to track fey, fiends, or undead, and you have advantage on Intelligence ability checks to recall information about them. Hemocraft Modifier: Wisdom Your Hemocraft DC is 13.Hunter’s Bane, You can invoke a blood curse 1/per short rest. Before it affects the target, you can choose to amplify the curse. An amplified curse gains an additional effect noted in the curse's description. Amplifying a curse causes you to take 1d4 points of necrotic damage that cannot be reduced in any way. Creatures that don't have blood in their bodies are immune to blood curses, unless the curse has been amplified.Blood Maledict Background: Savvy Trader You have spent your life on the roads, carrying the things people want through war zones, storms, and raider attacks. Empty wagons earn no profit, so you are adept at finding buyers for whatever goods you carry and securing new cargo for the return trip. You can always find a buyer for any sort of item, even contraband, as long as you are in a settlement. Likewise, you have a network of contacts who can locate fantastic treasures for the right price. Magical items, maps to lost ruins, or rare special materials are all available to you given enough time. Speak with the DM to determine how long it takes to work your contacts and what they require in return for their information and help.Guild Merchant Languages: ServiceableCommon, FluentDwarvish, FluentGnomish, ServiceableUndercommon Proficient Skills: +4Acrobatics, +6Athletics, +5Insight, +2Investigation, +1Persuasion, +5Survival Blood Curses: When a creature you see within 30 ft. of you makes an attack, you can use your reaction to roll 1d4 and subtract the result from the creature's attack roll. You can choose to use this feature after the creature's roll but before the DM determines whether the attack hits or misses. Creatures immune to the Blinded condition are immune to this curse. Amplify. You apply this curse to all of the creature's attacks until the end of its turn, rolling separately for each attack.Blood Curse of the Eyeless   Str Dex Con Int Wis Cha Abilities 18 14 16 11 16 9 Saving Throws +4 +4 +3 +2 +3 -1 AC 14 Init +2 Speed w30 HP 13/13 Hit Dice 1/1 d10 Passive Perception 13 Luck Points 5/5

[Elanir]

Keani Owata Art by “Littlerock” "Captain." A word that had been a title of honor and Keani’s primary source of pride now made him cringe at the sound of it. It had been spoken on purpose. There was no doubt about that. The dragonborn’s facial expression, though more difficult to read than that of a human or elf, was unmistakable. He had definitely heard the story. Or one of the stories at any rate. It was hard to know which one exactly. They were all terrible of course, so it didn’t really matter. "Just Keani please." A captain without a ship isn’t really a captain, is he? "Nice to meet you, Argus. Forgive me, but I have not heard of House Varak before. Living in Port Damali, I suppose. It used to be my base as well, but not anymore." Unconsciously, one of the half-elf’s hands landed upon his pouch and stayed there. Hadn’t one of the goblins mentioned that the two dragonborn in town had been behaving pretty suspiciously? The bright one especially was thought of being a thief. Argus didn’t look like a particularly successful thief, but maybe this was because he liked to “drink” all his illicit earnings. Then again this might only be a baseless rumor. Keani was no stranger to the kind. Still, he hadn’t travelled half the continent to get robbed, not that he had anything worth stealing anyway. In any case, Argus’ thinking definitely made sense. What the half-elf didn’t really understand was why the ogre lord found it easier to post his little signs as far as Port Damali instead of simply choosing six of his most capable citizens and promising them a reward to find the goblin counselor. It is what Keani would have done in his place. There was a story here. An interesting story no less, but he doubted any of his new colleagues would have any inkling about what it was really all about. Had they known all along, they probably wouldn’t have come. They were either ignorant of the facts or in dire need of gold. Probably both, just like he was. It was at this time that a gnome spoke up - one of the deep gnomes, unless Keani was mistaken. it is stated that Kimmaath introduced herNissa, it seemed, had brought along a mule and a cart, which considering the location of the inn was nothing short of miraculous. "Hello, Nissa. Now, I have never tended a mule before, but I can honestly claim that I am something of an expert in scraping dirt off wood. I would be more than glad to give you a hand, if you’d like." Anything not to have to pretend not to notice the looks Argus and some of the others gave him. At least the gnome didn’t seem to have heard of the “Shipwrecker” before, which was something of a blessing.

 

Actions Action: Roleplaying. Reaction: Bonus: Move: Effects: Notes etc:

Keani Owata Half-Elf (Mark of the Storm) | Sorcerer (Divine Soul) 1 Armor Class: 13 | Hit Points: 9/9 | Speed: 30 ft | Luck Points: 5 Melee/Ranged Attack: +5 / 1d4+3 (dagger) | +5 / 1d8+3 (light crossbow) | Bolts: 20/20 Str 11 (+0) | Dex 16 (+3) | Con 16 (+3) | Int 13 (+1) | Wis 16 (+3) | Cha 18 (+4) Saving throws: Str +0 | Dex +3 | Con +5 | Int +1 | Wis +3 | Cha +6 Skills: Arcana +3 | Athletics +2 | Perception +5| Persuasion +6 | Navigator’s tools | Vehicles (Water) Passive Perception: 13 | Initiative: +3 | Hit Dice: 1d6 Darkvision: 60 feet | Fey ancestry: IMM to magical sleep, ADV Vs charm Windwright’s intuition: add +1d4 to Acrobatics and Navigator’s tools checks Favored by the gods: add 2d4 to a failed save or attack roll [1/1 pSR] Storm’s boon: resistance to lightning damage Feat - Telekinetic: attempt to move (5ft) a creature as a bonus action (Str DC 13) Spellcasting: Charisma - DC 14 | Spell attack: +6 Spells: 1st level – 2/2 Spells known: Guidance (0), Gust (0), (modified) Mage Hand (0), Prestidigitation (0), Ray of Frost (0), Thunderclap (0), Cure Wounds (1), Featherfall (1), Fog Cloud (1), Guiding Bolt (1), Thunderwave (1) Languages: Common | Elvish | Naush | Primordial Items of Note: Wand [piece of wood from the Silver Dolphin] (arcane focus) | Coins: 10 gp

[Retry]

Kimmaath "Kimma" Vyufras Art by @Third_Cookie With a quiet chuckle the ravenite returned his attention to the svirfneblin in the midst of digesting his name. She seemed to be either struggling with his name or really enjoyed it. The slap had a surprising bit of strength behind it as Nissa declared a nickname for the bronze ravenite. "Kimma? Kimma..." with a slight droop in facial features it was clear the cogs within the large skirmisher were whirling as fast as they could to connect the dots. With the follow-up statement and the acceptance of his new nickname a proud grin spread across Kimma's face. "As do you!" once Kimmaath, now 'Kimma' declared "A strong given name!! Thank you!" The spot on his shoulder was starting to get raw from the surprisingly powerful slaps, yet to recoil or demand a stop would likely be an insult to someone who gave him a gift of a new name upon first meet! Kimma wouldn't dare insult a new (unnamed) friend! The copper eyes of Kimma shifted to the item being shifted down a bar before a cat...person? Came between his new friend and he. She didn't seem to be an interesting mix of feline and human-like traits. Kimma had never seen such physical traits before! Although, almost anything was possible within the Wastes of Xhorhas - or so his older sibling Andri would often say when they returned from a trip. "It was!" Kimma declared as the newly introduced 'DeeDee' turned to his new friend to inquire her name. The blue drink caught his attention and a slight grimace formed on his face before it was (noticeably) chased away and Kimma did his best to hold a straight face. When DeeDee took a swig the skirmisher finally stated "Oh, never knew someone would actually drink Yuelaalyu! Always thought the spit part was unnecessary." If she were to inquire, the Ravenite would explain the drink a mixture of fermented marshland berries and tortoise spit. Another unfamiliar woman appeared with a summon. This day was just full of interesting events it felt! His new friend almost toppled from her chair and clasped to his arm to steady herself. "Oh! She's a light-weight!" the pun formed in the skirmisher's head but was left unspoken gently lifting a bronze arm just enough to assist in stabilizing the blood hunter's balance. A ramble of goblin-tongue that amounted to "Hold on one second" slithered in a surprised exclamation from Kimma's maw when Keani inquired about the goblin counselor. The ravenite picked up his summon and actually read it for the first time, beyond the coin amount or the one giving the coin. When Nissa declared Argus' to be alive, Kimma slammed the summon down onto the table with a bout of excitement. "Did the Kinespaji work!? Are ya free of all tha rice cloggin you!?" overlooking the fact such a feat would be impossible since it had only been a small set of time since first suggesting it. OOC   Actions Move: Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: Contingencies: Notes/Rolls: Kimmaath "Kimma" Vyufras Theme Song "Destructive Goodwill" by Daisuke Ishiwatari Level Ravenite Fighter 1 HP: 14/14 | AC: Chain Shirt15 | Speed: 30 ft. | Senses: PP 11 DV:60ft | HD: 1d10 Luck Pts. 5/5 Status: Healthy Feats: Draconic Ancestry - Bronze, Breath weapon (Lightning), Darkvision, Vengeful Assault, Chef, Fighting Style: Unarmed Fighting, Second Wind, Skills: Athletics +6, Insight +3, Performance +4, Survival +3 Tools: Cook's Utensils, Dice Set Languages: Common, Draconic, Goblin, Orcish Combat Equipment: Unarmed Strike [open] (+6 <> 1d8+4 Blud.), Unarmed Strike [armed] (+6 <> 1d6+4 Blud.), Handaxe (+6 <> 1d6+4 Slash), Net (+4 <> -), Breath (DEX 14 <> 2d6 Lightning) Magic Items: - Abilities Str Dex Con Int Wis Cha Score: 18 14 18 12 12 14 Modifier: +4 +2 +4 +1 +1 +2 Saves: +6 +2 +6 +1 +1 +2   As an action once per short rest, exhale in a 5 by 30 ft. line (DEX DC 14, half damage on success) for 2d6 Lightning Damage [6th] 3d6, [11th] 4d6, [16th] 5d6Breath Weapon (Bronze) - [1/1] Once per Short Rest, when you take damage from a creature you can use your reaction to make a counter attack against that creature.Vengeful Assault - [1/1] Once per Short Rest as a Bonus Action, you can regain 1d10+[Fighter Lv] HP.Second Wind - [1/1] You can prepare food that allows creatures to regain additional hit points when taking a short rest as well as gain temporary hit points after a long rest.Chef [limit: 6 creatures for short rest, 2 treats for long]

[Hillsy7]

Dewdrop “I’m not sure you oughtta be drinking that”, Nissa said a fraction too late. It wasn’t so much that the…..’Yuelaalyu’….tasted bad – that would imply that the acrid power of the alcohol didn’t burn through her nose so fast the bitter-sweet tang of fermented fruits barely had time to kiss her tongue. It was the consistency that caused Dew’s body to attempt to resist her absent-minded efforts to pour it inside of her. It flowed, and yet was so thick she actually felt her teeth bite into and through it. And so, Dew was caught halfway through swallowing a mouthful where the drink firmly insisted it was all or nothing. And that would’ve been bad enough, except the Goblin Translation of Yuelaalyu alluded horrifically to what exactly it was that gave the drink it’s vile elasticity. ~You’re an idiot~ Sabanna tsked in the tired manner of a suffering mother while Dew froze, trying not to blast the common room of Shelly’s Shelter with blue mucus. ~How do you always choose the wrong thing? And now everyone is looking. Oh, Dewdrop.~ Dew could actually hear Sabanna put her head in one hand and shake it. She glanced around, cheeks puffed, eyes somewhat panicked, wondering what would kill her first: Choking on the drink trapped in her throat, the drink poisoning her if she swallowed, or just plain embarrassment. ~I may be a fool. But I’m a committed one~ she thought back. No one would ever write a ballad about that moment, but the effort it took to not to throw up and consume the whole glutinous mass in several long interconnected gulps was easily equal to that of any slain dragon or liberated kingdom. Her eyes streamed, her throat felt coated in sand, her stomach was fluttering in terrified paroxysms, but she held it down. “Ahhhh…” She croaked hoarsely like she’d just inhaled a campfire and slid the wooden mug away from her. “Surprisingly refreshing.” With a nod of thanks she took Nissa’s proffered mead and tried to wash away the taste. It didn’t work, she could barely taste anything now and the event was burned into her very soul. The next few minutes were something of a blur. An incredibly pale elf – Vanerua – entered encased in armour that seemed both preternaturally clean and two sizes too big. She too was here for work and bought them all drinks, which was generous of her. Dew stuck with the mead, rather than this Trost she spoke of – likely a Tea of some sort as Pallid elves didn’t drink as far as she knew. The last arrival was Keani, plainly dressed but far from unpleasant to look at, and this seemed to rouse Argus who manfully avoided the sneers of Kimma to join their little huddle and begin discussing what the intentions were in bringing them all together. She hopped to sit on the bar, feet on the stool, and cradled her fresh mug of mead, which was slowly beginning to taste of something other than regret. The five others in the room were eclectic, yet all had the feel of outsiders with well travelled roads stretching out behind them. She frowned to herself. ~I think we’re ok with these, don’t you?~ she asked Sabanna. She felt no worry from the other woman resonate with hers. ~They all look like bona fide travellers to me~ ~They are all fairly artless at first glance. Too normal and obviously foreign. Hard for assassins to feign that sort of blend.~ Sabanna sounded preoccupied, as though she was figuring out a puzzle at the same time. ~I thought the same. Who goes hunting for fugitives loudly in empty bars like - ~ ~Except that one. She’s different.~ Dew could feel Sabanna’s attention almost craning to peer out of the corner of her eye at Vanerua. ~Almost surprised that she’s signed up for paid work.~ Dewdrop did what she could to look without moving an inch. ~I suppose. OK, we’ll keep an eye on her then, just in case.~ Sabanna went suddenly silent and still within their entwined souls, like she had suddenly been sublimed by the Luxon back to the cycle of rebirth. And then. ~I’m going to have a polite word with her~ Sabanna announced. For the second time in just ten minutes, Dew found herself with a mouthful of alcohol and fighting the urge to spray it everywhere in shock. ~No Sabanna! Forgotten what happened last time already? Where the guard thought I was flirting with him and tried to drag me upstairs, and then when I kicked him in the shins he screamed I was a witch? Who knows if Urzin also has a burning stake ready as well? And if it wasn’t for that passing group of Goblin Jugglers - ~ ~Don’t be so melodramatic, Dewdrop, for the Light’s sake - ~ ~They covered me in Brandy, Sabanna! Good Brandy! No, no, no, no, no….~ But it was too late. Dew felt Sabanna’s odd extension of her consciousness reach out to the Elf and no amount of psychic clawing could pull it back. Sabanna settled herself in her mind, drawing herself together. ~Well met, Vanerua, and many thanks for refilling our glasses.~ Dew didn’t mind the cut glass crispness of Sabanna’s accent normally, it gave her thought of a long suffering sister she never had, but the thought of it somehow being treated as her own mortified her. She thought about ignoring both Sabanna and Vanerua entirely and let the confusion lie, but that would make more problems. So she caught the Elf’s eyes and nodded with a smile as Sabanna continued. ~I must say you are a welcome visage of refinement in this place. Pray tell where precisely are these Ports and oceans of which you speak, and what of the Lord Buhfall’s summons appealed to you so much to draw you away from them to this…..fecund Marshland?~ ~I hate you~ Dew grumbled at Sabanna as she took another long swig of Mead and pretended she was happy this telepathic conversation was happening. OOC   Stat Block Dewdrop Neutral Good Shifter, Level 1 Warlock STR: 10 (+0) | DEX: 18 (+4) |CON: 14 (+2) | INT: 16 (+3) | WIS: 7 (-2**) | CHA: 19 (+4**) HP: 10/10 AC: 15; Initiative: +4; PP: 8 Darkvision: 60 feet. Weapons: +6 to hit, 1d8+4 damageL. Crossbow, +6 to hit, 1d4+4 damage, 20/60 range, finesse, lightDagger Spell Attack Roll: +6 Spell Save DC: 14 Armor: AC 11+4Leather Gear and Items: Proficient Skills: Acrobatics +6 | Arcana +5 | Deception +6 | Investigation +5 | Sleight of Hand +6 Features & Abilities: 1/1 Spell Slots (1st Level) - SR 3/3 Echoes of the Past - SR 1/1 Detect Thoughts (feat) - LR 2/2 Shifting - LR 5/* Luck Points - DM

[Saratek]

Vanerua Galanodel Level 1 Twilight Cleric Having heard the others speak, the elf's eyes came up quickly to find the shifter. This wasn't the first time a mage had used magic to speak into her mind, which told her much about the cat-woman's potential. There was a twinge of guilt in her smile, though, as Van was unsure if she deserved any thanks since she wasn't actually paying for the drinks. If she'd known this was part of the arrangement, she would have brought a deserving 'plus one' to take advantage of the Lord's generosity. Initially hopeful that she'd opened an avenue of dialogue with the others, the momentary silence that came after brought doubt upon the Pallid's features before the voice returned, this time with questions that seemed to excite and confuse the woman. Taking a brief moment to consider how to answer, Van's eyes flashed as the thought solidified in her mind. With a slight grin pulling at the corners of mouth, the elf locked eyes with the shifter and replied, "~I spent much time traveling the Menagerie Coast, with time spent in the usual Ports: Damali, Darktow, Nicodranas. Spent the most time in Damali, but have been away from a ship for some time now~" Van had no clue that Dewdrop didn't have the capacity to hear her response as previous spellcasters she'd encountered with such an ability could. Staring at the shifter, licking her lips before picking up her cup to wet her palate, it was clear the elf was waiting on a response in the unique form of communication.   Actions: Action: Reactions OA: Rapier: +4 Attack; 1d8+2 Piercing Rolls   Vanerua Galanodel, Level 1 Pallid Elf Twilight Cleric Initiative: +2 HP: 12/12, AC: 18 (Scale + Shield) Status Effect: None; Concentration: Speed: 30ft, Senses: Darkvision 300 ft; Passive Perception 16, Insight 21, Investigation 19 Languages: Celestial, Common, Elvish, Marquesian, Naush, Sylvan Saving Throws Str +0, Dex +2, Con +4, Int +2, prof-Wis +6, prof-Cha +2 Abilities: Str 11, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 14, Wis 18, Cha 11 Special Abilities: Grant Darkvision 300 feet onto up to 4 willing creatures within 10 feet of you for 1 hour. Usable 1 per Long Rest or with a Spell Slot.Eyes of the Night; Advantage on Next Initiative CheckVigilant Blessing: Target; Can cast Silvery Barbs and Misty Step once per Long Rest or with Appropriate-Leveled Spell SlotsFey Touched: Silvery Barbs, Misty Step Spellcasting: Spell Save DC 14, 2/2 - 1st Level Slots Cantrips: Guidance, Light, Sacred Flame, Word of Radiance Spells Known: Faerie Fire, Sleep, Silvery Barbs, Misty Step Spells Prepared: Bless, Detect Magic, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, Sanctuary Luck Points: 5 Notes: 6sp 4cp

[ForeverDM]

Shelly’s Shellter Selling Standard Sauce OOC: Mood Music Now that you are in the tavern, here is some new mood music! Rumbles and shakes were prominent in Shelly’s Shellter, for with each step that the gigantic Horizonback took, the entire construct atop its exterior armor swayed and bowed. The dimly lit, dirt-stained glass lanterns that hung from the ceiling of this tavern rattled and were tossed about with the motion, more than a couple of them had cracked glass panels that had seen plenty of migrational movement. The tables and chairs freely moved about the interior as the tortoise strode through the marsh, toppling over here and there, and those who were of a lighter weight found themselves needing to brace in order to stay upright. Luckily, there was a predictable pattern to this roaming rattler, and the entire settlement of Urzin was in tune with the motions. However, none of the group were Urzinites, and it was an odd thing to try and familiarize yourselves with the motions that occurred every twenty to thirty seconds. The wooden walls and floors of the building creaked and groaned, and depending on where one stood within the roving town, the settling sounds almost seemed like a complaining cry from the architecture itself. The layout of this establishment was nearly as odd as the premise of riding on shifting wooden platforms which rested upon monstrously massive tortoises. Well, maybe not that odd, but it was an interesting layout to be sure. Circular holes were cut cleanly into the far wall opposite of the entrance, some large enough to fit a bugbear comfortably through, while others were more goblin sized. Each of them had an indented, latched, and locked trap door blocking further entry, but it looked as if these were the rooming “accommodations” that had been forementioned by Dumprot upon your arrivals. Wafts of old spilled ale and golbinoid body odor hung in the air here, combined with the smells of foodstuff that was pushing out from behind the bar. The wood paneling on the walls was uneven and overlapping in some spots, and the same could be said about the floor. In fact, while walking through Shelly’s Shellter, one had to use trepidation due to the loose boards and raised nails that threatened to cause serious discomfort to those who stepped incorrectly. Alas, it was with the first arrival of Argus Varak that the tavern began to be active. With the young draconblood’s entrance, the barkeep gave his quip, yet realized that the scaly newcomer was not much one for conversing. "Well, if ya want somethin’ strong, I got just the thing!" He exclaimed cheerfully, his emerald eyes cheery and vibrant as he began concocting a beverage from multiple bottles. Soon, he scooted a medium sized glass toward Argus, giving a toothy grin beneath his thick five-o'clock shadow. The liquid within was layered and multicolored - red on top, orange in the middle, and yellow at the bottom with flakes of some kind floating within. "I call this one the Blazin’ Aezin! Somethin’ I came up with. Based it offa the tea they have up north, but it ain’t just a spicy tea!" He paused, waiting for the dragonborn to try the concoction. As Argus did, it was definitely an experience. A black peppery punch was the first sensation, but was followed oddly by a savory blend of spices, almost like a marinated and cooked meat. The final taste was that of chili pepper, and the lingering heat in the back of the mouth lent well to the overall flavor. "It’s not for everyone, but if ya like it, I’ll keep makin’ em for ya!" He paused as Argus stood up and went toward the back of the establishment. "My name’s Aezin, by the way, should ya need anythin’ else!...Hope ya like it…" The last words were said more quietly as he went back to wiping off glasses that were perpetually just unclean enough to be noticeable. It was shortly after that the second individual who was called for this task arrived, the door to the tavern opening and a small form stepping within. The next arrival was one that had Aezin push his head back in surprise. Nissa Daergel, as a Svirfneblin, was used to odd stares directed at her, though Aezin’s did seem more intrigued, rather than taken aback. As she pulled herself up onto the stool and looked toward the bartender, he grinned at her remark to his humor. "A mead it is! Traveled pretty far to get here, eh?" He asked as the mead was poured and handed over. "Can say I’ve only ever met one deep gnome before, back in my younger days. Don’t see many around…Or I guess, above." He gave a chuckle befitting of such small talk. As Nissa asked about feed and water for Tobby, he nodded, his dreadlocked black hair swaying around his shoulders. "’Course I can do that! Musta been hard gettin’ him through the marsh!" He stated as he walked toward the opposite end of the bar, pulling out a large cask, then stepping out from behind, bringing it over to the door. On his way over, he stopped next to Nissa. "He just got in not even an hour ago, been keepin’ to himself. I don’t think he’s gonna be a problem. Least I hope." He said quickly and quietly, before continuing along. "I’ll go grab the feed in a moment, but this water should do the trick for ya! If ya need anythin’ else, or just a refill, Aezin’s the name!" The cheerful hobgoblin kicked open the door, whistling as he walked out with the barrel over his shoulder. There was a period of uncomfortable silence while waiting for Aezin to come back in, at least until the door behind the bar on the left side opened up, and a hunched over form walked from behind the counter. A female goblin, old in her years, carried a large steaming cauldron that blocked her upper torso. "Aezin!...Aezin!...Aezin?!" She called out in a high-pitched squeal, getting no response. The door swung back open, and the hobgoblin ran in straight toward her, grabbing at the piping hot container. "Me-maw! I told you before, don’t ya try carryin’ stuff without me! You’ll pull yer back out again!" He said caringly. Taking the pot and lifting it onto the counter, the woman’s features came into view. Contrasting with Aezin’s tannish coloration, her skin was a dark green, mottled with light green splotches. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled up into a bun and tied with a leather band, and her wrinkly face peered up toward the barkeep, her orange eyes narrowing. "I am old, not dead Aezin! How many times have I told ya to stay behind the bar?!" She asked agitatedly. But Aezin wasn’t listening, and instead was reaching over to the spoon sticking out of the cauldron. Whack! The sound of the large metal spoon in the goblin woman’s hand hitting Aezin’s shin filled the chamber for a moment. "OW! Me-Maw, I was just gonna give it a stir!" The hobgoblin responded to the assault, sounding like a child who was just scolded. He was holding his shin at the point of impact, now hunched over with his face close to the elderly goblin’s. "Don’t ya ‘Me-Maw’ me, young man! You had that look ya have always had, lookin’ at it! Ya were gonna-" She abruptly stopped her reprimanding of the bartender who was easily more than three times her size, and bringing her finger down, which was pointed directly at Aezin’s nose. She glanced to the back of the room, seeing Argus, and then over the hobgoblin’s shoulder, seeing Nissa, before then looking toward the now open door, and the new arrival - a large bronze dragonborn. Indeed, Kimmaath Vyufras was tall, but the silhouette of the Ravenite was that of a standing rectangle - one whose shape is closer to that of a square. His figure was imposing and gave off a natural air of strength, yet his copper color eyes were that of honesty and warmth. After being a “wagon” for a few of the children on the bridges, it was time to get a drink and some food, and with everything being paid for according to Dumprot, this seemed to be the right place. But as the dragonborn stepped within, he could feel the gazing eyes of all those in the establishment. The old goblin woman piped up once more. "You, me. Kitchen. Now." She said in a serious, matter-of-fact tone. Grabbing Aezin’s ear, she began to drag him behind the bar, the bartender grimacing in pain and stepping alongside her without any resistance. They both moved back to the kitchen area, and Aezin waved at Kimmaath as he placed his order. "Be…Right…With ya! Ow!" The hobgoblin responded to the request in between the tugs of his earlobe. Both of them disappeared from sight as the three newcomers now stood in the otherwise empty room. The cauldron that still steamed up on the bar had a savory and earthy scent that came from the liquid within. For Kimmaath, the smell was distinctive, and looking at the mixture within, it was obviously a well known dish in these parts - Kinespaji Spaaldl. A stack of bowls and spoons on the opposite side of the container were present, but as the bronze Ravenite and the svirfneblin began to talk, muffled voices could be heard coming from behind the closed door that seemingly led to the kitchen. "And ya didn’t tell me they were comin’ in! I was bringin’ out the Kinespaji so I could serve it with the Rzukaal! But I told ya I needed a warning!" The squeaky, frustrated pitch was followed by the sound of a thud!, and the voice of Aezin responded. "Ow! Stop it Ma! I was takin’ care of them! Was gonna tell ya they were here, I promise!" He pleaded, then there was silence. Or, at least, they toned down their volume. After another couple of minutes, the door opened, and the hobgoblin stepped out, a forced looking smile now plastered across his face. His forehead looked a bit different from afar, and as he came closer, the slight indent of a circular object could be seen just above his brow. "Sorry ‘bout that!" He exclaimed, giving an embarrassed chuckle. "Erzfaalyu I can do, the Mastodon Kor’rundl I can’t, but I do have Rzukaal comin’ out soon!" He gave a courteous smile, and it was obvious Aezin was trying to make up for the embarrassing moment he had just subjected everyone to. Serving the Kinespaji Spaaldl to anyone who was so inclined, he then poured some Erzfaalyu for the dragonborn, refilled the mead in Nissa’s mug, and checked on Argus’s need for a refill. Coming back to the bar, he began to wipe things down for a few minutes, until the main entryway once more swung open. A muck covered woman stepped into the tavern, a crossbow laid across her back. Her hair had a naturally dark coloration, but was pushed down with a thickened layer of drying mud, causing it to be a mixture of brown tones. Two fur-covered ears poked from the now cracking dirt, and her eyes granted a mystery to those who viewed them. Dewdrop strutted in, looking about for a moment, before heading to the bar. Aezin turned in her direction as she approached, his smile growing once more. As the shifter gave the piece of parchment she had collected for the job, the hobgoblin looked at it for a moment, before turning his attention back toward Dewdrop. "Yeah, you’re right about that! Take a seat and a look, whatever piques your fancy, I’ll pour for ya!" He gave her a moment as she hesitated to decide, and as she pointed to the blue jar, Aezin’s head turned to follow the motion. He gave a hearty laugh, grabbing it from the shelf and turning his wrist in a circular pattern, the liquid inside now a vortex. "Can’t say many have asked for this one recently! It’s an acquired taste, but if you’re feelin’ brave, I’m happy to serve it!" He put a small wooden cup on the bar counter, pulling the cork with a pop!, then delicately poured the blue liquor into the receptacle. "Usually Yunfaalyu is served chilled, but this one is meant to be a bit warm. I’ve heard the plums ferment differently if they’re kept out, and then infused with a bit of Queen’s Water, least the type we make ‘round here. Different fruits in Xhorhas and all." He placed his palm over the cup for a moment as Shelly’s shifted and shook, another footfall occurring and threatening to spill the drink. "Cheers!" He toasted the glass toward Dewdrop, placing it in her hands. The flavor’s onset was interesting - a blend of fruity sweetness and a punch of sour citrus coating the tongue. It was strong, very strong. The layers of fragrant flavors did not do well in hiding the pungent undernote of straight alcohol, and swallowing the concoction was difficult, almost as if Dew’s body did not want to accept such imbibement. In any case, she was able to down the small amount, but immediately felt the burning sensation fill her stomach. The aftertaste was worse, much worse. Now it was an overwhelming coating of fungus flavor that hit the back of the tongue before finding its way to the front. An acquired taste, indeed. Luckily, the Kinespaji was made available, and shortly thereafter, the kitchen door swung open behind the bar, and Aezin looked over toward the voice calling out. "Aezin! The Rzukaal is ready!" The goblin woman called out, and Aezin quickly stepped over, lifting a large platter up onto the counter. A hot pile of rice noodles with a few mix-ins was now out on display. The barkeep turned once more and lifted another plate onto the bartop, this one with a stack of warm flatbreads, seasoned with herbs. The kitchen door swung closed, and Aezin turned to the group, now numbering four in the building. That was, until the fifth arrived, a slender form stepping into the place of business and leisure. Vanerua Galanodel made her entrance known - not by the way she carried herself, but by the pale skin and white glowing eyes that peered around the room. With sword on her hip and shield on her back, she stepped to the bar as Aezin turned and greeted the Pallid Elf. As she showed the page to the barkeep, he nodded, not making it obvious he saw anything other than the original wording on one side. "Yeah, seems all of you are here for that reason. From what I heard, he only sent out a few of those things. Lucky he got a reply at all to be honest!" The hobgoblin looked behind him as Vanerua asked for Trost, then continued on. "Can’t say I have any Trost, hard to come by in these parts…it being from the Empire and all." His voice got a bit more tense as he said this, and his gaze went slightly stern. He quickly cleared his throat. "What I do have is some dark ale that comes from a Duergar family in Rosohna. It’s rich, but I gotta say, it’s good." He pulls a mug out and pours the dark liquid into a mug, sliding it to Vanerua. Trying the drink, it was quite good. It had the flavor of molasses up front, and a malty vanilla aftertaste. As the cleric asked of food, Aezin nodded, pointing to the platters that now adorned the countertop. "Please, help yourself! Freshly made for you lot by Gelda!" Drink was poured and empty cups refilled, while Kinespaji and Rzukaal were enjoyed. The food was replenished by the recently labeled Gelda, though she did not show herself more than a few moments at a time. It was not long though before yet again, the door to the establishment was opened, and a unique fellow found himself facing a unique situation. It had been quite a long journey for Keani Owata, though the same could be said for the ‘others’ that Dumprot had guided him to. The native Tussoan found himself in a much different environment compared to what he was used to. Sure, there were marsh-like areas on the coasts of the Menagerie and its islands, but nothing compared to the full scale swamp that he had traveled into now. In any case, he was now stepping into the tavern known as Shelly’s Shellter, and was face to face with a number of other interesting individuals, who were busy talking back and forth. The long haired half elf moved toward the bar, responding to Aezin’s greeting, and asking for tea. "A tired traveler wantin’ tea over booze? Well, alright then, I think I may have somethin’!" The hobgoblin went to work happily, fetching some different dry herbs and fungi to mix together. Keani could not be sure that the barkeep knew what he was doing in regards to tea making, but a hot liquid sounded relaxing regardless. After a few minutes, the tea was ready to drink, and the amber colored liquid was put in front of the previous captain. Taking a sip, it was definitely floral, but had an earthy undertone befitting of the mushrooms used within. It wasn’t bad, but could use a bit of sweetness, maybe some honey. It was comforting all the same, and Keani sipped on the beverage while introducing himself and beginning to converse with the new group he had met. When he asked Aezin about his knowledge of the Ogre Lord, the barkeep looked toward him and smiled. "Well, Ogre Lord Buhfall II is in command of Urzin with Sunbreaker Olomon bein’ gone for political stuff. Both are good leaders, but I hear Buhfall is worried about the missin’ counselor and advisor. Bol’bara is the name, I think. Not really sure other than that, but rumor has it that it might be the doin’ of some Dwendalian forces that have been seen in the area as of late." He finished the statement with a look of disdain. Obviously the Empire is not a source of positivity in these parts. It felt good to be “a fish out of water” here, at least until his previous title was brought up. It seems that even a multitude of miles would not allow him to fully evade his past.Yet this group seemed to possess an amicable spirit for the time being, and as food was dished out and drink was plenty, there was nothing to worry about at the moment. Introductions to everyone continued on, and for the next fifteen or so minutes, the enjoyment was uninterrupted. BOOM! The sound was accompanied by a nearly violent shake and rattling of the wooden structure. The six newcomers to Urzin felt their stomach drop and heartbeat raise. As the group stood up and looked at each other, then toward Aezin, the hobgoblin looked entirely unfazed, making eye contact with the slightly panicked bunch. "Oh! Sorry, forgot that gives some people a good jolt! That’s just the final move for the day, the tortoises gotta rest. It’s nice to go out-" He began, but the kitchen door popped open, and the fiery old goblin woman climbed her way up a small step stool and onto the countertop. She was no longer wearing a stained apron and cook’s attire, but instead a nice but simple dark blue dress, which looked like it once may have been a normal tunic for someone taller. It fit her well though, her black and gray hair was styled and laid down onto her shoulders, and she had put a bit of makeup on, her cheeks now rosy pink over the green coloration. She looked about at all of the new faces, and had an expression as if she had never seen any of you before, though she obviously had in the last couple of hours. "Good evenin’ travelers, and welcome to Shelly’s Shellter! I am Gelda, owner of the tavern, and this here is my son Aezin!" She pointed toward the hobgoblin, who awkwardly lifted a hand up and gave a wiggle of a wave. "Now that the city ain’t movin’ no more, let’s go out and see the lights come on! Then, I’ll be showin’ ya to your rooms!" She wasted no more time in coming off of the bar, then walking to the entrance and beckoning the group to follow. "Ogre Lord Buhfall II will be sendin’ that stinky breath Dumprot to bring ya over in the mornin’. Now’s the time to enjoy your stay here in Urzin!" She informed all of you as she opened the main doorway. Stepping outside, it could be seen why Gelda had made it a point to bring the party. The sight of forty Horizonbacks settling in as dusk approached, the sun setting and bringing a melody of vibrant shades that pushed through the clouds above. Yellows, oranges, reds, and browns intermingled, and with the vantage point that was had here outside of Shelly’s Shellter, you could see over the main canopy of trees and into the distance of Xhorhas. Though the landscape was not entirely idyllic, the Emerald Gulch could be seen far out to the northeast, the thousands of gleaming specks of light casting off of it in a series of shades that matched the sunset. At the same time, lights began to shine upon the backs of the many giant tortoises that carried Urzin through the marsh. As darkness was approaching, the denizens of this odd yet welcoming place were lighting lanterns, torches, candles, hearths, or any other source of illumination or heat for themselves. It created layers of dots that grew up to the top of each Horizonback, like thousands of fireflies that had gathered and landed upon the tall structures, lighting up the night sky. Aezin stepped out behind those who had come out with Gelda. "Y’know, of all the places in Exandria I could be, every night when I’m steppin’ out on the back of Shelly, I am reminded how lucky I am to be where I am." He said happily, placing a hand on Gelda’s shoulder as she looked out at the lights, the sunset, the sea and the land. She nodded, then looking down at the families that had their children on the bridges and platforms, doing the same as the group and enjoying the scenery. It was quiet, save the crickets of the swamp beginning their symphony, and the frogs harmonizing with their chorus. After a few minutes, Gelda turned to everyone and spoke. "Well, whenever ya are ready for bed, I can get ya your keys. The rooms ain’t too big, but I try to make ‘em comfortable. Let me or Aezin know if ya need anythin’ else, alright?" She instructed and asked with a warm smile, and found her way back inside, Aezin following behind her. As everyone moved back into the building, Gelda brought out dessert - Keltaly. It was light, airy, sweet and delicious, and afterwards, she distributed keys. Gelda then went back behind the bar, helping Aezin move dishes and clean the space from the meal that had been eaten. Later, she guided each of you to your respective chambers for the evening. They were quaint cubbies, big enough for yourselves and your belongings, but without much else to boast of. Comfortable linens were provided, and were hand-stitched by Gelda, who made it a point to make you aware of it. With all of you now full on food, satiated with drinks, and having conversation, the night is yours here in the now still and unmoving settlement of Urzin.

OOC If there is any other roleplaying and discussion you would like to have with each other, please feel free! The next post will move us onto the following day and the meeting with Ogre Lord Buhfall II! Really enjoying your characters and interaction so far!

[Saratek]

Vanerua Galanodel Level 1 Twilight Cleric The Final Move The violent shake of the structure nearly tossed Van from her seat at the bar, but had learned how to handle unstable foundations. Reflexively reaching across the bar to grip the far edge, as the building slowly settled, the Pallid returned Aezin's look with one as seemingly unfazed as his own as the others, some of which clearly had spent their entire lives on solid ground, collected themselves. The only casualties had been what remained on the small plate in front of her as much of it was tossed astray, with some falling to the dirt-covered floor. Van's head popped up from beneath the edge of the bar as the goblin came bursting from the back. The elf had been cleaning up the mess made when the boisterous voice drew her attention. While the goblin certainly drew her attention simply from her choice of style alone, especially the makeup which was rare for most, the speak of 'lights' had triggered the Pallid's curiosity as she set the plate, now with all of the dropped food piled back atop it, on the bartop to be collected. Moving to take Gelda up on her invitation, Van offered the goblin a slight smile and bow of her head as she stepped out of the tavern into the quickly approaching night. There was a quiet stillness to the elf as she took in the horizon and what all lay beneath it. While it was certainly all something a first-timer would certainly remember for many, many years, it brought a smile to Van's face for entirely different reason. Watching all of the people moving about, the lights popping on, especially given how sensitive her sight was to such things, she wasn't consciously aware of how her hand came to rest upon the basketed hilt of the sword at her hip. From this high up, the overwhelming noise of the swaps seemed to fade into a far more peaceful murmur. Gelda's words as the show concluded drew the Pallid's attention back to the goblin. Lingering on the words a moment, Van stepped forward to inform Gelda and her son, "If it will not cause any trouble, I would like to walk Urzin for a while. I've never seen a city quite like this and fear that with tomorrow's meeting it may be some time before we can take in Urzin for all it has to offer." Van didn't imagine there would be any issues with doing so. While she may not have been given complete freedom upon her initial arrival, her willingness to take what the Ogre Lord had to offer had indebted her to him, ensuring she wasn't going to run out on the check. Unless there was a reason to, the Pallid would excuse herself from the others to wander the city for a bit, allowing the dark of night to truly set in before trying to find herself some dark corner on the edge of one the Horizonbacks to stare off into the night as she traced the design in her pendant and whispered prayers to her god as she rose into the sky.   Actions: Action: Reactions OA: Rapier: +4 Attack; 1d8+2 Piercing Rolls   Vanerua Galanodel, Level 1 Pallid Elf Twilight Cleric Initiative: +2 HP: 12/12, AC: 18 (Scale + Shield) Status Effect: None; Concentration: Speed: 30ft, Senses: Darkvision 300 ft; Passive Perception 16, Insight 21, Investigation 19 Languages: Celestial, Common, Elvish, Marquesian, Naush, Sylvan Saving Throws Str +0, Dex +2, Con +4, Int +2, prof-Wis +6, prof-Cha +2 Abilities: Str 11, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 14, Wis 18, Cha 11 Special Abilities: Grant Darkvision 300 feet onto up to 4 willing creatures within 10 feet of you for 1 hour. Usable 1 per Long Rest or with a Spell Slot.Eyes of the Night; Advantage on Next Initiative CheckVigilant Blessing: Target; Can cast Silvery Barbs and Misty Step once per Long Rest or with Appropriate-Leveled Spell SlotsFey Touched: Silvery Barbs, Misty Step Spellcasting: Spell Save DC 14, 2/2 - 1st Level Slots Cantrips: Guidance, Light, Sacred Flame, Word of Radiance Spells Known: Faerie Fire, Sleep, Silvery Barbs, Misty Step Spells Prepared: Bless, Detect Magic, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, Sanctuary Luck Points: 5 Notes: 6sp 4cp