[Hybrid] DnD 3.5: Den of Heroes

[Rabbit]

Here is the place to post in character for the Den of Heroes game. If you have any questions about character creation, rules, or other general stuff you should do it in the other thread.

So let’s start this thread with Michael, the only survivor...


The journey back to Duvik’s Pass is a hard one. Not only must Ziff carry the burden of so many dead, but he and Brass have contracted Beggar’s Plague.

After three long days and nights of travel they arrive at the gates of Duvik’s Pass. The relief to be somewhere safe hits Ziff hard as his body gives in to weariness. Entering through the main gates the gnome feels his body collapse and all goes black…

Ziff awakens lying on a cot in a stone room. His mouth feels dry and sore, but the blisters that cover his body have been cleaned and dressed. As he turns his head Ziff can see that Father Samual is sitting beside him. The half elf pours water into a cup and offers it to Ziff.

“Here, drink slowly…” the half-elf says with comfort in his voice though his eyes show exhaustion and worry. “Ziff, what happened out there? Where are the others?”

[michael]

Upon hearing the question, a pained look comes over Ziff's weary face, and he turns away from the cleric. "You shouldn't have sent the likes of us, Father. We weren't good enough."

Those words hang in the air, and it is a long silence before the broken gnome begins his tale. He begins with the bloody body of Jassum Tungsten, and the deafening bang that accompanied his discovery. He tells of the kobold nomads, covered in boils, defending their makeshift home. He tells of the rising undead, and of the festering plague that robbed their strength, and of the cloud of darkness that felled his brothers-in-arms, one by one. He tells of everything but one unspeakable tragedy, and that is something he'll never tell to anyone. And finally, he tells of his own fearful retreat, and the last time he laid eyes on one of his comrades.

"I almost went back with him. If I didn't have to look over Sir Stoutmuzzle, I think I would have. But none of us deserve such a valiant death anyways...

"I waited for half a day by the mouth of the mine, just to see if Duin might come back. ...He never did."

As the conversation ends, and Father Samual is about to leave, Sir Ziffaultabrand Aethelbald Tottlebach finally gathers the courage to ask the question. "Father? How is Lord Stoutmuzzle? How is Brass?"

[Rabbit]

As Sir Ziffaultabrand recounts his tale Father Samual listens with practiced patients and gives soft encouragement whenever the gnome falls silent. Now is not the time for a field report, but Father Samual knows the value of confession. Shame in the guise of silence need not burden the soul.

After Sir Ziffaultabrand finishes his account of events the half-elf’s eyes search the gnome’s face. Father Samual’s mouth opens as if to speak, but then closes again. Putting a firm hand on the gnome’s shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze the cleric rises from his seat.

“I must speak to the mayor… and Captain Kurdow.” Father Samual says walking to the door.

"Father? How is Lord Stoutmuzzle? How is Brass?"

“Ah yes, I almost forgot.” Says Father Samual letting a smile spread across his face. Before Father Samual can fully open the door Lord Stoutmuzzle bulls his way into the room pushing the door open and knocking the cleric a few steps back. The large dog rushes in and throws its front paws onto the bed, his massive tongue licking Ziff’s face.

“Brass seems to have made a full recovery. Don’t worry, you’re not contagious,” says Father Samual then steps out of the room, “I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

[micahel, if you want to post more after this you can. Otherwise I am going to post a little blurb for each of you setting up your intro into the next adventure soon. It will take place a few days after this scene.]

[Rabbit]

Enrich: Brother Marle

It has only been a week since you arrived in the small town of Duvik’s Pass. An outbreak of Beggar’s Plague has been spreading for the past four months. Unable to quell the disease himself the local Cleric sent a request for aid to Marsh Bay. Your superiors were reluctant to grant you leave at first. The Church Administrators preferred to appoint one of the younger less established clergy though with enough of your insistence they agreed to send you.

“Go on then, stretch your legs a bit.” The bishop told you from behind his desk. “Do what you can then come back to us. I want you available to light the candles for the Autumn Sunset Festival next month.”

But when you arrived in Duvik’s Pass you found the small town in more dire need than anticipated. Nearly a fourth of the town was infected. Crops had withered before the harvest leaving the winter rations dangerously low. Herd animals lay dying in the fields.

When your caravan arrived you were greeted by a half-elf Pelorian Cleric who introduced himself as Father Samual. The Temple of Pelor, which was quit the impressive building for such a small town, was overpopulated with the sick, and Father Samual put you right to work. For the past five days you have hardly had time to leave the temple. Daily by noon your spells have are been converted to healing just to keep the sick alive. While not sick yourself, you are exhausted. Father Samual and his two acolytes share your exhaustion, but tend to the sick endlessly.

On your fifth day in town Father Samual asks you to join him in his private chambers. The round room, while modest, is one of the larger rooms in temple. A single bed rests against the wall with two seats and a table nearby. A alter to the Sun God is centered in the room and takes up most of the area. A well polished suit of full plate and a finely crafted mace hang on the wall opposite the bed.

“Please have a seat.” The half-elf says as he rests himself onto one of the chairs. “I wanted to thank you for all the help you’ve done here. Pelor has blessed us with your presence.”

The cleric pours two cups of mead. “I have never been much of a drinker myself, but ever since the water was declared unclean imported alcohol has become a staple. Please join me?”

As he sips his drink Father Samual seems all too happy to absorb the silence and stillness of the room. Eventually he speaks again. “Things are grim here Brother Marle, even more than you realize… tell me, what is your experience with undeath?”

Icnivad: Kuvpax Drolwaph
The Sorcerers of Marsh Bay were very excited to send you to Duvik’s Pass once they heard a local tribe of kobalds were involved. Along with a checklist and long list of queries they gave you a letter to deliver to a member of their organization.

“Deliver this letter to Andolyn Brester.” One of the sorcerers told you. “Make your intentions and relationship to us known to her and she will see to your lodging as well as any other needs you have in Duvik’s Pass.”

The two weeks journey to Duvik’s Pass was a depressing one. The caravan you travelled with was sparse as most merchants had boycotted the town until the plague subsided. It was also noteworthy that the farther you travelled from Marsh Bay the more homogeneous the population became, so many plainly dressed humans. The faces that meet you appear increasingly cold and as you turn on a crossroads heading into the Northern hills you glimpse the words, “Orc’s Gallows” painted on an old road sign.

Once inside the Gates of Duvik’s Pass a city guard is able to direct you to Andolyn Brester’s residence. A town this small it is not so surprising that even a soldier would know the town’s arcanists. A walk down the nearly deserted main street places you at the doorstop of a tavern, “Gendrew’s Gourmet.” It is a two story building and the city guard informed you that Andolyn resided here. You enter the main doors of the tavern. The room is nearly empty of patrons and a heavy set dwarf stands behind the bar. With his bearded chin resting on one hand he looks down at a large text spread open on the bar.

Seeing a lone kobald enter the dwarf looks up from his reading but his expression does not change. “Can I help you?” the dwarf asks.

Michael: Sir Ziffaultabrand Aethelbald Tottlebach

It has been two weeks since your return to Duvik’s Pass. Much of that time you were unconscious or too sick to leave the Temple of Pelor’s infirmiry. Finally you are able to that you were able to walk out on your own two feet. Within the day you receive a request from Captain Kurdow asking for a meeting.

Riding up to Fort Duvik with your mount and companion under you a crisp autumn air breath blows at your back. The fort is on the outer rim of town and shares a portion of its defensive wall with Duviks Pass township. As you approach the entrance you can hear voices from behind and the gate opens enough to allow you entry.

The gates quickly closes behind you and the sparseness of the militia is immediately evident. Only a handful of soldiers are stationed throughout the fort when there are usually twice that many.

“Ho, soldier!” a voice calls out to you from your right. Looking in that direction you can see Captain Kurdow standing in the stables. He lifts a hand from the horse he is grooming and beckons you come closer.

“Sir Ziffaultabrand Aethelbald Tottlebach,” he says lowering his voice to a conversational tone, “How do you fare?”

Reefwood:
The days of fall are quickly passing and if one is to stay alive during a winter in the Serpentcoil Mountains they will need to be well supplied. These facts are on your mind as you approach Fort Pike Line which serves as a dividing wall between the human kingdom of Dudwell and the orc wilderness. You are met at the gate with suspicion, more than usual.

The guards carefully look you over for several minutes and question you extensively about where you are coming from before allowing you entrance. Once inside they inform you that the nearby city of Duvik’s Pass is suffering from an outbreak of Beggar’s Plague and even though you came from the opposite direction all military stations have been ordered into high alert, the fort at Duvik’s Pass has even established quarantine.
Inside Fort Pike Line there is a large building right inside the gates. It serves as an outpost way-station for supplies and anyone passing through Pike Line must sign the registry. The process is familiar enough for you as you have done so multiple times.

Inside the room is a bored looking human. He wears the clothes of a mid-ranked soldier but has the chubby demeanor of a merchant. Looking you up and down he sizes up your buying power. After reaching a conclusion he nudges a large book on the counter beside him. “Don’t forget to sign the registry.”

The room has an assortment of supplies needed for frontier living. There is a posting board by the door with several weather worn wanted posters and pinned in the center a fresh piece of paper stands out.

“Needed Urgently: Strapping individuals to investigate and resolve possible monsterous infestation of silver mines. Ample reward for satisfactory work. Apply immediately to Fort Duvik, Duvik’s Pass.
Endoresed and backed by Doverspeak Industries”

[icnivad]

Kuvpax Drolwaph

Kuvpax worries little about the cold stares along the trip--he is related to dragons, after all, and they are not--although he remains warry of anyone that looks like they might attack him.

Kuvpax glances around the bar briefly for any females matching Andolyn's description and responds to the dwarf with a slight nod, "Yes, perhaps you can. I'm looking for Andolyn Brester. Is she around?"

[michael]

Sir Ziffaultabrand Aethelbald Tottlebach

"Ah, Captain Kurdow. Please, Ziff will suit me fine. Lord Stoutmuzzle has always been much more insistent on maintaining honorifics than I. As to your question, I am... recovering. I certainly seem to be faring better than the fort's garrisons. If you would permit me the question, is there some operation underway? Or has the plague truly brought this much havoc to the ranks?"

[Enric]

Brother Marle

Marle coughs quietly, glances at the cleric, and rises to his feet. He paces back and forth across the room with an almost imperceptible limp. Nearly a minute passes before he stops and fixes Father Samael with his gaze.

"None, Father. None at all. I've read the texts, of course, but my life in the church has never extended far beyond the sanctuary walls. Still, if the rumors are true, if something... unnatural has come to the valley, I swear before Pelor himself that I will do everything in my power to stop it."

[reefwood]

May 27, 2009 17:55:16 GMT -5 Rabbit said:

Reefwood:
The days of fall are quickly passing and if one is to stay alive during a winter in the Serpentcoil Mountains they will need to be well supplied. These facts are on your mind as you approach Fort Pike Line which serves as a dividing wall between the human kingdom of Dudwell and the orc wilderness. You are met at the gate with suspicion, more than usual.

The guards carefully look you over for several minutes and question you extensively about where you are coming from before allowing you entrance. Once inside they inform you that the nearby city of Duvik’s Pass is suffering from an outbreak of Beggar’s Plague and even though you came from the opposite direction all military stations have been ordered into high alert, the fort at Duvik’s Pass has even established quarantine.
Inside Fort Pike Line there is a large building right inside the gates. It serves as an outpost way-station for supplies and anyone passing through Pike Line must sign the registry. The process is familiar enough for you as you have done so multiple times.

Inside the room is a bored looking human. He wears the clothes of a mid-ranked soldier but has the chubby demeanor of a merchant. Looking you up and down he sizes up your buying power. After reaching a conclusion he nudges a large book on the counter beside him. “Don’t forget to sign the registry.”

The room has an assortment of supplies needed for frontier living. There is a posting board by the door with several weather worn wanted posters and pinned in the center a fresh piece of paper stands out.

“Needed Urgently: Strapping individuals to investigate and resolve possible monsterous infestation of silver mines. Ample reward for satisfactory work. Apply immediately to Fort Duvik, Duvik’s Pass.
Endoresed and backed by Doverspeak Industries”

Davren Prell

The signs of autumn were pointing toward a particularly long, harsh winter in the mountains. Davren knew he would need more supplies than usual. Perhaps more than he could carry himself. Horses didn't come cheap, and grumpy mules were not to his liking. Perhaps this reward would cover his expenses, and maybe he could even come away with a couple pouchfuls of silver.

Davren bent down to sign the registry but didn't even look at the soldier again before heading out the door and embarking to Duvik's Pass.

[Rabbit]

"Gendrew's Gourmet - Tavern, Spirits, and Lodging" entering the tavern you note that the wooden sign hanging above the door has a chalk strike through some of the writing...

Within a few days after the incidents at Gendrew’s Gourmat, Gendrew and Andolyn have the tavern cleaned and reopened. Word spreads through Duvik’s Pass about all the happenings including a home invading imp and magical objects running amok.

Now, you five adventurers sit around a corner table of the main hall. Looking around the relaxed tavern it is hard to believe that just days ago you where fighting a raging pastry in the basement. But the excitement did seem to stir up the locals. Spread throughout the room locals sit; enjoying the warmth of a large fire, sipping mead, and some look around the room whispering about the ‘haunted’ tavern. Also, the first snow came today and it clings to the ground outside. It looks to be an early winter.

A few groups of note;
Captain Kurdow and two of his lieutenants sit with a table to themselves. They look to be enjoying some drinks and laughs on their leisure time.

Father Samual (a rare sight outside the temple) has just come in. He shakes off some flakes of snow from his cloak and is now speaking casually to Andolyn who is tending the bar.

Gendrew is moving about the room serving drinks and bringing out occasional plates of food. The dwarf looks to be managing the crowd, but also seems a bit flustered without the help of his, recently damaged, animated assistants.

Two local farmers share a table with three villagers. With expressive gestures and excited voices the two farmers tell the villagers about their involvement in the recent events. One is saying something about a swarm of bats chasing him down Main Street…

[This is an open ended in-character segment. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves, go talk to an NPC, or call an NPC over. And if you would like to chat with someone at a different location/time just let me know and I can write up a scene. This scene takes place after the Calzone Golem adventure, but this and any other threads starting now are going to be ‘time line flexible.’]

[michael]

As Ziff drinks with his comrades in Gendrew's bar, he feels happy for the first time in recent memory. Drinking and laughing over the sheer ridiculousness of their most recent adventure, the plague seems a lifetime ago, as do the events associated with it. While his experience in Duvik's Mine will be with him forever, he is no longer crushed by the weight of his mistakes.

Throughout the evening, the gnome makes frequent glances towards the bar, waiting for a time when the barkeep and Andolyn are free to talk. Finally, the moment comes, and with a confidence and bravado he thought lost, he excuses himself from the table and approaches Gendrew and his sorceress partner. After the brief exchange of pleasantries and small talk, Ziffaultabrand puts on a serious face.

"Sir, Madam, I have a business proposition for you."

[Enric]

Brother Marle shares a few words and a welcoming embrace with Father Samual. Soon, though, he's making his way around the tavern, debating the qualities of Gendrew's various ales at one table, wryly recounting the less-than-graceful moments from his last adventure at another - and always watching Ziff out of the corner of his eye. It warms the priest's heart to see the gnome shaking off some of the gloom that has been plaguing him. Marle doesn't know exactly what happened down in the mines, but it's clear that the little druid has been carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders.

[Rabbit]

Jun 5, 2009 16:22:14 GMT -5 michael said:

Throughout the evening, the gnome makes frequent glances towards the bar, waiting for a time when the barkeep and Andolyn are free to talk. Finally, the moment comes, and with a confidence and bravado he thought lost, he excuses himself from the table and approaches Gendrew and his sorceress partner. After the brief exchange of pleasantries and small talk, Ziffaultabrand puts on a serious face.

"Sir, Madam, I have a business proposition for you.""

Ziff finds his moment when Gendrew brings a tray of empty glasses over to the bar. The dwarf and Andolyn exchange a few words about the beer stock then greet Ziff as he approches. Gendrew listens to Ziff talk but only looks up at the last comment. Andolyn is being more attentive as she plays the role of barkeep and is also the first to reply.

“Oh? And what kind of business might one of the heroes of Duvik’s Pass want with two simple tavern owners?” the sorceress asks with humor in her voice.

[icnivad]

Kuvpax sips his mead, letting the sweet fermented nectar sit in is mouth for a brief second before it trickles down his throat. His tongue occasionally flicks out as if tasting the air. The kobold doesn't seem particularly intent on talking to anyone in the bar. While quiet, his keen eyes and ears miss little of what is happening around the tavern. His eyebrow raise ever so slightly at Ziff's request.

[michael]

Ziff clears his throat and folds his hands behind his back in preparation for his speech. As he talks, he paces back and forth along a small strip of the floor, all the while keeping his head pointed towards his audience, like a general addressing the troops.

"It is clear that the recent commotion has taken its toll on this fine establishment. Without the aid of many of your enchantments, you are left woefully understaffed and overworked. As remedy to this, I offer you our services, Lord Stoutmuzzle's and mine.

Brass is already trained to fetch, and it would be little effort to teach him to bring food and drinks to the patrons. As for myself, I could be considerably more flexible, and able to serve in whatever capacity you might require. Additionally, as local heroes, we're both quite popular of late. Brass is especially loved by the townsfolk. Why, he's practically hounded everywhere he goes."

Ziff gives a light snicker at his pun and continues.

"As such, I believe that our presence will not only reduce your own workload, but also serve to draw in customers."

At this, Ziff stops his pacing and leans against the bar, smiling up at his potential employers.

"I'm sure I know what you must be thinking now. 'What recompense can we offer for these wonderful services?' And on that point, I believe you will be quite pleased. I am prepared to forgo any weekly wage for both myself and Brass. Instead, I ask only for a one-time favor from the lovely Andolyn. I'm sure the madam is familiar with permanency spells? And the Magic Fang spell? Well, I'm sure you can see where I'm headed.

And should that option prove unworkable, I'm sure we can come to another exchange. Perhaps I could receive some light training spellcraft, or knowledge of the Arcane? I'm quite flexible, really. However long you desire my services, in exchange for whatever payment you believe is fair."

[reefwood]

Davren remains in his seat. In the corner of the corner table. Observing. He is still not used to being around so many people, and while he is not particularly suspicious of the townsfolk, he has not conversed with many others than those who joined him in the mine. More out of ineptitude than anything else and despite all the revelry around them.

Of particular interest are the gnome and kobold. He had grown quite accustomed in the mountains to killing those of small stature. Or at least preventing the goblins from harming others, including himself. He'd even come across some kobold colonies now and again but knew to stay away from their trap-laced lairs. However, Ziff and Kuvpax certainly seemed to be anomalies of their respective peoples. At least Kuvpax was like no other kobold that Davren had encountered, and Ziff... well, he was unlike any other person he'd come across .