By midday, they reached the gates of Stonehaven, a giant stone wall stretching between the mountains. The stonework was exquisite, spanning nearly 200 feet and towering to a height of at least 80 feet. Enormous double doors marking the middle of the wall were etched with ancient runes and stood defiantly against the relentless icy winds that broke against it.


This message was last edited by the GM at 05:18, Sun 06 Nov 2022.

"Stonehaven. Great. How do we get in?"

Celador shivered as the icy wind swirled around him and his companions. Approaching with cautious restraint, he examined the massive doors in hopes of finding some way to open them.

00:00, Today: DM, on behalf of Celador Qiris, rolled 15 using 1d20+3.  Perception: any means of opening the door?

Through squinted eyes in defense of the icy winds, Celador could make out a large metal knocker on the face of the door on the left. The apparatus was tiny in comparison to the enormous stone door but upon closer inspection, Celador found that it was large enough to require two hands to pull back and release against the face plate.

"Hope this works. It's freezing out here." Celador walked to the door, grabbed the knocker in his hand and then let it fall against the door.

As the knocker fell against the door, the trio outside first heard a low thud, then the ground murmured slightly below their feet. This vibration lasted for several uneasy seconds.

Finally a small door within the stone door, high above them slowly slid open. A helmeted dwarf, with a red-braided beard looked down upon the travelers. He extended a long metal cone out the opening, raising it to his mouth to be heard over the howling wind. "Who goes there?"

"I am Celador Qiris," the elf called into the swirling wind. "And these are my companions Liarel and Rugshaw. We journey south from the tower and look for refuge in Stonehaven."

"Rugshaw?!" the dwarf bellowed. "What makes that little nit think he would be welcome in Stonehaven after all the trouble he's caused us? Allowing an elf to pass through these gates is bad enough, but Rugshaw? That ain't going to happen."
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:30, Mon 12 Dec 2022.

Rugshaw backpedaled a step, then gave a bashful look toward Liarel. "I- I'm sure this gentleman, uhhh gentledwarf I guess I should say, has me mistaken with someone else." He took a deep breath and called aloud. "Surely, oh noble gatekeeper, you must recognize that I, Rugshaw, am a gatekeeper in my own right. Gatekeeper for the Mighty Kasch. As such, am I not a brother? And would you not offer shelter to a brother and his companions?"

Liarel rolled her eyes. Certainly this had no chance of success!

With the icy storm swirling around them, the trio waited for a response from the dwarven gatekeeper. There was none.

00:05, Today: Rugshaw rolled 42 using 1d100.  Can he convince the dwarf guard to open the gates (25% chance)?

After a long silent wait, Liarel stepped forward to make her plea. "Great gatekeeper," she started. "My companions and I are lost travelers and are told this is the way to Cathid. We mean you no harm and will be on our way quickly. I see now that you may have past issues with Rugshaw, but he serves as our guide and we can't afford to depart from him now. Please, good dwarf. If you let us in we shall put no burden on your great city and will depart shortly."

Celador stood behind her and nodded. While not speaking a word, he lent a certain amount of legitimacy to the druidess's request.

00:18, Today: Liarel rolled 21 using 2d20+2, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 19,15.  Negotiate with gatekeeper (aided by Celador).

"She speaks the truth," Celador added. "We'll be no trouble and on our way quickly."

The dwarf wrinkled his nose, his eyes darting from side to side as if calculating how much of a risk he was willing to take with the trio before him. "Swear on it then, elf. Swear on a branch or a bag of leaves or whatever it is your kind swears on. Swear you'll be gone in 24 hours and you'll take that good-for-nothing Rugshaw with you!"

Celador looked at Liarel and wrinkled his nose. He had hoped to leave Rugshaw behind in Stonehaven, but it looked like the old man was to be their traveling companion a bit longer. With the wind blowing as cold and hard as it was, however, they had little room to negotiate. "Very well. I swear upon my blade. We shall abide by your request."