For whatever reason you have found yourself in Esgaroth on the edge of Wilderland.  As you have settled in you have found a home away from home at 'The Pot and Barrel Inn' run by a charming woman of Lake Town named Kelda.

   This evening while enjoying yourself at the Inn a member of the town watch rushed in yelling "Fire-down in the market pool."  Racing out the door and down to the area you discovered a merchant ship down in the Market Pool (area 10 on map) had caught fire and it was about to quickly spread to some other smaller ships.  Alongside the waterfront you see a few individuals that are possible burn victims, and a few people that are struggling in the water trying to find something to cling to.

   After a few minutes you rush forward to the assistance of the beleaguered and bring the situation under control as more members of the Town Watch arrive to assist.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:37, Sun 04 Mar 2018.

You retire back to the Inn and discover that other town folk that assisted you are also patrons of the 'The Pot and Barrel'.  Kelda puts you near the roaing fire to warm those that are soaked to the core.  You all sit down together, introduce yourselves and over a beverage of your choice provided for free by Kelda talk about what you just did for Esgaroth.

OOC:  Time for a little bit of roleplaying here.  Pick 1 of your Skills and use that with a 'Roll' and if necessary a 'Mulligan' point to accomplish your task.  Then Roleplay out you telling the others what you did.

The others at the table are the party

Should start the first 'Real Adventure' Wednesday or Thursday.

Halldora sat at the table drinking a thick stout, its creamy head breaking over the rim of her flagon. She was tall, with brown hair, hough Bardings were more commonly blondes, and she wore it in a thick braid in back. Not that it was very visible, as she usually wore a cloak with a hood. Even now her hood was still up, because she had recently been outside. Beneath her cloak a leather jerkin could be seen.

She took a long drink from her flagon and then spoke. Her voice was clear and rich, an alto that matched her stature.

"Well, when I ran out, the sky was filled with smoke and I must tell you, I froze for a moment. All i could see was that villain Smaug flying again over Laketown. But then I heard it -- a child crying. That snapped me out of it right quick."

She pauses for dramatic effect, taking another drink from her flagon.

"So I ran through the smoke, half-blind, following the sound, when I found a clearing with some folks who'd been burned. I set about healing them right away. I lay my Healing Hands upon them, bandaging their wounds and soothing their troubled minds. And those I couldn't heal I treated, like my parents taught me. By the time I had finished, I turned and saw that you lot had done the hard work of handling the fire. Good work, that."

She raised her flagon to the others around the table in appreciation.

---

21:30, Today: Halldora of Dale rolled 19 using 1d20+5.  Medicine Mulligan
This message was last edited by the player at 02:40, Mon 12 Feb 2018.

Gundri wanted to keep quiet as she nursed her mug. "I really thought there was someone in there," she says for the dozenth time. She had seen someone, or rather thought she had, trapped inside the building. It had turned out to be a mannequin. Her heroic rescue had saved someone's dressmaking tool.

Asgrim thanked Kelda for the drink as he slid his chair closer to the fire. His blonde hair still dripping as he continued to shiver from being soaked to the bone.

"This should easily warm a body back up." Listening to the ladies as they spoke. "Not something I would fret about Gundri wih all the fire and commotion the shadows can play tricks on anyone's eyes."

Taking another long drink as he started to warm up and his clothing began to dry, "But really, you would think if someone was going to work on a merchant ship they would have learned how to swim. That one guy came close to drowning and taking me with him."

11:31, Today: Asgrim rolled 19 using 1d20.  Athletics (Swimming) Mulligan.

   The stout Dwarf stumps into the room, setting his sodden shield, and drenched rope, which he had used to haul in those striggling in the water, next to the fireplace to dry.  He took a warm tankard of mulled cider, as he assumed a chair near the fire.

"Hmph!"  He snorts.  "Damned fools to burn down their ship."  He had pulled many to the streets of Laketown by tieing rope to his heavy wooden great shield and tossing it amongst those in the water, for them to grab the floating shield.  No Dwarf that ever walked chose to swim, they were to dense for such things.

He pulls at the tankard of warm cider, enjoying the resite from the damp chill.

19:44, Today: Vidar son of Fror rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Survival.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:20, Thu 15 Feb 2018.

The elf had tried to avoid seating herself in the first place - a hint of apprehension in her voice, suspicion barely hidden beneath gentle and almost kind words. Only upon Kelda's insistence and the temptation of a spell of dry warmth does she finally relent, gracefully sitting down in one of the seats.

Despite her misgivings, she asks for wine without a moment of hesitation. Sipping on her drink, she draws back the hood of her well-worn cloak, revealing an elfin face marred by a number of scars and a glassy, blind eye. A mask adorns the bottom half of her face and she adjusts it before speaking, the dark material clinging to her lips.

"It is unfortunate that the men of Esgaroth lost a fine ship, and a pity that such an occurrence could happen," she speaks, her words very gentle and careful, - "Yet, I am pleased that among the men of this land there are still some who will heed the call of duty. Most importantly, the fire was contained and no others were hurt."

In the thick of smoke and chaos, she had stood among the villagers, organizing and encouraging them to douse the fires with any bucket they could find - and by the time the guard had arrived and the situation was under control, she slipped away into different pathways, taking her time before returning to the inn.

03:46, Today: Thiriswen rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Persuasion Mulligan.

As he sits in a chair near the fire, he orders hot stew, some welcome warmth from the damp.  Vidar idlely whittles while he waits, forming the wood blovk into a reliminary handel.  "How'd the boat catch fire?  I wonder."

Asgrim turned slightly allowing the fire to dry him somee more, "Don't recall hearing anyone say. Most likely an inattentive or careless worker knocked over a lantern or some thing. Probably never know."

The elf shrugs at the musing, sipping her wine by turning to the side and just barely lifting her mask. Setting her cup aside, her eyes fall on the mountain of a dwarf, and her mask seems to shift slightly as her lips curl into a smirk.

"If rumors are to be believed, then Erebor has surely fallen and mighty Smaug took wing from his mountainhome to fly over Esgaroth and burn this ship alone with dragonsfire in a fit of rage," she says, her voice still and gentle - yet with a decidedly amused edge to it, "Alas, I fear if that is true, we should hope ne'er to find out his motive, lest we tempt the dragon's notorious temper."

As she takes up her quiver of arrows from her side to begin examining them one by one for fire damage, the amusement dies down a little. Her trained eye scans over her weaponry, wiping traces of soot from delicate elven arroow and blade.


"I hope that it was an accident, - a sad fate for a good ship and it's goods, and a worse fate for those poor men that were injured," she says after a small period, "Yet if there is one constant, it is the treachery of wicked Men. I hope the town guard will let it be known to us what truly happened."

One of those gathered around the fire and greedily basking in its warmth was a woodman dressed in common clothing and a leather corselet, all damp from the firefighting activities at the Market pool.  He'd not gone into the water itself; rather he'd been seen leaping from one small, bobbing craft to another to reach a skiff whose own stern had caught fire after flaming rigging from the merchant vessel had fallen across the smaller boat.  There he'd helped a man and his young lad to safety before the whole skiff caught ablaze.

He thanked Kelda with a quiet word and a smile as he accepted a mug of warm cider, the smell of Vidar's own tankard having convinced the Woodman of his choice.  After a warming sip he responded to the others' comments. "I doubt this has much to do with evil Men," he said to the strangely covered elf, "but more to a careless moment with a lantern or stove.  There is aught of consequence to be gained from firing a boat in the Market pool."  He cast his blue eyes around the semi-circle of responders now gathered about the fire.  "I am glad for the townspeople we all could help in our own ways."

The Woodman's eyes then drifted to the block of wood in Vidar's hands and a small smile crossed his lips.  "I thought Dwarves whittled stone, friend?"


OOC:
17:30, Today: The Blackfeather rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Acrobatics (mulligan).

The razors edge of the knife continues shaving slices from the wood, slowly forming a knotwork handle.  "we carve many things to our liking"  He rumbles in reply to the human.  His own tankard steaming next to him.

The elf's eyes glance towards the odd Man to her side. Leaning back into the shadows, occasionally looking away to sip her wine by pulling down her mask, she muses on the answer. Eventually, she speaks.

"Things are not usually so simple. A ship gone today may mean benefits tomorrow - many Men can so oft be vile to their kin and weave tangled webs," she says, distantly, "Yet you are likely correct - accidents are common. I merely hope this is one."

Great introductions and start to the party-

XP below:


[Private to Halldora of Dale: Halladora:   190 XP]

[Private to Gundri Coopersson: Gundri:  100 XP]

[Private to Vidar son of Fror: Vidar son of Fror: Vidar:  180 XP]

[Private to Thiriswen: Thiriswen: Thirswen:  180 XP]

[Private to The Blackfeather: Blackfeather: 240 XP]

[Private to Asgrim:  Asgrim:  100 GP]