Daggerford

Situated on the flood plains of the Delimbiyr and built against the side of a low hill, Daggerford is a small, walled community dominated by the small castle of the local duke. The city is sparsely inhabited but strategically located where the High Road crosses the Delimbiyr River on the south side of the ford.

This self-styled city is a town of about 500 folk. The town is the largest stop on the High Road between Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate. It's home to human craftsmen, a few halflings, and a handful of folk of other races. There are about 20 farming hamlets within a day's walk of Daggerford (15-20 miles), each of which is home to around five families. Each hamlet has a fortified building where the residents retreat in case of raids. There are also isolated farms and a few estates of minor nobility. In all, about 1,200 people depend on the Daggerford market for goods they can’t make themselves.

Daggerford has three major geographical divisions. The first area is the town itself, which fills the western half of the walls. The second region is somewhat higher than the town and is known as the Commons, which is nothing more than a large pasture. The third area, located at the center of the Commons, is the castle of the Duke of Dag- gerford. Much of the castle has been recently rebuilt by a family of dwarves, making it somewhat more majestic and splendid than might be expected of a town the size of Daggerford.

Most of the town's buildings are built on the low ground below the hill holding the castle. The area surrounding the castle is almost entirely given over to the Commons, where horses and cattle graze in times of siege or river floods.

Most of the buildings are made of wood and thatch, but since Derval Ironeater's family brought their stone working skills to town a century ago, a number of people have built in stone. The duke, for instance, replaced the last wood in his castle with stone, the wall towers were rebuilt in stone, several important town buildings have been built or re- built in stone, and the protective walls that surround Daggerford are all of stone.

Most of the residences in the crowded living areas are still made of wood, and placement of these wooden structures is sometimes rearranged due to the occasional fire. Fortunately, proximity to the river allows the Watermen's Guild to quench fires quickly.

Duke Pwyll Daggerford is seldom seen in town. He’s either out hunting, in the castle planning how to defend his land, or discovering new ways to enrich his family and his people by shrewd investments. There are recurring plans to dredge the river and make Daggerford an important harbor in order to compete with nearby Waterdeep.
A lot of travelers stop in Daggerford at one time or another, using it as a base to explore the whole north. The bustle of Waterdeep seems far too distracting for the average adventurer, meaning that a smaller, more accessible town is desired. Daggerford strives to meet the demands of catering to adventurers, which both keeps its surrounding lands safe and keeps local merchants happy.

When a crisis is at hand, the town has two elements to defend itself. The first is the local militia. Because of the occasional menace from the Lizard Marshes to the west and the eastern High Moors, this militia is fairly large and reasonably well-trained. Still, this group is only the second line of defense.
The main force that can be directed at an enemy is the 3rd Company, the High Guards of Waterdeep. This band of 100 skilled warriors is stationed in Daggerford but spends most of its time patrolling the countryside. The 3rd Company is theoretically under the command of the Duke of Daggerford, but it owes fealty to the Lords of Waterdeep.

Defenses
By agreement with the duke, the town maintains its own militia, trained by Sherlen Spearslayer. Every healthy human resident of the town between the ages of 15 and 35 is required to be a member of the militia. Halflings between 22 and 60, dwarves be- tween 35 and 120, gnomes between 50 and 250, and elves between 150 and 500 must also serve 20 years in the militia. Only pregnant women and mothers with young children are excused, and then only until the children are five years old. The territory around Daggerford is occasionally besieged by evil invaders, and everyone must be ready to defend their homes and lives.

Transients of the right age find themselves either training with the militia or asked to leave town. If a person stays longer than two weeks, a soldier shows up to induct him. Of course, the person can try to evade this duty, but this is difficult in a town the size of Daggerford. Anyone can avoid the duty by paying the expenses of another militiaman, but most residents spend the time rather than the money.
Those living in outlying areas are also expected to have militia training and duty. This is mainly accomplished by local musters, usually at the estate of a local baron or nearby fortification. Representatives of the Daggerford militia ride out to the muster and help with the training.

New militia recruits are taught to ride and to use a spear. Each militiaman is given one spear and one suit of studded leather armor. If the armor is ruined in any way, the militiaman must replace it. Spears are replaced free.

Militia duty is actually quite light, except in times of trouble. Militia members must show up for training at least one day per month. Some come more often and gain profi- ciency earlier than their peers. The militia is split up into various troops, and these troops meet on different days. Generally, an inexperienced soldier trains while more ex- perienced ones are on guard duty. Militia troops must stand guard three days out of the month, acting as both a street patrol and wall guard. Usually, at least two veteran troops are on duty on any given day, while the new troops train and help the veterans.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:50, Mon 08 June 2020.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 1):

Uktar 3, 1357

Evening

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Temperature:
Low: 20
High: 50

Winds: From tropics at 30 mph.

Precipitation: No Precipitation

Relative Humidity:
Morning: Low
Evening: Moderate

Dawn is at: 7:00

Number of daylight hours: 10.00

Selûne: 3rd Qtr

---

Seven hours of sunlight have passed since departing Liam's Hold, and three more remain when the waters of the Delimbyr and the walls of Daggerford greet the eyes of the company.  Here the road is busier with many a passerby attending to this or that errand before the close of day.

Within lies hearth, home, masters, superiors, and the fair haired Mistress of the Militia Sherlen Spearslayer.  The Duke's pennant flies in residence, and the town is at peace.

What do you do?

I know that this is an odd time, but one of the things I'd like us to do over the next week or so is give some thought to how we could transition to a character-arc based experience model as described in the supplement I made available to you.  I'm going to take on some character arcs for the NPCs, but I'm going to limit NPCs to one at a time.  This should guarantee that they acquire XP at a slower rate to PCs and prevent their story from overwhelming the PCs game while still enabling them to be round characters rather than flat--the better to interact with.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:56, Mon 08 June 2020.

Heluvianal is both Excited and Apprehensive about arriving back in Daggerford.  Excited because for some reason, he likes the place, Apprehensive because he is going back to his Master having not gained any more training, although he is tempted to emphasise the dangers of the perilous solo journey he under took.

Tolantra smiled as they rode up to Daggerford. This was as close to a home as she had on the surface, and after eating trail rations or the awful food of Bowshot's inn for tendays, it was good to be back where there was decent food.

She gave a bit of thought about where she would be sleeping that night. Previously she had been bunking with one of the Ironeaters. It was very much a dwarven thing to do, but it was a strain keeping up her masculine disguise at such close, prolonged proximity. Fortunately, unlike last time, she wasn't broke. Far from it. She intended to rent a room in an inn for a few days, and then see about buying a place of her own. She could rent it out if she ended up spending much of her time elsewhere, and it would be nice to have somewhere she could lock the doors and just be herself.

Or maybe, her thoughts continued to run as she rode towards the inn, she would commission the Ironeaters to build a proper house out of stone. Most of the buildings in town were wood, and she was a little hesitant to lay coin by into such flimsy construction. It was something to think about.

Once she had her room rented and her gear stowed, she went back out into the town. She wanted to catch up on the news with Derval, and she wanted to listen to what was being said in the taverns. The battle with the red priest hadn't been very long ago, but her hands were already itching to face down another monster. Maybe she'd hear of something that had come down from the moors.

Edrie, are you hesitant to visit Master Ondabarl?  I'm not sure if I completed what I was supposed to be doing or not.  Please don't tell the others that I am more than the cleaner, it has its uses
This message was lightly edited by the player at 12:13, Sun 14 June 2020.

There are four Inns in town:

The Black Stone--Along the North Wall, a low rent joint under new ownership after a poisoner killed 30 residents in a botched assassination attempt
The Chateau Elite--the locals whisper at what exotic things may take place on a nightly basis in this place.  A local Chauntean friar regularly refers to it as a decadent symptom degrading the moral character of the people. At 400gp per night, this probably isn't what you're looking for.
The Daggerford--Nearest the gate, located in the Caravan quarter, a workman's establishment
The Dragonback--Run by a former adventurer and caters to travelers of the wilderness.  According to rumor, the owner has a pet dire wolf that helps keep the peace.

There are a few other places that qualify not as Inns but as Tenements:

Bjorn's Tenement: A formerly grand private estate that's been carved up internally into low-rent housing.  Owned by a Waterdhavian who sends guards monthly to collect the rents.

Pascal's Tement: A ramshackle four story building renting 8 rooms per floor. It's a place that the Daggerford militia avoid. There's a general understanding that Pascal's residents aren't the sort that would be allowed to rent elsewhere.

So, you're heading directly to see Delfen Ondabarl?

Edrie places her fingertip on the side of her nose and smiles.  Then breaks into a bit of a giggle.

"I rent a room from Zeno when I'm in town.  He's a retired mercenary and rents rooms to young ladies trying to make their way in the city.  He charges little, but expects his hours and rules to be followed promptly. Celadhel, I could see if there's an opening? It's in the North East corner of town."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:21, Mon 15 June 2020.

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 8):

He could Kiss her... NO, wait, why did that thought...stop that he chides himself, the words remaining in his head.
I'll let him know you are in town and just settling up with the others.  I'll meet you at your place later once I've checked in.  I'll let the master know I have to meet this group too.
Heluvianal goes straight to his masters tower and reports in.  He doesn't go into too much detail but enough so that Master Delfen Ondabarl doesn't ask too many questions.  The once settled and eaten, he heads towards Edrie.

Heluvianal had spent many a night traversing the roofs and streets or Daggerford, some days too so he could get his bearings.  His master sometimes liked to know what certain people were doing, so the Wild Elf used the opportunities to train his other skills.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 23:03, Mon 15 June 2020.

Tolantra took a room at the Dragonback. As a place frequented by people who wandered away from the road, it was probably the best place to hear word of new threats arising.

"And I shall return to the Harvest House" he lifts Rewis' letter in his thick farmer's hand.  "Both my cell and my duty there lie. Tol, will you check with Sherlen as to the date of our next service?  And Celadhel will need to be added to the rolls."

Celadhel bows with the grace of a willow in the wind. "I'm honored, but I have several kinswomen here in town. Aswansea, Shalendra, and Kira.  I intend to inquire after Shalendra first.  Of all the three she is the most in touch with the world of men, though her father, my Great-Grand-Sire, does not approve of the manner in which she plies her trade."  She smiles slightly, and it causes the hearts of men to race, "I've never seen her in her plates and plumes with lance and shield." She touches a flawless finger to full lips to hide her mirth. "The sight of it will fill me with joy, I think!"

"Certainly." Tolantra said. She figured she would have some time between catching up with Dergal and hearing the latest gossip over evenfeast to find Sherlen and explain what happened.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:46, Thu 25 June 2020.

Delfen's Tower is built right into the North wall of Daggerford.  While in pattern it is clearly intended to be one of the watch towers that stud the defenses, this tower is much larger and ornate.  Delfen made a significant contribution to the wall's construction and swore fealty to the Duke in order to accommodate his tower.  You also know that there is a secret of the tower--a secret door that leads straight through the wall and into the tower.

You possess a key that enables entry, but does not unlock every door within. The bottom floor is a stable for his riding mule and storage rooms--a root cellar and larder, a hand cart and saddle, a silk banner with funny looking writing on it, and a few faggots of wood.

The second floor is where work and instruction takes place.  This is where you spend your time scrubbing floors in silence and where he and all of his carefully selected female apprentices practice their Art.

Finally there is the top floor which is the private residence of Delfen "Yellowknife" Ondabarl where you take your lessons long after the other apprentices leave. Here the floors are thickly carpeted with intricate wool rugs from the South.  Tapestries insulate the walls and depict a dozen lands from a dozen times.  Skulls, horns, banners, and blades hang, are displayed, or forgotten in various corners.

It is here that you find him reading a chapbook adventure romance from a series he follows that is printed in Neverwinter.

The middle aged mage smacks his lips, dog ears a page, sets it to the side, and takes you in from tip-to-toe in a glance.  "You're back."

This four-story building is built of chest-high fieldstone walls topped with wooden walls built of thick timbers and dark, small-paned green leaded-glass windows. A creaking sign of grayed wood hangs over the door. The first floor is a warm and cozy common room, marked by the fierce-looking dragon skull hanging over the fireplace and battered shields and banners hanging from the walls. A dozen plain wooden trestles are jammed in the room. The upper floors hold more than a dozen rooms, some of which are high enough to see the River Delimbiyr beyond the walls.

The taciturn innkeeper of the Dragonback Inn is Daurant “Dragonback” Ironstar¹, the heavyset second cousin of Derval Ironeater.

In terms of price, this would be a mid-range inn in a metropolis like Waterdeep.  In Daggerford it frequently seems high priced.  Wealthy merchants stay here when passing through, but the regular custom is rangers, trail masters, cartographers, prized hunters, and even the odd Uthgardt that drifts this far south.  Daurant likes having access to news, and likes the sort of folks that make a living on the road and not the cities at the ends of them.  You get a sense that they get a healthy discount depending on the frequency and reliability of their news.


¹There's dwarf related lore associated with Clan Ironstar.  We can start with a raw wisdom check, but if you have any associated knowledge proficienies, that would could modify the result in your favor.

Tolantra bought a room for a ride. It was pricy, but she was rolling in drow coin (not to mention orc, goblin, and priest coin), and she wasn't in the mood for somewhere with bugs and hard mattresses. She stored her pack and gear in the room, and changed into dry clothing. It had been a brutal couple of travel days, and she was looking forward to having everything dried out and warm.

Once she was changed, however, she put her armor back on and slid her warhammer into her belt. As a priestess of Haela she felt a sacred duty to be ready to fight at a moment's notice. One never knew when an ogre was going to break down the door of the tavern you were feasting in. And besides, it helped conceal her gender.

While there was still some daylight she ventured out to find Sherlen. Daggerford's military leader deserved to know of the nest they had rooted out to the south, and the change in her squad. She also wanted to swing by Garth's family and let them know where he was, since to the best of her knowledge he hadn't sent them any word.

Once that was done, she ambled her way back to the Dragonback and settled down at a table for some evenfeast. And if she could find a table where she could knock back a couple of pints and hear word of the road, so much the better.

((ooc: Not sure how much you want to rp the visit with Sherlen and Garth's folks. I'm up for as much or as little as you want.

Ancient Dwarven History check for Clan Ironstar. 1d20 = 15. Success.))
This message was last edited by the player at 02:23, Wed 17 June 2020.

Clan Ironstar is an a mythic clan that ruled a small but wealthy nation beneath four mountain peaks in the North.  The clan's fame is based on two equally impossible feats of smithing.  First, it was clan Ironstar that first mastered the making of Darksteel which imbues weapons with the essence of lightning, armor with the ability to resist acid, and which easily takes arcane enchantments. It is known by its silvery hue when polished or cut, but its exposed surfaces have a deep, gleaming purple luster.

The second feat was that Clan Ironstar mastered the skill of imbuing mundane items with arcane enchantments... dwarf wizards.

Because their wealth was so vast and their knowledge so coveted, few of the survivors of the Fall of Ironstar reveal their lineage.  It is said that a colony of the Ironstar dwarves dwells within the borders of the Elven land of Evereska.

((I'm totally fine Roleplaying those encounters.  Sherlen is a very good recurring NPC, and I believe Garth and the Delimbyr family might have good recurrences as well.  As both a DM and a player, I rather enjoy the intricacies and bonds formed within the campaign world and so I tend to want to play those.  But as a DM my game is for your enjoyment, so if you don't have interest in doing that (as with the roadside stops on the way to Daggerford), just let me know and I can move along.))

When she remembered why the Ironstar name was ringing bells in her head, Tolantra could feel her eyes widen. When there was no one else within listening distance, she went over to Daurant. "Moradin be praised. Ironstar? The Ironstars? The longbeards back in my clanhome said they were wiped out. Do they still live?"

((ooc: Okay, I'm happy to rp both Sherlen and Garth's family.))
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Thu 25 June 2020.

Some innkeepers were lively and folksy.  Not Dauraunt. He let his establishment--his craft speak for him. Flapping lips can put work to a stop in a hurry. Tending an inn wasn't the same as breaking a dragon for flight, but you put your all into it.  Make something.  Leave something.



Daurant closed his eyes and sighed.  That again. "Mount Ironstar fell, sure, but not every Ironstar went with it.  And who are these longbeards..." he turned to regard the speaker.  A dwarf.  Not one of Derval's.  Southern. Southern? This far North?

The Eyes.

There deep in the eyes of the speaker he saw the Bright Axe of Haela where none but a dwarf could see it.  His pause grew too long.

"Aye, we endure yet. Here and there." A priest of Haela.  He trembled.  He'd given up the road, the sword, but a priest of Haela must come for a reason.  "What brings you North, and from what hold do you hail?" What quest would he be challenged with?  How diminished would his honor be in refusing to care for his inn? Sigh.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 05:06, Wed 17 June 2020.

Confusion ran through his mind at the welcome he received, was it because as the apprentice he should have knocked first? He then realised, he never had needed to knock, he just sonehow knew when it was ok to enter, maybe that was his keen hearing!

Yes Master Ondabarl, said with respect and a familiarity that spoke of feeling like family rather than Master and Apprentice. A wayward child Elf raised partly by, on the outside, a taciturn and stoic Human, on the inside and in his private lessons, a caring and kind Uncle figure.

I found her as the group she is with were finishing an Adventure, she is finishing her dealings with them here in town before coming to see you. She has grown in knowledge but still has some of her playful side. I find that endearing.

He watched his master watching him, listening, taking in every word he said, it was another reason Heluvianal stayed, he wasn't being judged, or if he was, it was more of a kind teacher than a strict father, not that his father was strict.

Dhalcun, of the house of Melandrach the King of the Woods, he lives. Edrie's group appeared to have found him, possibly rescued him. His manner is more curt than courteous. I'm sure Edrie will tell you more when she returns here. She said she would show me, teach me things as you said she would.

Do you have more need of me this night? Heluvianal's words she such respect, it is hard to see how playful he was when first taken in, it is as though he was feeling he owed this human much, and you would be right. How the Yellow Dagger stood up for him in their first encounter, even though the human hadn't known who he was at the time, it showed the Wild Elf that some towns folk just 'knew'. It made him smile each time he recalled, because he also 'knew' this man.

He stood respectfully silent for his masters response, ready for whatever came his way.

At the Dragonback

"They call the clanhome Aebarak, but if we ever had the Strength of Gold it was squandered by fearful greybeards who thought they could close the doors of the hold and thus bar everything they dislike of the world from their reality. I am not so blind. I left to learn what I can of the world they so despise, and to follow Haela's call into battle." She bowed to Dauraunt. "And she has brought me to one marvel already, that the lost are not entirely lost. Should you need my aid, you need only call."

Seeking Sherlen

Tolantra enjoyed stretching her legs in Daggerford. The cool air was crisp upon her tongue, and there was the promise of a warm bed and warm food near at hand should the weather turn nasty again. It wasn't as pleasurable as a good brawl, but it was nice. It made searching for Sherlen almost fun, especially after several days of getting stiff in the saddle.

When she found the head of Daggerford's militia, Tolantra gave her a quick salute. "Calm earth and clear tunnels, commander. My group's returned from Bowshot. We were investigating rumors of drow in the hills outside of town. We found them, along with a couple tribes of orcs and goblins. A temple of human clerics were trying to weld them into an axe against this part of the coast. We killed most of them, drove off some others, and freed several people who had been taken captive.

"All of us survived. Garth remained behind in Bowshot, using part of his share of the treasure we took to become master of Bowshot's inn and expand his family's business. An elven woman we rescued, Celadhel Floshin, agreed to join us and came with us north. We also were joined by another elf, Heluvianal Oakseer, who I gather is an apprentice to the same wizard as Edie. Our group therefore stands at five, and we are ready to take our turn of militia duty when it is assigned."

Talking with Garth's Family

((ooc: I'm going to need an intro to this one. I assume I seek them out at their inn?))

In reply to Heluvianal Oakseer (msg # 20):

"Mmmmm... Yes. Edrie.  So long since my eyes have seen her."  The old mage reached for his cup of tea, a white porcelain cup with infinite blue lines tracing back and forth and forming the shapes of creatures full of long cooled liquid.  As his hand grasps it lightly steam suddenly rises from its rim.  "Yes, you can likely study under her for a time.  Your elfin lack-of-commitment to a discipline will ensure that you are ever her arcane inferior--at least for the remainder of her life. What you may achieve in the meaningless eons thereafter will trouble neither she nor I." Thin whiskers revealed a sneering smile.  You've never met a human that was so consciously jubilant in their humanity.

To the last question he chuckles and responds, "What need has a master for students? For their coin, of course.  But need of the student?  No, Heluvianal-" he says the name with impeccable elven pronunciation which disjoints it from the cadence of his speech, "-it is you that need me. A teacher is a servant to those less fortunate.  How may I enlighten you this evening?"

The River Shining Tavern
(#43)
This is the main entertainment center for the nobility of the surrounding lands and the major notables of Daggerford. The duke and his sister have been known to eat here, and the main hall of the tavern doubles as the meeting room for the Council of Guilds. By choice, some townsfolk only see the inside when coming to council meetings.

The Delimbiyr family took their name from the river and named the tavern after it, too. The River Shining Tavern is the longest established tavern still operating in Daggerford and claims to date from the town's founding. Certainly, the wooden building’s architectural style matches that of the oldest buildings in town.

------------

This is the tavern Garth always made so much of and caused him to despise the Inn of Bowshot.  The waitresses all wear a kind of uniform apron that is echoed in the dress of the bartender and maitre'd and host.  The people here are a who's who of the young upwardly-mobile professionals of Daggerford and their parents.

"There are passing strange sights in these lands. Many to despise, but a few to love to.  A fair warning--what you take from the North must be both taken and made.  It is a hard place, and it rewards a hard folk.  Every time the folk lose their strength, their empire falls and the Orc trods it beneath their feet." He snorts bitterly, "But we always rise again, though the rise be centuries in the making. I've not heard of your home, but ponderous empires that spread across the South seem more myth and magic to me than the working of any court mage I've seen."

"Everyone here needs aid eventually.  Suren you call for me when the time comes."  He extends a hand in friendship.



Sherlen grunts and sets down her stylus to take in what was said.  Her thick red braids trailing down either side of her head seemed out of place--normally she had them pulled back to ride under a helmet.  Her famed spear sat in a corner and she started to look at it longingly while Tol spoke.

"You're good Tol.  Don't get too good or they'll take it away from you and sit you behind a desk like this one." She made a disgusted sound and added, "Maybe this one. There's some at court that would see this post out of a woman's hands. I've never seen any dwarf maidens--few seem to--but you treat them right, Tol.  You don't tell them what they aren't or shouldn't be or can't do."  Her blood seemed to be up.  Sherlen had a renowned temper--but at least her spear was on the other side of the room.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"We're going to need a more formal action report from you.  More on the human clerics--the powers behind it all. That's the sort of thing the Duke likes to hear about. Goblins and orcs--well enough.  Someone trying to revise the power in the area?  That's Duke business."

--On the roster updates--

"We'll need to process the new ones.  You seem to have taken charge of this lot, so I'll leave it to you to document their lodgings and skills.  Garth's a loss. Helps morale to have the city's favored sons fight in the lines instead of buying their way out."

She reaches in a drawer, takes something in hand and walks over to you. "I've been meeting with advisors from the Lord's Alliance on how to formalize our troop structure. Make deployments easier.  Know who's in charge at a glance."  She shows you a piece of paper with a drawing of a Tabard--Blue on bottom, Yellow on top, divided by a white dagger.  "We're all going to wear them now.  Your dagger will have blood on it, Sergeant.  You're also getting five more raw recruits to break in."

She smiles broadly.  "Promoting good men is good for morale too."

Heluvianal was in agreement with his master, something that happened often as much as he may want it to not be the case on occasion.  If it pleases, I seem to be having trouble learning some spells.  I know that as I get more experience with the ones I know and understand the outside world better, that I will learn them, yet I think I need to learn more for the tasks we are doing.  Like being able to open locked entrances or being able to get better knowledge of what is ahead of us.  He wasn't sure what spells these would take the form of, but being able to help the group better, would make him feel more in place, and as a bonus, show Edrie that he was more than even she realised.

"Are these spells you have failed to learn previously, or do you merely require access to make the attempt?" He raised his hairy eyebrow quizzically.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 26):

Others, yes I failed to learn and these new ones, yes master, I wish to learn.
He had failed to learn some but he also wanted to learn new ones.

"I have such spells.  I also have potions to temporarily enhance your intellect to facilitate the mastery of such spells.  If they are essential, there is no better way of guaranteeing your chances of mastery."  Yellowknife paused as if lost in thought.  "Your apprenticeship fees and services are, of course, sufficient to access my books.  But if you additionally want access to my potion, I will require a specific service. Edrie and Tol, your traveling companions, avenged the death of Baron Crom Redhand and earned the favor of his widow.  I wish to have her favor as well. Discover for me what baubles and feminine fancies may attract her interest.  If your information serves me well, my potion will accordingly serve you."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 28):

There was no reason in Heluvianal'a mind not to accept this challenge, this mission from his master.
I shall get on it straight away master, I'm sure Edrie will know something.

Finishing the milk and bread he had been imbibing without even realising, head headed out of the building and to the Tavern he knew the others had gone to.

At the Dragonback

Tolantra took Dauraunt's hand. "It will be an honor. But for now, I'll stop embarrassing you and go back to my meal."

Sherlen

"Your desk is safe from me," Tolantra said with a grin, touched at the other woman's words. "Maybe I'll settle down in a century, but for right now the road dust is too new. I've never been much of one for reports, but if you want me to sit down with someone I'll be happy to answer questions."

When Sherlen said she was getting additional recruits, Tolantra's eyes widened. One of the reasons she'd left the clanhome had been that the elders didn't just refuse to let women fight, but also lead. She had been luxuriating in just leading an adventuring band, but this was different. This was military, however brief their watches might be. "I'd be honored," she choked out, fighting a throat that wanted to close. "Who are they, and when do I meet them?"

"You're a sergeant, Tol.  You already do the work, now you'll have the title.  Most of the time we work on a squad level, so you shouldn't have to see your lieutenant, just me.  If you do though, know that they tend to be young members of the Barons' houses and don't know much about soldiering.  They also don't like others to see their ignorance. A lot of times it'll fall on you to keep your men alive, your officer too.  And when you do something good, they'll steal the credit for it if they can to get more influence at court or jump precedence for inheritance, or capture a better bride. Best for us all if they stay well away." She snorts and waves her hand as if shooing away flies.

"Your recruits'll be raw.  Most of them doing their first trip of militia duty.  Boys and girls just hitting their majority and hefting a spear with a sharp point for the first time.  Good for standing watch or forming a line, but don't hope for much more.  If they're to become any more than they are, it'll be on you to teach them."

Tolantra chuckled. "Aye, we had a few highborn like that back home as well. I'll try to keep them in one piece. Though if they're anything like Karsus Wands, even my best might not be enough. As for the younglings, I'll get them into shape." She gave a quick bow. "Need anything else from me?"

The River Shining Tavern

Tolantra bowed to the host, giving her eyes a chance to adjust from the sunlight outside. "Clear tunnels and good ore to you. My name is Tol Auricheart. I'm an adventuring companion of Garth Delimbiyr. He's well, but decided to stay in the south after making his fortune. I was hoping to speak with his parents, to bring them word of their son."

"Yes, of course," the host replied.  "He is well?  The master has forsworn his son's debts, you realize?"

After a time you are escorted to a sitting room above the main floor of the tavern. It's possible that they rent a room or two here, but the second floor seems largely devoted to the housing of the Delimbyr family.  Compared with the orderly aspiring luxury below, the family home seems common and sturdy. The chair are simply made with straw-stuffed pillows to soften hard wooden seats.  When master Delimbyr comes, he cuts a different character than anything you ever saw from Garth.

He's a hard man grown old.  His forearms have a kind of farm-boy strength to them that come from days and years of forceful manipulation of tools and taps rather than the purposeful development of soldiers and strongmen. The lines on his face show years of worry and concern that must come from rising from a common family taking their name from the river they were spawned near to the reputable and and respected entrepreneur he has become. This and yet his middle has grown soft and round. Food that once was a rarity purchased with long hours of toil now comes easily to him, though with the weighty responsibility of knowing that the lives of others depend on his success.

"Welcome Tol. Ever we are glad to host the people of Derval Ironeater.  I'm Hull, Hull Delimbyr.  You come to tell me of my son."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:56, Fri 07 Aug 2020.

Celadhel was going to her kinswoman's house Shalindra, who by her description seems to be a knight/cavalier of some kind, but you have no sense of where that would be.  You could gather information?

Edrie said that she was going to a boardinghouse for young single women, run by Zeno.  She said it was in the North East corner of town.  You could probably find it.

Tol had considerable business to attend, but said that he lodged at the Dragonback Inn, and would be visiting The River Shining Tavern--which would theoretically be near the river.

Olaf said that he was going to the Harvest House, which is a prominent enough building in town that you would be able to find your way with relative ease.

Where do you want to go?

Tolantra stood and gave Hull a respectful bow. Master Delimbyr. I had the honor of being the leader of your son's militia squad. Our duty done for the month, we went south to investigate rumors of caves outside the village of Bowshot. We found them occupied by a variety of monsters led by a sect of evil priests. We prevailed in clearing the caves, and brought out a minor fortune. Garth decided to use his portion to buy Bowshot's sole inn. It was in need of an experienced hand to manage it, and with the winter to make changes, I'm confident that by the time the first caravans come, Garth will have it in a condition worthy of the family name. I promised to bring word to his family that his not returning was due to an excess of good fortune, and not of bad." She bowed a second time.

Hull seemed puzzled, his worn brow furrowing with thought. "Hmmm. It's not like Garth to take on honest work. I don't know when or if you'll be heading to Bowshot again, but I'd like to pass on some of the family wisdom to him.  He won't ask, and it's not something I'd trust to a regular messenger, but if you'll come before you depart I'd be obliged if you'd take it to him. A few family recipes and managerial advice.  That sort of thing.  Would you be willing?"

Tolantra nodded. She'd had her private concerns about Garth and his steadiness in battle, but he wasn't a bad person. She was glad he had gotten out of adventuring before his recklessness had killed him. "I would be happy to. The next time I head south, I'll come to you first."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 35):

(ooc: my error, got mixed up)
Heluvianal heads to the house of Zeno, where he told Edrie he would go to after seeing the master.

Once he had caught up with Edrie, Heluvianal gave his leave, letting her know he was going to pop into the herbalist shop he had worked in behind the scenes, asking if she needed supplies.

He then heads out to the shop to catch up and maybe make/buy a distraction package.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:52, Sat 08 Aug 2020.

Zeno's Residence (building 141) is located in the farmer's quarter--mostly occupied by the farmers who till the soil in the Norhtern fields.  Some have small herds of cattle and sheep, while others have chickens in the back yard.  The area is crowded, noisy, full of animals, and has a definite odor--the honest and unassuming rich scent of manure. It is a fair sized building with many rooms, and in somewhat poor repair.  Zeno himself--a battle scarred half-elf--is outside making a repair to the building.  Edrie is inside, and Zeno doesn't let males inside.  He sighs and goes inside to summon Edrie, and soon enough she emerges half-washed, out of her travel clothes and modestly wrapped in a house robe. "Heluvianal!  How was your visit with the Master?"

He looked on as Zeno went to get Edrie and caught himself watching every move that Edrie made, each twist of the hips, each flick of the hair.  Ahem!!  Edrie, you look.... He was lost for words Nice.   Oh no he thought, what kind of response was that?  Edrie knew exactly what she was doing, he knew that too.

Master Ondabarl was pleased to hear that you had returned, he asked me to find something out, it appears he has a 'liking' of Baron Crom Redhand's recently made widow and asked if there were any things that would win her favour.  If I can get this information to him, he has something that will help me   He didn't mean to say all of this but he couldn't help it, not now, not with her hair gleaming.....ahem.  He caught his thoughts again.

Will you aid in this as I'm sure she would welcome such conversation with you about, what ever women talk about.  That was it, he stopped talking and smiled to save himself.

"Uh, ok."  She looks a little sheepish, "I'm not exactly a highborn lady to be sitting in Lady Redhand's parlor, though.  She'd be more likely to take me on as a chambermaid." She thinks for a moment, "Maybe Celadhel would be better at that?"  She stops to consider that while Celadhel seems highborn, she also had a hard ferocity to her that might not endear her to genteel associations. Moreover she remembered how she set her wood elf companion packing.  "But maybe not. I'd be more helpful if it was a research problem."  She beams temporarily, and then realizes how weak that sounds, pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and breaks eye contact. "Is that all?"

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 42):

He watched Edrie as she spoke, listening as he always has, maybe it was her that encouraged him in the past when not with Master Ondabarl!

Chambermaid may work as you'd see what was going on and then when we feel high born, can't be that hard, then return and have a good contact.

Thats it, research her, what she does and what she doesn't like, how to be highborn! I could help.

And he too now because a little flustered, I am to be your student

He started to reach up to help her move her hair then stopped himself before his hand had gone too high and tried to change it to a handshake, feeling foolish he dropped his hand. Err, ok, I'll leave you to it now, erm, I'll be back at the tower. He smiled and awkwardly turned the walked off faster than he intended.

I'm going to call that a day's business concluded--prepared for the morning?

((ooc: Yep!))

Uktar 4, 1357

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Temperature:
Low: 15
High: 40

Winds: From tropics at 40 mph.

Precipitation: Heavy snow becoming rain or sleet

Relative Humidity:
Morning: Low
Evening: Moderate

Dawn is at: 7:02

Number of daylight hours: 9.90

Selûne: 3rd Qtr

---

Early the next morning--a bitter cold morning that warms appreciably in the day and visited by snow and rain--a note from Sherlen Spearslayer sends a hastily scrawled note to Tol. "Just got word, important visitors in town this tenday, get your new pups ready, and be ready to do gate and city patrol duty.  Get the tabard fitted. Check in when you can."

'When you can' is about as formal as the Daggerford Militia ever gets.

As it turns out, the important visitor coming is Baron Agwain of Delantar--a barony that econmpasses the lands along the Northern bank of the River Delimbiyr between Julkoun and Secomber.  Of all the Shining Baronies of the Council of Man, Delantar is perhaps the best developed and most influential besides the Ducal seat of Daggerford itself.

Tolantra nodded to herself as she read the note from Sherlen. It seemed like she had proven her competence to the militia commander, which was always to the good. After getting some morningfeast, she went out to gather up her axe novices. It was going to be a miserable day; perfect for doing weapon drills inside. This first day she didn't want to bring any of her squad in to join the training; they deserved some time to themselves, and besides there were only five novices. Tolantra could handle them herself, easily. She also made a point of finding someone who knew how to use needle and thread, so that her tabard could be prepared.

Heluvianal

It doesn't take much investigating the next morning to discover that the former Baroness Piann Redhand of Tavboryn, the widow of Baron Cromm, is currently a guest of the Duke of Daggerford at his castle. The town is seemingly abuzz with news of the impending arrival of Baron Agwain of Delantar--so there are many tongues wagging regarding the rulers of the Shining Baronies as the feudal lands that owe fealty to the Duke are known.

The nature and duration of Piann's stay is behind your ability to determine via street banter.

Your immediate options seem to be:

• Look for a way to meet with Piann in the Ducal castle.
• Look for better qualified informants to get more information on her status.
• Look for better qualified informants about the Shining Baronies.

Of course you are always able to come up with your own path.

Tolantra



A seamstress is easily found and appropriated for the work prior to pressing on to the barracks.  You sit for a time in Sherlen's office going over the standard training regimen. "Marching is for soldiers--and we're not. They'll never be able to practice it enough to make much use of it.  They need the General Orders fo the watch, care of equipment, camping protocols and experience for road missions, and weapons training. Spears are mandatory, but you can determine their further arms.  There's one now..." she says as she gestures through the window of her office.

The new one of the new recruits is already at the barracks when you arrive.  He seems eager and enthusiastic, but not especially promising.  He wears the apron of an apprentice mason.

Soon after you arrive comes what you soon recognize to be a paragon of lowborn humanity. A humble gardener, your warrior's eye identifies a frame that muscle could easily be built upon and a springiness in his step that implies a natural sort of athleticism. His eyes are intelligent as well.  A considerable prospect, and but for the nature of his birth he might easily be a lord among these people.  Unfortunately he has yet to set his eyes on the horizon.

A pair of females come next.  One is a useless sort. Whether by nature or neglect, this young woman never learned any skill of appreciable value and seems destined to enter the pool of unskilled female labor--cleaning, or serving, or laying.  It'll be some time yet before she develops an income sufficient to buy her way out of militia duty.  It's unlikely, though, that she'll contribute much until then.  Her companion, though, may have considerable talents.  Her forearms bore the striations and vascularity associated with long use of manual tools--not unlike Tol's own. Tools implied skill, and the fact that she kept company easily and befriended one who was so much her inferior implied the ability to participate in team work.

Finally there is a lithe fellow who brings with him his own bow and arrows, and appears prepared to prove his worth.  If you had to guess, he made them himself and has sufficient skill to make more.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 48):

The next day brought many rumours, gossip, quick enquiries from a smiling young Elf brought additional information but more was needed.

Heluvianal asked each who best to talk with about the Baroness and the impending visit of another Baron.

They may need additional help he thought to himself.

Finding Edrie to pass this on since she said she would help, proved slightly difficult, he wasn't quite strong enough yet to face the proprietor again and didn't know which window she would be at, so he settled down across the street and waiting, even trying a bit of Elven singing whilst there, the Ethereal and Haunting tunes brought both joy and upset. He didn't know why he chose the song of the distant lady lost in the wood but it worked for his voice.

There are many people with many answers, but in short there seem to be two avenues: Speak with someone highly placed in the militia, or someone from the Ducal Court.

The Daggerford Militia is commanded by a Sherlen Spearslayer, and is served by two captains--Arayndar Delimbyr and the Duke's Lawsword Rauthgar Thundersworn.  That's the low road to the information you seek.

The high road runs through the Ducal Court:

Lord Llewellyn Longhand, Duke’s Master-of-Arms
Korbus Brightjewel, Court Jeweler
Kelson “Darktreader” Floshin, Master of the Duke’s Hunt
Gwydion pen Dafwyd, Court Wizard to the Duke of Daggerford
Lady Bronwyn Daggerford, the Duke's Sister

Again, street level contacts get you little more than names.



After a time Edrie indeed emerges.  While adventuring, Edrie had always kept herself buttoned up and tightly bound--as much armor as any human wizard can manage.  Here though, back at home, she wears a stout woolen dress a well cut coat that accentuates her waist while preserving her warmth, and an oiled cloak with a fur trimmed interior to keep the cold and wet out. Not good travel clothes or adventuring clothes, but well made for today's conditions.

"Heluvianal. Good morning! What a pretty song--are you turning bard on us?"

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 51):

Caught out by how Edrie looks, almost forgetting that she wears more comfortable clothing in the Tower of their master, his song abruptly ends and then closes his mouth.
Erm, good morning, you look, erm, dressed for the weather rather than a fight, much better.

That errand for Master Ondabarl, we are in luck as there is much gossip starting in the town  He then regales to Edrie what he has learnt about whom to talk with or get close with.  Do you think we could both get close to people and find information out?  I'm sure others would want to know too.

Tolantra greeted each of her new recruits as they arrived. She asked each of them for their names, what they hoped to do over the next three or four years, and which weapons they were familiar with. She wanted to get a feel for their skills and the personalities she would be dealing with. She also introduced herself, puffing out her beard and crossing her arms in a way that emphasized her muscles. None of them particularly looked like troublemakers, but it was better to establish herself at the start anyway.

Once the introductions were out of the way, she started weapons drills. Those, she knew from experience, were what recruits found the most interesting. Better to give them the reward of showing up early, and burn off any nervous energy. Once they were sufficiently tired she would have them stack arms and begin work on the non-combat skills militia needed.

While they drilled, she debated what weapons she wanted to train them in. Spears made sense; they were easy to learn and useful when defending a wall. Outside the wall, though, they were pretty useless outside of either a disciplined formation or tunnel fighting.

They would need something more effective for close-in work, either an axe or sword. Tolantra leaned towards the battle axe; she knew it well and the novelty of learning a non-human weapon would hopefully give her squad a bit of internal cohesion and pride. Since they had one archer already, she'd teach them the short bow, so the squad would have a way of fighting at range. And, more practically, if she needed to take these tenderfeet out with her existing squad, making them archers would give the swordlings a chance to be both useful and survive. She might also teach them something else, like knife fighting or her beloved war hammer. But first she'd see how they took to these three.

Tol:  Roll a Wisdom check and a Charisma check. We’re going to determine how successful you are in drilling militia men (wisdom), but we’re also going to see if you retain their respect at the conclusion of their drilling (charisma).

We’re going to reach a point in this campaign where we incorporate some Birthright and Battlesystem mechanics. It seems appropriate to me that there should be some sort of NWP for raising and training levies in such scenarios. Combined with the formation work you did in the dungeons, and what you’re engaging in here, I’d think you’d be eligible for attaining that NWP at the next opportunity.  I’ll be reviewing that material to see if something that already exists—and we’ll invent something if it doesn’t. Of course, that doesn’t mean that you have to choose it—just that you can.

Do you want to continue training them beyond today?  They’re only required to show up today to receive their initial training, but it’s possible that you can enjoin them to volunteer a little further time this week with a successful Charisma check vs each of them.

What else would you like to do/work on this ten-day?

Mason
Gardener
Layabout
Carpentress
Bowyer

---

Hel:

“Speaking to Sherlen or one of her captains seems possible.  Tol talks to Sherlen more than I do, but practitioners of the Art are rare enough in the militia that she may take an appointment with me. Captain Arayndar Delimbyr sounds like he may be a relative of Garth.  I always got along well enough with Garth—it could be an opening.  I know Tol was going to speak to Garth’s father last night—I could deliver similar news to Arayndar.” 

She gives a frustrated smile, “Neither of these options requires that I become a chamber maid for a widowed baroness. Whatever people-skills I may have had, I’ve been gradually losing in the library in any case.  What seems to be the best course to you?”

((ooc: Training checks:
Wisdom check: 1d20 = 5
Charisma check 1d20 = 6 Both succeed.))

Tolantra spent an enjoyable day putting her new militia through their paces. They went through use and care of their weapons and armor, a description of militia duties in which she was able to tell some tales of road patrol, and general militia calls and responses. Then through the afternoon she split them up into smaller groups and began weapons drills.

It went... about as well as she could have hoped for over a single day. They were going to need significantly more work if they were going to be able to be effective, or survive, any sort of actual fight. But for the first day, it was positive.

As the sun started to go down and she wrapped up the first day, she spent a bit of time talking with each person. She was hoping to convince them to come for another day or two of weapons drill. If these were dwarves, it would have been a solid month. But... these were not dwarves. One had to make allowances.

((ooc: Charisma check to convince folks to come for more training: 1d20 = 6. Pretty high success.))

I'm going to borrow a 4E mechanic and say that this is going to be a skill challenge.  What you're looking to do here is achieve 5 successes before three failures.  Success will indicate that your trainees have successfully become 1st level fighters.  If you want to teach them specific NWPs or to be specialized in a weapon you're specialized in, that'll be a separate skill challenge.

Failure will indicate that they have become 0th level adventurers and will not be able to train for specialization.

Due to the nature of a volunteer militia, you'll have to continue making Charisma checks to bring them back for training.

So far your efforts are succeeding.

1/5 Success
0/3 Failure

Recruits will return tomorrow for further training.

How would you like to spend your evening?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 56):

(ooc: This is a 2E thing too although its a Wisdom Role to see if you are Wise enough to teach)

In reply to Heluvianal Oakseer (msg # 52):

Heluvianal heads to the militia after asking Edrie to try court unless she prefers it to be the other way around, right now he is almost putty in her hands. (ooc:  Damn you DM lol)

She doesn't actually have an opinion on it.  In her opinion, this is your 'side-quest' given you by the master. So in this case, she's just going to go with the thing that is the least inconvenient for her--Captain Arayandar Delimbyr.

Edrie sighs, "Delimbyr.  But this is your errand, so after I've made the introductions and delivered my news--it's on you."  She pokes a finger at your chest to emphasize the point.  Her finger, of course stops like it hit a brick wall against the vast mound of wild elf muscle. 19 Strength! She pokes again, this time with curiosity.

"Are you wearing some kind of elf-plate mail under that?"

She shakes her head dismissing the line of inquiry and walks off to the barracks.

The streets acquire their daily hustle and bustle with a low hum about the impending visit of Baron Delantar.  Typically the Barons of the Shining Baronies keep their distance from the Ducal seat because a visit means weakening the defenses of their homes and potentially being ensnared in Daggerford Court intrigues--when they have court intrigues of their own at home.  Further, for one accustomed to rule, it must be uncomfortable to be reminded that one is also ruled by the proximity of one's liege lord.

The barracks are much as they have always been.  In Daggerford, they are nearly like a motel with militamen rotating on-and-off duty. Captain Arayndar Delimbyr is a distnguished man who has long been in the service of the Duke.  He looks old enough to be Garth's father, and receives the news of his cousin's impromptu entrepreneurship with an unreadable smirk--a slight rise of the corner of his mouth.

"All men must go their own way some day.  I know Garth fancied himself a duelist, but he'll better serve the people by improving that terrible inn.  My brother, his father, has surely taught him enough about that.  Thank you for bringing me news from abroad," he says sincerely putting a gold piece on the table, "and for news of my kin." He puts another gold piece on the table beside the first.

Edrie looks disbelievingly at the gold on the table, then pushes them back. "You're welcome?"

Tolantra nodded in satisfaction as her squad agreed to return for more training. So far, things were going quite well.

Sliding her hammer back into her belt, Tolantra sauntered through town towards Derval's smithy. She kept her eyes open in case anything of interest poked its head up, but right now she wanted to feel the dwarven language on her lips and hear a bit of honest forging. Stepping into the smithy, she gave Derval a quick bow and glanced around. "Fair evening, Derval. How goes the day?"

((ooc: Not looking to do too much, just catch up on gossip and foster bonds and good relations with the local dwarves. Then supper and sleep.

Also, I have a free NWP that I haven't taken from my last level up. I'd definitely be interested if taking "militia training," or whatever we end up calling it.))

I think the way I want to run this is to start running a private log of your relations to different factions (for lack of a better term).  There's a lot of power groups and noble families around, and considering the frequency of activity here it will make it easier to keep consistent.  Reaction adjustments and the like are not a part of the game I ever used or read up on, but it seems like a good thing to beef up on in this campaign.  So if you stay in contact with a group and maintain relations, their disposition towards you remain static--they don't degrade.  Fall out of contact, and they start degrading (fastest for humans, slower for dwarves, slowest for elves--long lives, long memories). Perform services for them or sacrifice for them and those relations improve and they're more likely to help you and pass on information and hooks.  So at this point I'm going to call this maintaining fraternal ties and participating in clan activities.  You're maintaining a good standing, and I'll mark my log accordingly.

((ooc: That sounds good. Are you going to be tracking that in a separate thread? Or is it being tracked off-line? Also, since Tolantra has lived in Daggerford for some months, is there a list of "factions" that she's aware of?))

(ooc:  Having lived in Daggerford for a couple of years, I'd be interested in knowing some of this too.  I know Heluvianal has kept himself out of the way but he has good hearing)

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 60):

Following Edrie almost like a lost sheep, he wasn't quite sure how to answer the poke to the chest. Erm, thats just me, comes from connection with the woods and some training

That was all he could manage.

As Edrie found the Captain, Heluvianal was by her shoulder and listened to the information given about Garth, hoping it was enough for an introduction.  After she had spoken, pushed the gold coins back and made to leave, he gave her a smile and a nod.

Ahem, excuse me Captain Arayandar Delimbyr, I am Heluvianal Oakseer, I was with the group that contained Edrie and Garth when they parted, I serve Master Ondabarl, paying of a debt.

I'm not sure that even the Captains of the Militia are aware that I'm an Apprentice, not since even the Master's apprentices don't know, except Edrie now.  He thought to himself.

I have been asked to get some information on a few of the Dukes so appropriate gifts and messages can be supplied, and I heard you may be able to help, if that is ok!  He was trying this tactic first, it may breed information or warnings, both of which would be helpful.  So he steps back with hands slightly out in front of his sides and open, palms facing the Captain to show no ill intent as was done in the Woods.

Arayandar's face darkens a bit before he composes himself.  "Forgive me, but it must be a terrible luxury to inspire such love and devotion that strangers busy themselves trying to find ways to curry favor. Master Ondabarl already has strong relations with the Duke, however.  My dear fellow, I suspect you mean the Barons. Which of the Barons does Master Ondabarl have a need to impress?"

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 68):

Feeling a little embarrassed at getting Dukes and Barons wrong, they don't have them in the wild forest, his complexion changing to reflect this mild discomfort.
Are, yes, that'll be it.  I can only imagine that Master Ondabarl has plans within plans within plans for the benefit of Daggerford.

I believe he also has concerns for the Baron Crom Redhand's widow, maybe a power shift?

Any help you can give would be appreciated and if I can do anything for you to repay, if I am able, I will.

He wasn't sure what this would entail but it may just give him contacts that he can rely on too.

In reply to Heluvianal Oakseer (msg # 69):

"No offense.  Even my own family, which predates the residency of all our so-called nobles but the Duke's himself must find ways to curry favor where we can. The Widow Redhand? At this point, the gift she must most certainly desire is security!  Cromm's kin come from the North to claim his ruin because the laws of his tribe prohibit the passing of titles to females.  And who knows how his kinsmen will regard her when they arrive?  Who are her own kin?  Why has she not returned to them, but rather abide here in the apartments of her late-lord's liege?"

"Give her back her home clear and free of claim from louse-ridden Illuskan kinsmen.  The man that does that will find her favor for sure.  And if doing so helps the duke strengthen and secure his Duchy from Northern incursion, likely favor will be found there as well. Yellow Knife should have the means, but perhaps not the courage."

Arayandar gives a handsome toss of his hair in disgust. "If I still lead a free company, I'd offer to do it for him. There'd be coin in that."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 70):

This was all very interesting to Heluvianal, more intrigue that he'd heard in ages, even with his talent for listening in.

Thank you Sir  He thought the title may help with Arayandar's mood. Maybe my master has thought of your 'free company' already, I'll be sure to mention you to him, we all need coin every now and then, why not help a friend out in the process!  He was sure that this was the right way to do things in order to gain additional favours.

Do you know much of her homelands and the things which may bring a smile to the Widow?

"I know nothing of her or her homeland.  Tavboryn--the barony Cromm Redhand ruled--was a remote place and in constant peril of the Lizardmen.  The Ladies of Ardeepsward or Starnaer would have better insight.  Your companion, Tol, avenged her late lord and it is said she showed him some special favor.  You've available to you a shorter route to find what you need."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:02, Mon 22 Feb 2021.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 72):

Thank you for this information, I will bid my leave.  I think I know where Tol will be, if not now, tonight just before the sun sets.

Heluvianal leaves the Captain and goes back to Master Ondabarl to report, then heads to find Tol and make enquiries for in-roads.

You know exactly where Tol is--you saw him drilling some raw recruits right outside.

---

Tol you Heluvianal coming out of Captain Delimbyr's office and looking your way.  Edrie trails along with that uncomfortable look that lets you know that she doesn't exactly know why she's here, but that she assumes it would be impolite to leave. Poor girl. If only social situations were as easy to read as books.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 74):

Although Heluvianal has seen Tol when he got to the Captains office, he hadn't been sure he would still be there.

Edrie, I don't know Tol like you do, will he be ok me asking all this?

Edrie shrugged. "Tol is Tol.  It's hard to tell.  He seems to give of himself regularly and to have taken responsibility for all of us in some way or another.  All he can do is say no. It's not like he'll cast you out or exile you or something."

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 76):

These words got Heluvianal a bit nervous, what if Tol, whom seemed in charge of the group, didn't let him go on the next trip?

Finding Tol, Heluvianal asks "Excuse me Tol, it's Heluvianal, Edrie's friend.  Erm, I've been asked to get information on the Widow of Baron Cromm Redhand, it seems that my Master has an interest in her continued wellbeing or some such"

He didn't want to get anyone in to trouble and it was the best he could come up with.  Of average guile and above average intellect, he didn't always say the right things but he was honest about them.

"Baron Cromm's widow?" Tolantra blinked in surprise. "He was that noble who went charging into the swamp after lizard man raiders and got himself killed. I chased after him with my first militia squad last year, not long after I came to Daggerford. She took the death of her husband hard, but I haven't seen her since. What does you master want to know?"

In reply to Tol (msg # 78):

This was embarrassing, especially with Edrie close by. What things would gain her favour, I think he wants to, you know, 'court her' these last two words said in almost a conspiratorial whisper.  The masters plans are well above my head, maybe he has a proposal for Daggerford, which would need her support!

Do you know anything of where the Baron or the Widow originally hailed from? I heard she came from somewhere outside the town. Was the Swamp near the Barons home? That would be useful.

He realised he was waffling now and needed to stop.

Tolantra raised an eyebrow. "Court the woman? Without giving her at least five years to mourn? If I were the poor woman I would hit him with something heavy. And he doesn't even have the courtesy to deliver his poems himself." She snorted. "No. I have nothing for such a man."

Edrie sniffs, "A five year mourning period?  That's a significant percentage of a human woman's fertile years--enough to render remarriage meaningless.  Though in this case I suspect that the courtship has more to do with her titles and territorial holdings."

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 81):

5 years!!  He had heard that this was a lifetime for a Human. Are you sure about the 5 years?  For us it may not be long but for a Human, they are almost ready for work after 5 years where you may take 20 and Elves even longer.  Then he remembered that Edrie was Human.

Edrie, how long would you mourn for?  He almost said it, if I were to die!  But caught himself.  You may be right about the title but I'd guess the land and maybe the property within Daggerford

"So he doesn't actually care about her at all, just what he can take from her." Tolantra snorted. "Typical. In that case, no, I don't know anything that would be of use to him."

In reply to Tol (msg # 83):

He knew he was messing this up for sure.
No, please Tol.  As I said at the start, I don't know what for, maybe he just wants to console her.  Then he remembered something, his master was already married.

In fact, I'm certain of it  he wasn't however, sure how much Edrie knew.  Master Ondabarl had said he hoped that she wasn't overwhelmed and wanted to know what things pleased her to help her along.  I mean, he has his own tower and place in town, what does he want with more?  Maybe he is after some work for us apprentices, I know from experience he tries to get us doing more and more.

His mouth was getting the better of him again but what could he do?  Then an idea!! I don't suppose The widow has holdings near the Laughing Hollow forest?

"How should I know?" Tolantra threw up her hands. "I met the woman once, after chasing after her idiot husband and bringing back his corpse. It's not as though we've been carrying on correspondence." Though that wasn't a bad idea, actually. She was starting to make connections here on the surface; she should make certain those tunnels remained well-teneded.

"It's a short ride to her house. He should ride over and ask."

"Based on what Captain Delimbyr just said, it won't be hers for much longer.  The title can't pass to a woman--there are relatives coming from out of town to take her home and titles."  Edrie finishes on a disgusted tone

"That's disgusting." Tolantra shuddered. Things weren't usually that bad back at the clanhome, but she would have been lying if she'd tried to say dwarves had never played such power games. It was awful, and one of many reasons she preferred Haela's clergy. At least she could hit most of her problems. "Has anyone thought to ask the woman what she wants? I assume, since the vultures are circling, that they didn't have any children."

In reply to Tol (msg # 87):

Maybe my master is wanting to find out so he can help, he sent me but I know nothing of this court and power grabbing stuff

Tolantra shrugged. "I can't help you. I'm not much for politics myself, and I think anyone who tries to intrude on someone's mourning for their own advancement should be hit in the head with an axe. Repeatedly."

In reply to Tol (msg # 89):

I know, right.  That's why I can only think he's wanting to help her.  He really is a nice guy, he helped me when he didn't have to and asked nothing of me.  I think he's trying to help her stay strong.

Tolantra shrugged again. Nothing she could do. Turning to Edie, she asked, "I've been drilling new militia all day and was heading to get some eveningfeast. Care to join me?"

In reply to Tol (msg # 91):

We could always visit her tomorrow, maybe take some nice things.  I don't know how to go and visit nobles.  His face seemed to drop as he recalled hiding from one when he saw them going by, not that he didn't want to be seen, he had all on trying to not get in to trouble by helping people, again.

"You don't know when to leave enough alone, do you?" Tolantra said, starting to walk towards a tavern. "You can go for a winter ride if you want. I'm staying here in town where there are thick walls and warm forges."

He wasn't sure what he had done wrong, Tol was yes then no then yes then no.  It was all too much for him.  He heads back to the Tower to sleep.

There is a strange tension among the companions for the remainder of the week.  Their interactions settled nothing, and further attempts seemed only to deepen the awkwardness.  For days they didn't talk--perhaps hoping that distance would ease matters.

Tol continued drilling her new recruits, winning their hearts with caring competence and stern resolve until finally they had to attend their actual lives on the 7th of Uktar.

Sherlen Spearslayer--exasperated--called on Tol in person on the morning of the 8th and pleaded for her to take up street duty.  Baron Agwain of Delantar had arrived the previous evening and the tension among Tol's companions seemed to be mirrored by the Ducal Court.  Delantar sits farther upstream on the Delimbyr and includes the hamlet of Julkoun.  The Barons of Delantar have long maintained one of the strongest forces in the Duchy housed in their stronghold of Athgard Keep which sits astride the intersection of the Delimbyr Route and the Shining Trail.

It simply isn't in Tol's character to turn Sherlen down.

---

Uktar 8, 1357--Night

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Temperature:
Low: 25
High: 45

Winds: From tropics at 20 mph.
With a Wind chill of -15

Precipitation: No Precipitation

Relative Humidity:
Morning: Low
Evening: Moderate

Dawn is at: 7:02

Number of daylight hours: 9.90

Selûne: 4th Qtr

---

After an exhausting daylong tour of duty on a bitterly cold by thankfully dry day, you collapsed into bed at the barracks to rest up for tomorrow’s duties. Shortly after falling asleep, you are abruptly awakened by one of the duke’s lawblades and ordered to guard the River Gate until you are relieved. Still half-asleep, you get dressed and stumble down to the River Gate where you find a small crowd milling about.

On the way, you learn from the lawblade, an older man named Byllagarn Hartshorn, that less than two hours ago, Baron Agwain of Delantar apparently abducted Lady Bronwyn and tried to escape unnoticed out the River Gate. She was recognized by a group of rivermen, who rushed to her aid. In the ensuing brawl, several soldiers manning the River Gate were slain by the baron’s men while rushing to Lady Bronwyn’s aid.

"No one in or out until you're relieved!" Hartshorn snarls, "If the Court Mage himself tells you to stand aside, you draw steel and hold him until a lawful order comes."

The old lawblade looks into the city mentally checking off which sectors are secure and which he must now visit. If you have quesitons, now is the time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:54, Mon 31 May 2021.

Uktar 8, 1357--Early Morning


In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 95):

Heluvianal wasn't aware of the commotion going on in the city when he awoke, so he did his usual stretching and balancing exercises then went to find his master and breakfast, remembering that he still had his chores to do, like making the breakfast in the first place.

On finding his master, he waited until he could talk alone and then divulged the information he had gathered, ways to garner the Widows favour, especially regarding keeping her title, her homeland and flowers.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:53, Mon 31 May 2021.

Uktar 8, 1357--Early Morning




Delfen Yellowknife receives the news stoically and without looking at Heluvianal, but the corners of his mouth perk up ever-so-slightly. Then his knobby hands--limber from decades of spell casting, but swollen at the joints as all mortals must in time--rise slowly until they stand before his face like twin trees.  Then ever-so-slowly then bend in toward one another until they meet, each finger tip resting against one another.  His eyes stare between his steepled fingers directly into a wall.  He does not move further, nor does he speak.  Or blink.

The note he'd from Tol calls Heluvianal to the Barracks--it seemed urgent.  Apparently the Master required time to consider his news.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:53, Mon 31 May 2021.

Uktar 8, 1357--Night



Celadhel seemed strangely worn by the long day of road duty.  Her muscles were sculpted as if by an artist, but their use was dance and sword play, not the long plodding work of the Militia. The Lawblade's words seemed to spark her spirit anew. "How can you possibly have that authority? My sister is a Cavalier dwelling here in this city, a daughter of Elorfindar Floshin and sworn in the service of the Duke. You would bow before her if you saw her on her way to market!"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:52, Mon 31 May 2021.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 97):

He waited a short while, watching his master, trying to read the thoughts going on within his head, certainly couldn't see his face and the back of his head didn't help either.

He received the note. I have to go master, Tom, the companion I told you about has called for me, maybe more information!

Sorry I didn't have more for you. Grabbing his things, the rouge left the tower and ran as fast as he could back to the Barracks as requested.

What is it, you have news or has something happened? Heluvianal didn't know what would be better but it was adventure and a possible way to get more Spells taught him.

Tolantra rolled her eyes, though she was careful to keep that hidden from the others. "Emergencies run through different tunnels, Celadhel. Especially when innocents have already been slain." Turning back to the lawblade, she gave a firm nod. "We'll hold the gate, never fear. And if you need some help pounding sense into the baron's skull, well, my hammer is here and ready."

When Heluvianal ran up, Tolantra gave him a nod of his own. "Agwain kidnapped Bronwyn, the duke's sister, and killed several guards trying to fight his way out. We're holding this gate while they find him."

In reply to Tol (msg # 100):

Heluvianal nods his understanding and takes a stand.

On his way out the door, the Lawblade clarifies the strategic situation for Heluvianal and Tol.

“Baron Agwain and his escort fled in a stolen skiff up the River Delimbiyr. As soon as he was informed, the duke and his huntmaster mustered all available soldiers and rivermen and fled in hot pursuit. A second company of soldiers was dispatched north up the Trail Way under the command of Lord Llewellyn. They aim to ride north and east along the Delimbiyr Route in hopes of cutting off Baron Agwain before he arrives at his castle in Delantar, where he is said to have retained the services of a devil- spawned court mage to guard his prize.”

He scratches his chin in thought for a moment, "Rather than just standing around, canvas the immediate area around the gate to see if any evidence or clues were left behind.  They'll be needed if he survives to see his trial."

Lawblade Byllagarn Hartshorn departs into the night.

---

As guards of the River Gate, ordered to lock down the town, you all must first expected to close and lock the gates, requiring a successful Strength check.

Second, the PCs are expected to stand guard atop the gate tower, looking out over the River Delimbiyr and in over the River Quarter.

The River Gate Tower is a two story stone tower, with narrow, stone steps curving up the northwest wall of the tower (inside the wall) to a small room on the second floor and continuing on to the roof.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:51, Mon 07 June 2021.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 102):

Nodding at the information, even at the bits he didn't understand.

Let me try the river gate.

Taking a grip, Heluvianal had no problems moving the gate to lock it.

ooc: Rolled 7 on Open Doors roll, needed 16 or 8 for locked/stuck Doors. Easily made.

Olaf marveled at Heluvianal's feat of strength.  "Your native soils must be hardy indeed!"

"Are we sure whether this was knavery?" she put her hands to her stomach. "In a bard's telling this would sound like gallantry."

Celadhel had started for the stairs, but now returned looking a bit queasy.  "If what lies in that room is gallantry, I will politely decline."  The nauseous look on a face so flawless seems like a crime against Sûne.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:37, Mon 07 June 2021.

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 105):

(I'm unsure here:  I'm guessing Edrie and Celadhel are at the gate tower)

Heluvianal wasn't sure what Olaf meant, so assumed he meant that the young man ate well but exercised.  Yes but running up and down trees helps, you need strong soil to get strong trees.  He was a bit naive, but tried.  He was also more Naive than he let on when it came to females. Edrie, what do you mean?  Do you think the lady went willingly?

I didn't describe it well--yes.  You're all at the river gate.  The tower rises up over the gate. Celadhel was the first one to try to go inside the gatehouse.

"It was fairly clear from the description that she did not," Tolantra said. Checking that the gate was closed and barred, she made for the gate tower. As she stepped inside, she added, "I wonder if I can volunteer to swing the axe when they drag him back."

In reply to Tol (msg # 109):

He wasn't happy about this information, not the information itself but what it meant.  He tightened his jaw, the lines becoming almost grown-up, then he flexed his muscles and readied his dagger in one hand and his spear in his main one.

Inside the upstairs room, there is a wooden table and chairs, where soldiers on duty pass their breaks. Laid out on the table are three corpses. Two of the corpses are garbed in the duke’s livery and dressed as soldiers. Both appear to have died after being shot with crossbow bolts. The third corpse is garbed in the baron’s livery, covered by the homespun garments of a Daggerford commoner. He appears to have died from a small knife wound. Off to the side are a pile of weapons and shields, including 2 longswords, 1 broadsword, 2 shields, and a longbow and broken arrow.

Tolantra glanced over at Heluvianal. "Still think she went willingly?"

Setting aside the corpses, Tolantra  examined the tower. This was the first time she'd been in it, and if she was to keep watch, she wanted to know where people would be posted and where all the good sightlines were.

This room is a break room--they wouldn't have necessarily been standing right here.  From what the Lawblade said, the Ducal soldiers would have been the last combatants  to arrive in the streetfight/riot between Baron Agwain's disguised men and the patriotic rivermen that recognized Lady Bronwyn and fought to recover her.

"No, just that the truth is often hard to see--especially in a Bard's telling.




"Just to play the Devil Advocate, wouldn't you be prepared to fight for you lady against the henchmen of a tyrannical Duke that refused to conscience the passion of his sister's heart?" She shrugged  "I'm just saying."

She blinked.

"That's odd."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Sat 12 June 2021.

"What's odd?" Tolantra asked Edie.

"It might be nothing. Two ducal soldiers died from wounds inflicted by crossbow bolts, while none of the recovered weapons are crossbows. Likewise, the baron’s guardsman died of a knife wound to the back, while none of the recovered weapons are knives."

Her brow furrowed, "I'm not sure what that might imply."

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 116):

Heluvianal looked, watched, examined corpses.  Something was wrong.
Who is trying to start a war with whom? Was this made to look like what you think Tol or does this run deeper and is a 3 or 4 way conspiracy?

"The Duke's soldiers wouldn't be walking into a melee with knives, and I doubt that rivermen got the drop on them to execute a backstab like this. Heluvianal--would you mind looking at this wound? Is this the work of a longshoreman?  I don't see any other wounds here."

Olaf was ever a stout heart in the caves near Bowshot, but this business of man killing man for the sake of lords locked in disagreement disturbed him. "Ah, poor lads.  They cannot have sown many oats in this life. May the Mother's embrace console them and their passing be a boon to those that come after."

"Archers would have been covering from further back, and if the baron's men were fleeing, they would by force have turned their backs to their opponents." Tolantra shrugged. "I'm not great with a knife, but I'll throw mine if it's the only thing I have at hand. This looks fairly normal to me. But when they drag the baron back, they can ask him."

In reply to Celadhel Floshin (msg # 118):

Examining the Wounds, Heluvianal considered both his Herbalism training for any infections or poisons as well as his knowledge of knife Wounds from the animal kills he had done in the forest.

(ooc: Rolled a 2 for either Herbalism {made by 8} or Int {made by 10})

This wasn't a knife thrown in a crowd. The soldier has a single wound driven up from a low angle precisely and cleanly into a kidney.  Streetfighters might frequently jostle around such a wound looking for a vital area.  This one knew what he was striking for and knew that he had found it. In and out.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 122):

Heluvianal wasn't happy about what he discovered and it made him very nervous, looking around him as though searching for anyone hidden.

Then when he was sure he wasn't being watched or over-heard, he spoke This was an assassins blade strike, not, I repeat, NOT a random or purposed hit from a street fight or haphazardly thrown hand.  This has precision, no wonder only 1 strike killed them.

Everyone, be aware of those around you.  As I said earlier, Conspiracy and an attempt potentially at warm, even if just Baronies.  He made a careful note in case he needed to use this tactic himself in the future or watch out for it.

Tolantra nodded. "Good to know. I wish I had been at the fight and seen what happened. The baron still has crimes to answer for, but let's hope he's brought back in such a condition that he can also answer questions."

Taking a breath, Tolantra put the problem of the bodies out of her mind for the moment. Her team had been posted on the gate to keep watch, and it was time to do that. She spread her people out, finding good look-out posts for them. She wanted people looking in all directions, so if they were approached from the city or the countryside, she would have warning.

Scarcely ten minutes after you get the River Gate closed and locked down, six ducal soldiers in the duke’s livery arrive at the River Gate. Their commander announces that you have been relieved of duty and that the duke’s soldiers will be securing all the gates.

"I apologize for the confusion, but I'm acting directly on orders from Lord Llewellyn, who is commanding the town’s defense while the duke is in pursuit."

It's the middle of the night, and your only remaining standing orders from the Lawblade are:



Such orders and the emergency circumstances would provide a fairly wide latitude given the circumstances, and might even allow you to interview members of the court to discover who last saw Lady Bronywn.  Or perhaps you'd prefer to focus on Baron Agwain's men.  Then again, there are these vigilant riverman who seem to have sparked the entire affair--perhaps they bear investigating?

What do you do?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 125):

Heluvianal looks to Tol then Edrie, then back to Tol. This was out of his comfort zone, so he looks around and suggests I'll go chat with some of the others around here if that helps. Not that I'm good with talks but means still in area if needed.

He was sure he could do more but wasn't used to this guarding malarkey, too static.

Are you staying with the group?

If not (and that’s fine) are you looking into Bronwyn, Agwain, or the Rivermen?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 127):

Staying with group. Thought they were going to talk with those around!

Though it wasn't, strictly speaking, her business, Tolantra's sense of curiosity had been piqued. And folks back in the clanhome could attest to what happened when that was the case. Not the least interested in going back to sleep, she decided to accept the invitation and start poking her nose into things. Who knew? If Haela was kind, something could start poking back.

"Let's go talk with the rivermen. I want to know if any of them saw who our oh-so-precise stabber was."

In reply to Tol (msg # 129):

Heluvianal liked this Dwarf, Tol seemed to like being in charge and that meant he didn't have to think too hard.  He was more a doer.

Some initial questions of passersby indicates that while the action at the River Gate may be over, the Riverman's Quarter may just be getting harmed up.  It sounds like the ale is flowing freely at the Black Stone Inn.  Fairfortune Hall--a shrine to Tymora and gambling hall--too seems to be in high spirits.

Tol knows an adventuring priest of the Lucky Lady--Prospero.  It has been some time since the quest to avenge Baron Cromm Redhand, but his name and face is deeply entwined therein.

Tolantra smiled at the thought of Prospero. Their adventure together hadn't been exactly the stuff of song, but everyone had gotten out alive... eventually. And the presence of another cleric had meant she had been able to keep her secret without worrying about degrading the survivability of the group.

She turned her feet towards the gambling hall. Priests of Tymora had a tendency of hearing things, and she was curious to learn what Prospero knew.

Leaving the River Gate, the party starts up the Hill Road rather than cutting through the various alleys of the Riverman quarter.  The land rises along this road as you distance yourself from the river.  On your right rises the bluff one which the Ducal lands sit and on the edge of which is situated the Mikitan Shipyards (9) and the Ducal Stables (8).

Turning left down the Trade Way, the cobbles are kept in good order here at the edge of the Money Quarter. Here are the true masters of Daggerford. The people of this quarter invest in caravans rather than owning them and hire soldiers rather than train them.  Celadhel gives a salute to a vine-covered four story home on the corner of the Money Quarter (45).  It has a small footprint, and at four stories you'd call it a tower except that it distinctly looks like a home. "My uncle Darfin" Celadhel explains.

The Caravan Quarter is opposite the drill field to the South.  Fairfortune Hall (73) is within sight when you hear a scream of pain coming from a nearby building. This is the Physician's Order (63)--a fraternity of surgeons and priests practicing non-magical healing at a reduced price.  Normally they care for smaller matters--like wart removal or embalming, but it seems tonight they're tending wounded rivermen.

Fairfortune Hall is a great open air pavilion of rough hewn timbers held together with mighty bolts. Torches flicker, gutter, and pop from sconces.  Between the pillars of wood hang woolen drapes gathered with cords in the center to let the air in and avoid some measure of privacy but also to allow glimpses to passersby to pique their curiosity.

Within is the atmosphere of a festhall--unusual at both this place, this day, and this hour.  There is always gambling in Fairfortune Hall--its a holy rite--but this has the feel of a reckless abandon.  Tymorans celebrate Midsummer in this way, but in the winter?  And these don't all seem like Tymorans.

Figures in blue and white drift between the tables where the gamblers cast their dice.  Toward the back stands a tall and strong warrior cleric looking gallant in his mail and both excited and concerned about the proceedings.  Prospero.

Tolantra slid around the edge of the crowd, keeping one hand near her hammer and the other near her belt pouch. Not that she didn't trust Prospero to run a place infested with thieves, but this didn't seem like the normal crowd. And it certainly hadn't been a normal day.

When she got close enough, she raised a hand and waved at Prospero. "Prospero! Straight tunnels and pure ore to you. How goes the day?"

Prospero greets you warmly, "The day was fine!" he looks around perplexed, "this though! Every man a hero and earned a hero's reward, but none say from whence it came.
 I suppose it's the will of the goddess that so much of it will come here to rest."  He grins, but is also clearly concerned about the activity.  "You travel with new companions? Ah, but there is Edrie!  One face still familiar!" Prospero presses past to embrace the magician and greets her with a kiss on either cheek. "What brings you all here?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:11, Sat 18 Sept 2021.

"There was an attack earlier tonight at the River Gate," Tolantra said. "Someone brawling with the  rivermen. The Lawblade is handling the cleanup, and asked me to ask around, see what folks had to say." She nodded towards the gamblers. "Have you heard anything in particular from this group? And do you know if they have any particular leaders?"

"Jardak Seven-Mouths" Prospero intones. "He's something of a headman for dock laborers.  They call him that for his belly-aching over the seven-mouths he has to feed at home.  Sometimes his complaining gets everyone a raise. I haven't asked, but if I needed to know, that's who I'd start with."

Prospero gestures over his shoulder at an old dock worker with greasy salt and pepper hair leaning up against a back wall with a ceramic mug in his hand.  He is occasionally congratulated or thanked by members of the crowd, but does not participate in the festivities.

"Thanks, Prospero," Tolantra said. Giving him a quick clap on the arm, she headed towards the back wall. Once she got close enough, she hailed Jardak.

"Hail, Jardak. I heard a bit about the fight on the river." She patted her hammer to draw attention to it. "I wish I'd been there! Can you spare a moment to tell what happened?" She waved over a server and ordered a refill for what Jardak was drinking.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:05, Wed 02 Feb 2022.

Jardak scowls and pushes back his greasy hair. "One more fool casting coin like stones in the river. At least this one's cast my way." Jardak seems decidedly unfriendly.

The mechanics for adjusting NPC disposition are a bit clunkier in 2E than in later editions. We're going to call this a retro-skill challenge. You need 3 successes before 2 failures.  The free drink counts as the first.

Think of ways you could improve Jardak's disposition, and make a related ability or proficiency check. Success will get you all that he knows without violence.  Failure will get you half of that--without violence. The rolls can come from anyone in the party.

This message was last edited by the GM at 02:23, Mon 20 Sept 2021.

Tolantra chuckled, though inwardly she was wincing and hoping that this man wasn't as ornery as some of the devoted grumblers back in the clan. Still, she'd persevered there, and would try to do the same here. "Not so much a fool as that. I'm an honest smith. I make my coin with my sweat and my arms, just like you, and stand my watch with the militia like everyone else. I don't mind tossing around the coins my sweat has earned, and I like a good story. From what I hear, you know a good one. What say you?"

((ooc: Going for a Charisma check, since I'm kind of blanking on applicable NWP's.
1d20 = 6 Success.))

Jardak snorts.  "The coin's better when the stories aren't told, and I've seven moufs to feed at home." He sighs, "But what everyone knows don't cost nuffin'. From time to time folk need strong arms.  They'll come in the Black Stone and buy a round for the house.  They'll leave coin wif the bartender and whisper what needs doing.  Then sometimes it gets done. Same fing happened tonight, but not one of the usuals and a larger purse is all.  Promised us we'd be heroes for the Duchy. As if I can feed seven moufs at home wif heroism." His brown teeth a bared as he laughs at his own joke.

"But maybe you need to know something that everyone don't know. There's seven moufs wots needs feedin' in my house." His laughter fades away but his smile remains.

Tolantra debated just pulling out her coin purse and bribing the man, but it sat badly with her to just pay such an unpleasant man. Then she thought of a better idea. "With seven mouths, some of them must be getting older. Ready to make decisions about their life. We dwarves have a saying: 'a smith dies rich.' I have friends among the smiths; maybe I could arrange an apprenticeship? Training in a skill that could support a parent in old age. And, of course, a master pays for an apprentice's food."

((ooc: I don't think I've ever used Armorer in a role play environment, but here we go...
1d20 = 4. Easy success.))

In reply to Tol (msg # 142):

All this talk of mouths to feed reminds Heluvianal of the Dwarven village near his home, his family traded food for metal ores. Talking to the tavern server Any chance of some food for my friends and why not, anyone else who is hungry

Jardak's mouth gapes and works silently like a fish on land.

"I, I, I though you was just gonna gimme some coins. Are you serious? No fish guts? You'll apprentice one of me brats?"

Tolantra hesitated for a moment. What she had meant was that she would talk to one of the other smiths in town about taking on one of Jardak's kids as an apprentice. But she knew from experience that master smiths were picky about who they would take as an apprentice. And in all honesty, she was getting tired of forging by herself. Apprentices weren't just there to learn, they also did useful scutwork that kept the forge clean and operational, saving time for the master smith to focus on their own work.

So instead, what she said was, "I won't train someone who isn't genuinely interested in learning. I've seen too many lives ruined by being forced into something they aren't. And if she or he and I don't get along personally, I'll try to find a master they'll mesh with. But with that said, yes. I will."

"You come by me house then and have your pick. Within the month since you seem to be at work now."

"Here's wot I know wot's no one else does.  Lady Bronwyn had been writin' letters back and forth to Agwain for a month.  Her teacher--the court wizard--should know the truth o' that. I also be knowin' that the Baron and the Lady were with Delfargo the Baitseller before they were fallen upon by these heroes."

Tolantra nodded. "Once this latest crisis is over, I'll come. You have my word. And my thanks. Where can I find Delfargo at this time of day?"

Once she knew where to go, she gave Jardak a short bow, and headed out. She had a lead.

In reply to Tol (msg # 147):

As he had been accompanying Tol to talk with the river men, Heluvianal followed on to help find Delfargo.
As they moved through the city, he kept a watch out for those staring or being shifty, he mat have need of those later on.

((Just to verify, no one's interested in hitting up the Court Wizard?))

The party jogs down the city streets in the night, closely following the directions given by Jardak Sevenmouths.

The house of Delfargo the Baitseller sits at on the end of a wooden pier that sticks out into the Delimbyr River.  It's difficult to ponder how mighty the trees were that were felled in order to create the supports that allow this long peninsula of pine to stay above the water.  The boards are bleached by the sun and slick with algae, bird squeeze, and fish blood.  This pier, in many ways, serves as social security for Daggerford's poor.  If you don't have coin enough for food, you may yet have enough for bait. With a little skill and luck you might be able to pull one more day from the flowing waters for the cost of some cut bait.

At this hour of night only the most destitute Daggerforders can be found.  Folk missing legs and arms, or who have outlived their usefulness with no dutiful sons and no pension, or prostitutes too far past their prime or too disease ridden to be allowed in a festhall. Some sleep propped against one of the poles.  Others huddle around braziers.  Still others sit on the edge holding limp lines and staring at the River as if they've cast their last hope into its rippling rills.

Delfargo's Baitshop and home sit at the end of the pier with iron bars on the windows and iron bars on the door. A battered sign hung from a rope faces out painted red--indicating that there is no bait available.  On the reverse is painted green indicating the opposite.

Make Wisdom checks.

((ooc: Not yet for the court wizard, though that may change.

Wisdom check: 1d20 = 9. Made it easily.))

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 149):

(ooc:  Wisdom Check 10, needed 10 to pass.

Sorry, with the pills I've been on, when I read the thread on my mobile I missed the Court Wizard bit, will be heading that way in the morning)
Tol, these poor people, I'll head to talk with Lady Bronwyn's teacher, the Court Wizard in the morning, you don't wake a Wizard up when in deep sleep unless it's urgent.

Down below the pier you hear a commotion, "Look there!  Them skiffs the Rebel Baron stole! They're free inna water now. Get the boat, we gotta get 'em afore they float away!"

Something seems out of place on the bait sign, and you step forward to investigate.  You see that scratched into the edge of the sign are Sylvan moon runes. Because of the lights of the city the pure light of the moon and stars is only able to faintly illuminate the text--and Daggerforders wouldn't know what it is anyway.

It seems that Defargo the Baitseller is a fey creature in disguise, and that he is a guide to the otherside.

If you had to guess, Baron Agwain's escape route runs through your home, The Laughing Hollow.

It was strange to see such signs inbthe city or so close to one, the pier was probably the furthest place away from the city whilst still in the city. It dawned on him that will all these poor and 'throw-away people close by, it makes sense that a creature with a chaotic nature would encourage them to be near. Stranger still was the knowledge a Sylvan would find solace here, then again, it was surrounded by nature in the form of the river and power through lay lines sometimes flowed with the river! Defargo was probably using that to power his disguise.

Heluvianal goes back inside to speak with the owner. On finding him, he quietly speaks words no other would understand if overheard.

Tolantra glanced around at the others. "It sounds like the baron abandoned his boats. Either they're on the other side of the river, or they found something near here that allowed them to escape. Keep your eyes open." She nodded towards the Baitseller's house. "Maybe he knows more." Seeing that Heluvianal was heading inside, she followed closely.

There is no response.  If Delfargo is here, he is not responding.

"Why would they have gotten out of the boat? Or where? It's got to be hard going up stream like they were."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 156):

Heluvianal goes back outside and briefs Tol and Edrie as he sees them talking.
There is something about this place, like being back in the woods near my home.  It's the energy that flows.  I think Delfargo is Fey, not a bad one mind, some of us are really nice.  I like to consider that I'm at least part Fey.

I just get the feel that they headed up stream as though going towards my home.  Quicker by land but to get out of and away from the city, it would work but magic would need to be used.

He wasn't sure how right he was but it kind of made sense to him.

Tolantra pointed at Heluvianal when the green elf mentioned the forest. "That's why. The baron needed an unconventional escape route, because he knew that the whole town would be up in arms. Seize the boats, make it seem like they're going by water, then let them loose and take an unlikely overland route."

She turned to Heluvianal. "Can you lead us to your home? If we move quickly, we might be able to catch them."

In reply to Tol (msg # 159):

A shudder went through his body, would he be in trouble taking people to his home, would he have to answer for others?  Then realisation.

Yes, I can lead you to the place my home is in but I can not take you into the or close to the village.  There is a Dwarven settlement not far either but this is also hidden.  Leading you to the Woods would be my pleasure.  He wasn't sure if that was the right Tetiquiet (he wasn't sure how to say Etiquette but has managed once or twice before).
This message was last edited by the player at 13:59, Sat 26 Feb 2022.

This message was deleted by the player at 13:58, Sat 26 Feb 2022.

"Sorry, I mis-spoke. We don't need to go to your village. I meant the forest. I doubt the baron knows of your home, let alone would go there. But I think he's using the woods as an escape route."

She looked around at the rest of the group. "I know we were asked to investigate, but before we leave, do any of you have objections to a night chase into the forest?"

The Bladesinger grins eagerly, "Edrie and I can run and retrieve our horses from the stables.  Meet us at the Farmer's Gate.  That'll be the fastest route!"  In short order she drags the wizard along with her.

"...sure!" Edrie exclaims as she's yanked away.

The bearded priest strokes his long yellow beard and intones, "The Mother makes the sun for labor and the moon for rest. But when there are brigands in the fields, one may have many a restless night securing the fruits of honest labor. We shall do this thing."
This message was last updated by the player at 00:21, Sun 27 Feb 2022.

Let me know if you're doing anything in particular between here and the Farmer's Gate. Additionally, a marching order for the road would be helpful.

((ooc: I want to send a messenger to the Lawblade explaining what we've found and that we're chasing the baron towards the forest. Otherwise, I'm good to go.))

It's about 35 miles along the Shining Trail to reach the Laughing Hollow.  Riding you can make it in about eight hours--a little less if you're pushing it.  That should still get you there ahead of Baron Agwain and his party since they'll have to walk a ways by foot after abandoning their boats.

If you're looking for evidence and clues of their passing, you'll need to move about half-speed.

How do you wish to proceed?

Just want to get this choice made before I start putting together the narration.

In reply to Edrie Graf (msg # 164):

Edrie, we need to let the master know we'll be gone.  Thank you for volunteering.
Turning to Tol If we travel a few hours fast, I'll point in the right direction, I can transform into a mouse so there would be spaces on the horses again, after that, I'll need to guide you and we can slow to see if we can find anything around or do that first and then go fast?  Sorry, my mind is rushing at the thought of going near home.

Hooves thunder down the trail in the night as the party doubles down on their hunch. The Shining Trail is little used since the founding of the Delimbyr Route.  On the higher plains danger may be seen from far off.  Here the trail is thinly carved between the Sword Hills and the River Delimbyr. In those hills Uthgardt and Orc Tribes stalk one another at the base of Mount Illefarn and passers by may prove a tempting target for the young leader of a war band. And then there are the beasts that both tribes sing of in their camps, and more civilized men whisper of in dread.

Such hard riding is an unaccustomed trial for most. Edrie clearly deeply regrets this choice, and even the fierce Celadhel seems as worn as the horses are like to be at the end of this wild ride.  The horses are mouths froth from the effort, and their sweat freezes in your pants as your cloaks billow behind you.

Before long the trail plunges into a forested darkness and the pace must slow, the trail no longer easily lit by the light of Selûne.  This forest is as different from the woods around bowshot as night is from day. In Daggerford they say it is full of alien beings from the other side, and that desperate men may betimes seek the denizens here to assuage their anguish. The price the faeries demand is said to be dear--perhaps dire.

In the tales of dwarves they speak of fine marble and granite was once mined here after the forest had been clear cut in elder days.  They gave up those mines because the forest would always reappear.  Not regrow--but return. Their trunks and limbs exhibit idealized and fantastical forms, and the leaves seem watchful.

Here are the boughs in which Heluvianal was reared beneath the watchful peace of the King of the Woods, Melandrach. Melandrach himself is nearly mythical among the wood elves, his mind and body slipping between worlds as easily as crossing the threshold of a house.  These elves long since foreswore palaces for hammocks and wizardry for woodlore. But the woodlore of these woods is more magical than any secret in the books of the Yellowknife.

((Pausing here to allow for reactions.))

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 170):

As a mouse, Heluvianal snuggled into the Cloak hood of the nearest companion. He was warm, secure, comfy, tiny. He still felt the forest looming in the distance, the magic eminating through the lands surrounding the trees.

Climbing out of the Cloak, he notices the riders slow at the imminent darkness of the forest and changes back into his normal form behind the rider just before entering.

Home, this is my home, the eyes you feel on you are real, they are the animals, the trees, the plants, the people and the land itself. He then told then some important history (ooc: What the GM posted)

Heluvianal was strangely calm and almost floating in his words, different to the nervous, naive apprentice of the city.

Tolantra watched as Heluvianal transformed from a mouse into an elf. She was a little uneasy at the blatant display of magic, but had to admit a tiny twinge of envy as well. "That's a nice trick. Is that something all elves can do?"

Not getting down from her horse, Tolantra scans the trees and the trail around them. "Do you think we've gotten ahead of them? I have no skill at reading tracks. We can't press on at this rate forever, but if they're still beyond us we don't want to let them build a lead we can't surmount."

In reply to Tol (msg # 172):

No, well, I don't think Elves can in general.  It is just a trinket I have that works as you saw.  Very useful for disappearing and getting to the top of trees as long as I'm careful about hawks.

I can see if the peoples of the woods have seen anyone matching what we know of the Duke. I won't be able to get good details but should be something.  I'll need to walk in alone but won't be long.

Making sure he had some seeds and fruit, he walks away from the group and into the start of the forest.  There he whistled and chirped and tried to attract some of the denizens of the Forest.  It had been over a year since he was last here and wasn't sure if the friends of the woods would hear or listen, he could talk with them but not understand what they say, only try to get them to understand signs and signals for directions.  He gave it a go.

To Heluvianal's indigenous eyes it is not long before they find tracks marking the passage of humans. Spurred on, and seemingly renewed by evidence that their hunch was right the group forges ahead.  Suddenly, a volley of arrows flies over your head, obviously a warning to stop. A man rises from behind some rocks amid the forest to one side of the trail. He looks down on you. “Go back where you came from, folks,” he says. “The baron and his new lady want to be left in peace, and we aim to make sure they stay that way.”
This message was last updated by the GM at 15:42, Sun 06 Mar 2022.

The priest trembles with rage, "The Beasts of the Wild may choose their mates so, but not the men of the city. More is required than the wanton lust of a young lord! Let us pass! Or we shall play the shepherd to your ragged wolf pack!"

Celadhel rolls her eyes at yet another pastoral metaphor. "Be sure not to refer to Lady Bronwyn as an ewe when we're in her presence, Olaf."

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 174):

Indignant for probably the first time in his life, The Wood Elf couldn't help himself.

I am back where I come from, I live in these words and I'm escorting my friends, now get out of our way.  And for your information, we were told Lady Bronwyn didn't want to go with the Baron. Is that true?

He started out well, worked well in the middle and may have fallen at the end.  He was puffing his chest out and walking forward, his bow in hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:28, Mon 07 Mar 2022.

"What's my Lord's business is none of yours! Be off or you'll be feathered--but we have no need of tar!"

Tolantra grinned at the man. "I want to thank you. Here I was, uncertain whether or not we'd gotten ahead of the traitorous baron. And here you are, a helpful signpost. Now stand aside, or the crows will take your eyeballs." As she spoke, she glanced around surreptitiously, trying to mark the locations of the other would-be ambushers.

The speaker smirks and speaks, "You talk like a farmer, Goldilocks.  Compost him!"

Six arrows leap from the brush betraying the positions of the rearguard.  Two before, and two to either side, each spaced about twenty feet from the other. Half of the arrow find their home in Olaf's flesh before a second flight of arrows springs up. On the second shot they each pick a target.

The second arrows all miss their mark.  The most well aimed is lodged in the Tol's breast plate, but the dwarven steel held true.  Still, there will be a bruise.

Roll initiative.

((The bowmen are about 200' off, and will require a charge if you're going to hit them this round with a melee weapon))
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:40, Thu 10 Mar 2022.

Tolantra charged the leader, intending to drop him as quickly as possible. The thought of Branwen taken against her will had been dragging up all sorts of horrible memories from her time in the clanhome, and what she had worried might happen to her. As Haela was her witness, it was not going to happen here.

Racing ahead, she slammed her hammer into the archer's chest, driving him backwards half a step and snarled at him.

((ooc: Attack: 1d20+8 (bonus to damage)
Damage: 1d4+11 = 12))

Taking note of Tol's charge, the Native Woodsman come Wizard pulled his magical bow around, pulled the empty string and watched the arrow appear out of the air before releasing the string and the arrow flying straight towards the location of the would be haranguer. It was going yo be close but never know, either way, that arrow wouldn't have been coming back if it had been a wooden one.

The Arrow hits the Rock and Shatters

Initiative = 8
Plus Bow = +8 = 16
Attack = 9 -5 (Long Range) = 4 -cover
Damage = 15

((ooc: Heluvianal, bows in 2e get 2 attacks per round.

Also, the enemy is 200' away. Short range for a long bow with flight arrows is up to 210 feet. It's 150 feet for a long bow with sheaf arrows or a short bow, so you're at most medium range and possibly short range, depending on what kind of bow and arrows you're using.))

(ooc: It's a magical strength bow, therefore Composite Longbow, arrows are magically created so would be Sheaf. Thank you for reminder of 2 shots per round.)

Attack: Bow = 20 +1 elf bonus =21, at med range -2 = 19 = AC 0 50% cover give -4 to hit.
Total would be hit AC4
Damage: Bow = 14
This message was last edited by the player at 02:35, Sun 13 Mar 2022.

Strings thrum, men scream, steel scrapes on steel, and the mysterious looming peace of the forest is shattered. It's clear that this rearguard is blooded and experienced.  Two of them successfully launch arrows that land in Edrie's flesh (6hp). Her Magic Missile repays one in kind (6hp), but he is left still fit to fight.

Tol, as ever, plunges straight ahead. The archer grins and looses a shaft that perfectly finds its mark (8hp).  Tol fouls the follow-up shot of the spokesman, and fouls his face besides landing a truly savage blow (2hp remaining).

Heluvianal and his target trade arrows.  The human barely draws blood (1hp), but is forced to draw his last breath as the native power of Heluvianal's bow is revealed. It's seldom that one sees an arrow pass entirely through a human body. He sends another arrow sailing through the flesh of another before the first corpse falls. It's frankly frightening.

Celadhel dances forward seeming to execute forms midstride to make her a harder to target to feather.  Her blade makes quick work of the one who ate Edrie's sorcery.

Olaf returns fire with his sling, but his only the squirrels are bothered by his efforts.

Three archers remain.  One engaged in Melee with Tol, and two who are still free to fire at will. Tol's opponent throws down his weapons and shouts, "Quarter!" The other two flee into the forest.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:31, Sun 27 Mar 2022.

Tolantra glanced at Celadhel and Heluvianal, who were probably the best capable of chasing through a forest. "Don't let them get away!"

That taken care of, she leveled her warhammer at the man who had surrendered. "Start talking. Where is your baron going, how far ahead of us he, and how many people does he have with him?"

Celadhel nodded and ran after the archers. She had spells she could use, but if she could manage to catch them that would be so much more efficient.

((ooc: Do elves get a bonus for chasing humans through a forest?))

In reply to Tol (msg # 186):

Running through the woods was how Heluvianal cut his teeth, literally,  as was firing on the run.

The first shot was fired as the enemy turned, for that is what they were, sailing through the air with almost the same precision as the first but with less hiding them, hitting him square in the back, then he moved and drew the string back as he used a low rock to lift into the air like jumping from bough to bough in the trees themselves.

So pleased was he with his first shot and the leap from the rock, that Heluvianal fired straight down at the floor, the magical arrow splitting the rock below instead of the 2nd enemies back. He continued running, berating himself for not paying attention.

initiative 10
Attack1: Bow = 16
Damage1: Bow = 13
Tumbling = 15
Attack2: Bow = 5 (rolled 1)
Damage2: Bow = 15

This message was last edited by the player at 22:58, Tue 05 Apr 2022.

Heluvianal's arrows streak through the air with deadly speed and precision.  One of the fleeing soldier is mortally wounded.  You can hear him sniveling prayers to his god or his mother one.  The other's life ends so suddenly he probably runs several steps in the afterlife before realizing he's there.

The spokesman spits on the ground at Tol's feet. "If that's what you call quarter, I've nothing for you."

Tolantra shrugged. "As you wish. Perhaps the next thug will think twice before grabbing a woman who doesn't want you."

She dispatched the thud with a single, precise blow and then walked back towards her horse. "Good shooting, Heluvianal. Olaf, can you see to Edie? We need to get moving. We're on the right track, and I don't want to leave Bronwyn in their clutches."

Heluvianal kept running, found the two bodies, one still with life, the other not, he shoulders his bow then carries a body under each arch.

Lowering the body, This one is no more and this one still breathes, barely but he does.The arrows no longer in the wounds but also no sign of them either.

Let's go, leading the way, the Wood Elf was home, he hadn't been back since before his apprenticeship started but now he was wild and free once more.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:16, Thu 07 Apr 2022.

Uktar 8, 1357--The Year of the Prince Afternoon

The Autumn sun shines with warmth as the party proceeds down the road.  The rich and comforting scent of manure abounds as you pass by the pastures and farms.  Farm folk scratch their heads at the sight of travelers coming from the Laughing Hollow, but then shrug as they see the strange make up of the party.

Before long the walls of Daggerford come into view.  Baron Agwain glowers, but Lady Bronwyn places a calming hand upon his shoulder.

Lady Bronwyn says, "You have been most gracious in escorting me, and dutiful in pursuing me.  I seldom enter the city without my personal guards.  May I ask you to take up this charge today?  We will bypass the line at the Farmer's Gate and proceed down the Duke's Way to the Castle.  Doubtless the Duke will wish to speak with and reward my rescuers.  If you agree, we can pause for a moment for some tidying up.  To be a bit more presentable?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 191):

Having returned to his usual state of being for travelling as a mouse (a well dressed handsome mouse) once the body had been retrieved. He changes back when the procession stops outside the city.

If I may your Ladyship and Baron, I'll take the lead of the horses and walk you through.  He knew where the Gates were and adjusted himself to look good. Mostly he wanted to do this so nobody talked to him.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Tue 19 July 2022.

Tolantra bowed in the saddle. "Of course, Lady Bronwyn. We would be honored to be your escorts. And while I sympathize with the desire for a bath..." she didn't, but realized that occasionally you needed to be diplomatic, "I think it's probably wisest if we make straight for the castle. We were not the only searchers, and there will be many glad to see you."

Bronwyn sniffs discontentedly, but says nothing.  She does her best to wipe some of the road grime from her hands and face.

The Farmer's Gate bustles as usual during the harvest season.  Militiamen from the town keep order along the road. Interspersed throughout the crowd there are a few daringly attired ladies that seem to be chatting up the farmers and their hired hands.  A farmer makes all of his money at one time of year, and there are always an enterprising souteneurs down from Waterdeep to try to take their fair share. The Dukes of Daggerford have always been austere men, though, and no festhall has ever been allowed to operate openly within the walls.

A few of Olaf's brethren are present accepting tithes on behalf of Chauntea's faithful as farmers bring their harvests to market. They look askance at Olaf's bondage, but given highborn company he rides in, they say nothing directly.  You do note, however, that a younger Chauntean acolyte is sent running back through the gate--presumably to fetch a priest of sufficient bearing to address the Lady of Daggerford.

With a few words the militiamen wave you on to the proper guards.  The guards, in turn offer bows and an escort on foot.  The escort, accordingly draws first eyes, then attention, and finally shouts--for good and ill.  Some are happy to see Bronwyn returned.  Others fling insults and cabbages toward Baron Agwain Delantar.

What do you do?

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 194):

If any cabbages or other catchable food stuffs are flung anywhere near Heluvianal, he will attempt to intercept them and pass on to anyone looking hungry.  Chances are he'll end up with lots of food in no time with nowhere to send it, he'll make a game of it, juggling in an attempt to stop others from throwing stuff at the high born.

((ooc:  Please let me know how many Dex checks you want, he'll even leap a few times too if need be, not too many times though.))

Tolantra kept an eye out for trouble as they rode through the city. She didn't mind the vegetables; to her mind the baron deserved worse. But she didn't want someone to fling daggers instead.

On the Olaf front, she hoped there was a priest powerful enough to break the fey spell. He would probably appreciate being treated "in house," as it were, rather than getting hauled in front of some wizard. But she doubted that he would be living it down any time soon.

((ooc: Aside from keeping an eye out for actual attackers, Tolantra just wants to deliver the pair as quickly as possible.))

Heluvianal does his best to turn the rabble rousing into a charity game by snatching food from the air and redistributing it.  His dexterity--preternatural even among the elves--makes this an easy task. Baron Agwain glowers at the general lack of intervention by his escort for his safety and dignity, a matter made somewhat less intimidating by the remains of an egg sliding down the lobstered steel of his plate mail.

As it happens, the expansive Harvest House Shrine of Chauntea is on the way to the Ducal Castle.  The Patron Priestess--a Druid--Maerovyna interposes on the party to inquire as to Olaf's disposition. She is clothed in a simple white cassock and carries  a walking staff of white wood that features live branches at the top.  Her auburn tresses are wreathed in laurel leaves, and a heavy splash of bright red freckles are prominent across her nose and cheeks. The farmers fall to a hush as the holy woman speaks. "Has he committed some crime?"

Olaf cries, "Is it a crime to love?"

"Apparently," Baron Agwain sneers.

Celadhel rolls her eyes hard.  This is unusual coming from the normally strait laced bladesinger, but its clear she's had enough at this point. "He-of-the-Agricultural-Metaphors is bewitched by Nixies. Lady Bronwyn informs us that a simple Dispel Magic should rectify the situation, but only if it is performed before sundown.  May we release him to your ministrations?" The question is posed both to Tol and Maerovyna.
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:08, Thu 21 July 2022.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 197):

Heluvianal didn't see the egg until it was too late, at least it didn't hit Lady Bronwyn.  As they arrived at the House of Chauntea, he stopped handing out vegetables unless someone asked for them and passed them on to the Harvest House Shrine attendees to redistribute, keeping an apple for himself after checking it was ok (by Wood Elf standards, this just mean it wasn't visibly rotting or housed any creatures).  Other than this silent passage of goods, he made no move or sound, he felt his place was as it currently was, Escort to the Noble Houses, he felt he had gone up in the world of man.

Tolantra bowed in her saddle. "Our apologies for Olaf's rather embarrassing circumstances. We did not wish to lose him to the nixies for a year, and anything less extreme had him trying to run off and join them. Please, take him with our blessing, and I hope his compulsion is easy to break."

"Guide him in, please," Maerovyna directs some of her acolytes.

"My thanks to you and your party for taking good care of our brother.  We'll see him returned to you once he is well." The druidess bows to Lady Bronwyn, "I am happy to see that you have returned, milady.  I hope you fare well at court."

Lady Bronwyn inclines her head to the druidess and responds, "True hearts have no fear in the court of the Duke of Daggerford. The harvest seems strong, it is the season of the Earthmother and I am gratified to receive your well-wishes in the midst of the harvest."

The druidess bows again, "All seasons belong to the Earthmother. Every season has its own meaning. Spring to grow, Summer to mature, Autumn to harvest the fruits, and winter to recuperate. All are necessary. It is a truth that is helpful to remember in trying times." With that, the priestess returns to her shrine, and the party stirs toward the gates.

Moonglow tower, with its spired dome is the last sight before entering the kill box at the gatehouse of Daggerford Castle. Two story curtained stone walls rise starkly from the top of an escarpment.  The construction has no trick to it aside from its height and thickness.  Tol is reminded that this is a brutal land, and that Daggerford is naught but a remnant of a remnant of a succession of Fallen Kingdoms. Thick wall and tall were all the artifice the doomed survivors could likely muster. Courage and strength saved what remains when grace, beauty, and wisdom had failed them. Trotting beneath the murder holes is an eery feeling for all.

A wide bailey filled with orchards and fruit bearing hedges fills the space between the outer curtain wall and the inner keep wall. The fruit could fill the defenders in a time of siege or give cover to defenders after the walls had been broken. A second gate house and wall stand before the keep--and that wall is studded by a total of six more towers.  The four corner towers are like castles in their own right. The blue and gold standard of the Duke--seldom seen in the town--is present every where here. The Duke's guard, knights, and liveried servants are in evidence everywhere.  It's as if you're on another planet.

One liveried servant with gray hair and a stoop to his shoulders greets you at the steps of the keep. He is flanked by a pair of guards and six more junior servants. "Word has reached my lord of your arrival.  He wishes you all to be washed and fed and brought to him." Upon seeing the corpse tied to the back of Tol's horse, he pauses, "Oh my.  We were not told that you had suffered losses.  Much will be answered for."

He claps his hands twice, and the servants move to each of you to assist you in dismounting.  They politely request your arms and armor, assuring you that it will be cared for--polished and sharpened--but that it cannot be borne in the presence of the Duke of Daggerford. That is a privilege reserved for the Knights of Daggerford and bonded Paladins. Maidens follow shortly thereafter with basins and gauze for cleansing and the binding of wounds.

The two guards move toward Baron Agwain, which he protests.  Lady Bronwyn scolds the men, "Unhand him! He is a Shining Baron of the Council of Man!"

"He's a blackhearted criminal my lady, and we're to take him into custody."

Baron Agwain calls to Tol and the party, "I am under the protection of your escort. Will you allow me to be accosted so? Is this the extent of your honor?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:09, Mon 25 July 2022.

When Heluvianal had returned from mouse form, nobody noticed the lack of bow being held, especially as they got closer to the town and he escorted the nobles through the gates. Nor did anyone wonder how he could hold his bow and spear as he caught vegetables 🤔.


So when entering the keep and asking for weapons, Heluvianal handed over his Dagger and knife and smiled. When the Baron was to be accosted and exclaimed, he felt town Lady, your orders! He knew he could intercede but wasn't sure he should, he was escorting Lady Bronwyn and by extension, Baron Agwain.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:54, Mon 25 July 2022.

Tolantra held up a hand. "The baron is here of his own volition, as an act of good faith to mend this rift." She blinked as she ran out of pompous words. Shrugging, she continued. ""We brought him back because there's more going on here than seems obvious, and the Duke should know before anything permanent happens to anyone. Can we go in?"

The guardsmen seem to take you at your word. Whether this is out of reverence for your deeds, or because of your association with the local clan of dwarves is unclear. "Then you are responsible for his conduct, Tol."

At the doors to the Duke's hall where is court meets to facilitate the business of the duchy you are greeted by a herald.  Your names are taken and you are told that you will be announced.

Your journey from the vibrant south has held many disillusioning experiences.  The bustling cities and cacophony of colors that may be beheld in the great cities slowly faded to a simpler palette.  The great intrigues and nuances of social interactions of the southern courts are legendary.  The Duke of Daggerford's court is a somber and simple affair by contrast.  In his enormous hall, there are few people and the entirety of it has more the feel of a fortress than a seat of authority.

There is an old father with a lustrous white beard attired in the clean white robes of a Moonshae Druid and bearing a white oak staff with green branches sprouting from the top.

The dark eyed Master of the Hunt lingers near the back of the Court with a pair of hunting hounds obediently sitting near him without leashes.  Faintly pointed ears betray his half-elven heritage. From campfire discussions you know that he is some relation to Celadhel and called Kelson Darktreader.

A spritely gnome with a jewel seemingly mounted on his forehead, but with neither chain nor mount. He stands near the druid.

Lastly, in attendance is Lord Llewellyn Longhand, the Duke's Master-of-Arms.  Tall, fair-haired, and lordly in appearance, he is responsible for the maintenance and training of the Duke's personal forces.  If war comes to Daggerford, it is Longhand that would lead the defense.  He stands at the elbow of the Duke of Daggerford himself.

Duke Pwyll "Greatshout" Daggerford, Duke of Calandor, King of Man, Shining Lord of the Sword Hills, and Warden of the Lizard Marsh is a young man, tall of stature and bright of hair and eye.  It is clear that he has not slept easily but is poised on the edge of his seat like a cat ready to pounce.

This, aside from a few servants and knights, is the Ducal Court of Daggerford.

((I'll pause here))

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 203):

He had heard of the court from his master but never even got to outside the door although there was that one time...but nobody knows about that time he thinks to himself. He watches and listens intently, watching for motions, emotions and furtive eyes.

It is clear from the beginning that this Court will not stand on ceremony.  The Duke makes no acknowledgement of either the baron or his sister. The bright eyes of the duke burn with fury, but his tone remains composed.

"Loyal militiamen, you are to be congratulated.  You have succeeded where my knights and guards have failed. Your valor and prescience are strong commendations of your worth. I note that neither of your charges are bound and have returned of their own free will, so your former virtues are seasoned with wisdom and eloquence too unless I miss my mark. In the presence of such assembled virtue a wise ruler should listen--" the Druid nods in agreement "--so I would hear from your lips the nature of your investigation and the disposition of your charges when you acquired them."

The assembled court leans in to listen. The silence is deafening.