The sun was not yet past mid-afternoon when the group arrives in town. Between the four remaining at the tomb, the strength of Kharash, and the word of Gammon to let no harm come to the armory, you are able to get the contents of the chest into town. Little bothers you, save for the occasional deer or rabbit that crosses your path. As for Maypole, the town is bustling with activity in anticipation for the completion of the competition and the victory celebration for the tourney. It is easy to tell that someone was on the look out for a returning group because as soon as you are within sight of the festivities horns sound and a crowd appears to celebrate your return.

Not long after that, a squad of city watch, joined by a pair of Argonauts, gathers around you to keep the worst of the crowd at bay. Given little choice, you are guided back to the pavilion for rest and refreshment. Griswold is there, escorted from the tavern after staying the night before. You are given a few hours of rest, heavily guarded from curious onlookers from the festival. It seems a frighteningly short time before a page, a very well kept human girl, enters the tent and announces that the ceremony is starting.

You are directed to the tourney grounds only to be met with more pomp and fanfare. The stands are filled to capacity and it looks like many are trying to get any vantage point they can get to. Several of the small shed and building in the area have people on top of them. A small knot of knights holding the trophies of various tourney events stands close by, absorbing the praise of the crowd even if it is not directly for them. Griswold recognizes Sir Roderick of Carsen as the melee champion. A large Custodian looks to be the jousting champion. Surprisingly, a person who do not recognize their affiliation has won the bow. As usual, a gaudily dressed halfling has won the tournament of songs.

Lady Inara is up on the podium stage, gesturing for your group to approach. When you are all assembled and the crowd has quieted after some prompting, she started speaking, her voice booming in that unusual way as before.

"Citizens of the Empire, visitors from foreign lands, boys and girls of all races, I present to you, your heroes!", she says to thunderous applause. It takes a few minutes for the crowd to settle down but she continues on after they do. "They have returned triumphant from the Forgotten Tomb, setting an old soul to rest as true heroes. Their noble warrior has brought the sword of the hero back from obscurity and taken up his mantle! To commemorate such an achievement, they were promised a great reward! To meet one of the legendary Roses in person!",she says. As if on cue, from one of the tents near the pavilion, a hooded figure stepped forward.

Already you can seen this is no mere man. His frame easily dwarfs any around him as he stands outside the tent. With a dramatic flourish, he removes the hooded cloak, revealing a true giant. The massive frame, easily close to ten feet and likely 50 stones, is dressed in a set of half plate mail. On the breastplate is an etched and painted symbol of a rose. The coarse brown hair and sloping forehead contrast sharply with a ornately jewel circlet. By his side is a great sword, though you can tell he likely can use it as a longsword easily.

The giant moves forward with a smile on his face, something odd and disturbing about it, though it seems genuine. He stands next to the stage, still maintaining eye level despite its raised nature. His voice booms with ease and authority. "I am Sir Morton the Vast, representative of our Emperor's Helmets of the Rose. I have come to make good on the Emperor's promise for this contest. The group before you has done well. They have served loyally and proved their worth! In order to recognize this accomplishment, I am authorized to make the following decree," Sir Morton said as he paused to collect his thoughts.

He continued in the previous tone, gesticulating as he spoke in an appropriately dramatic manner. "The Emperor decrees the from this day forward, those who stand before you shall be the founding members of his Adventuring Guild. They shall be tasked with spreading his influence across the lands and inspiring those with feats of daring and heroics. In a year hence, the guild shall be open to all, provided you have shone the same heroics and proven them in a suitable quest. A guild hall is currently being constructed in Sigheim for registration. Now, everyone cheer for your newest Adventurers!"

The roar is nearly deafening. The adulation and admiration is palpable as Sir Morton makes a show of pulling a few items from a pocket. When you see them fully, they are broaches made of gold and glass. They appear to be knotwork of the Kriegian style, set with green, red, and blue glass balls. He hands each of you one and when complete, allows you to bask in the praises of the crowd.

He turns to your group and in a much lower voice, speaks. "We will speak after this. We have much to discuss as you can imagine." He turns back and begins to wave to the crowd.

OOC: Congratulations! You have completed the trials and moved on to the next stage of the story! You have also all leveled up! Welcome to level 3!

For a moment Arizima hesitates when a broach is offered to her.  It almost looks like she might try to refuse but suddenly she tilts her head as if in thought or listening before suddenly snatching the glass and gold from the Rose's hand with a sudden surety.  She gives the others an almost imperceptible shrug.  "What?"

Broach in hand she turns back to the crowd with an amused grin giving them a small wave.  Beyond that she seems content to simply wait out the presentation of the various until it's time to leave the stage.

When the others found Griswold in the pavilion, he greeted them with a broad smile and open arms, but soon wandered off.  Leaving the tent by an inconvenient route underneath its tarp.  Or tried to, at lest.  He soon reappeared, led back in through the main entrance by two disgruntled guards.  Multiple times he disappeared, only to return a few moments later with the same two - increasingly annoyed - guards.  Apparently under tent arrest, he sporadically filled the others in on his trip back between failed escape attempts.

As he told it, he had stayed close to Farissa and the other youths on the way back.  Amongst Lady Inara's travelling companions was a Knightly Grandmaster that Griswold had quickly befriended.  He learnt that the final event was not scryed upon, but that Lady Inara had instead lain some sort of magical alarm upon Roland - and only Roland - to monitor his well-being.  This alerted her to the dangers at the barrow.  The half elf had therefore taken it upon himself to regale everyone with the glorious tale of their group's heroics.

Things were going well, until they reached Maypole, where he'd hurriedly been escorted to the tavern and made to remain there ever since.  Supposedly to not spoil any surprise for the crowds.  He did not know what had become of Farrissa, Chris or the others and no one else knew that he had quit the tourney or would accept him leaving it now, lest it mar the celebrations.

Oh, and there was something about being called upon to stand witness at Lady Inara's trial.

During the award ceremony, Griswold barely paid any attention to the cheering crowds or the Rose.  Both of which would have thoroughly excited him just a few days ago.  Instead, he scanned the horde for Maypole's youths.  His acceptance of the brooch was all but unconscious.

Unused to such ceremonies, Sul followed the others, waving shyly at the roaring crowds with his right hand as his left rested on the pommel of his order's sword. It was still a bit nostalgic of his time in training before joining the acolytes, and he couldn't help his thoughts as they roamed.

Soon though, his attention was captured by the knight as he watched with interest at the Giant's entrance.

"The Emperor's guild?" He questioned. He hadn't known anything about that. His mind whirled about that new information as he accepted the broach with a bow, even as a frown crossed his features. _{"Too much..."} he mumbled to himself quietly before taking a deep breath and smoothing his features.

He nodded to the Knight and continued waving to the crowd. They did indeed have much to discuss...

Wrenn participated in the...event...announcement...thing, as best he could considering he had no idea what was going on, or what most of these things meant. He got the whole adventuring guild thing, but everything else was weird. He accepted the broach and mimicked the actions of others in the group for the sake of pleasing the roaring crowds, but he had no idea what was actually happening or what these things meant.

He smiled and laughed at the attention the group was receiving, but mostly at the fact that the country who despised who he was and what he represented, was now publicly honoring him. He was half tempted to exercise his arcane talents right now, in front of the lot of them. In fact, he was more than half tempted...

Kharash had sheepishly followed the directions given to them as they were guided from the town's edge to the pavilion and on to the tourney grounds. Throughout the ceremony his expression remained neutral, only raising a few scales above one eye at the mention of them becoming the founding members of an adventuring guild. "We do indeed," he softly answered the giant of a man.

He wasn't one for big crowds, and besides the first trial he had no experience with acting in public on this scale. He decided it wasn't his favorite thing, but understood the importance - a necessary evil of sorts. They could always talk about the details of this new guild and perhaps even decline, but if they would continue with it, it might be better to leave a good impression on these people.

After receiving their tokens, he stepped forward, standing taller and with his head held higher than before. His gaze slowly moved along the stands filled with people. He then shook his fist into the air, and let out a loud roar of victory.

The ceremony ends with a roar that matches the intensity of Kharash's own as a fitting punctuation to the day. Sir Morten smiles and laughs, at one point herding a small child that had managed to break free and run towards the stage. Once the applause dies down, he concludes the ceremony and guides your group back to the pavilion tent. Despite how large the tent is, comfortable for over a dozen people, his head still graces the top at points.

He gestures to the food and drink table as he hauls in a carved stump, an obvious replacement for a stool since they could not bear his weight. Drinking from a giant-sized flagon, Sir Morten grunted as the sound of moving armor and weapons can be heard. After a moment, the last light of sunset showed the silhouettes of soldiers surrounding the tent. Two figures then entered unceremoniously.

The first was a tall, slender man. His features marked him as a Silver elf save for his opalescent icy blue eyes. His robe war dark colored and starry, the stars themselves revealed to be tiny gems. A well wrought staff completed the look of a mage. He nods in greeting to Sir Morten.

Next to him was a short, almost delicate looking female figure. The rich leather armor accentuated her every feature but a trained eye could easily see the protection such armor provided. You can guess female based on the form of the armor, but her face is hooded and covered with a striking, full-faced pink and black harlequin mask.

Before anyone can say anything, the masked woman spoke. "They really don't look like much, Mort. Are you sure these are the one Kalaryl challenged?", she said dismissively.

Sir Morten replied with a tone that smacked of annoyance. "Don't be an ass, Whisper. Like us, they are more than they appear to be. The young gnome there unraveled the vile spell using little but his wits. I would say that qualifies for some respect."

It was the elf's turn to speak. "Interesting. I did not foresee such an eclectic group. Yet they stand before us, trial complete," he said and gestured to the group to sit. "Come, speak to us of the trial. Did you not find them suitable for future adventurers?", he asks quizzically as he makes a gesture and one of the stool flies to rest beneath him. The woman simply huffs and grabs her own seat with a glare at the mage.

Arizima's eyes aparkle with amusement at the banter between Whisper and Sir Morten before she chooses her own stool toward the edge of the group and sits delicately.  She gives the elf a brief stare before her shoulders shrug.  "I was not one of your competitors from the start so I can't speak for your earlier trials.  I was hired to assist a group of easily frightened children.  Once they fled I found myself wandering into their camp..."  she waves vaguely at the others.  "A few minor discoveries and a handful of clumsy dead destroyed later and apparently I was somehow co-opted into your celebration.  In spite of the Lady Inara's rather insistent statements to the contrary."

She frowns her carefree attitude vanishing.  "As for what I did see... No.  I don't think I agree.  Oh certainly the threat was minor enough for a well coordinated group to handle I'm not going to dispute that.  But out of the three groups that were mustered to meet this challenge one ran screaming at the first sign of the dead and one was completely and woefully unprepared for such a challenge it seemed.  Quite frankly if we had been slower to arrive by a matter of moments the evisceration of several local youth would have cast a rather grisly pall over your celebrations."

She shrugs at the Silver elf.  "I understand that the exact shape of the challenge we faced might not have been intentional.  But I also understand that this was apparently some opening gambit in a larger game that this Kalaryl objected to.  Not expecting him to take some basic measures to destroy the pawns involved, measures that would far outstrip the abilities of the cowardly, the untrained, and the unprepared seemed needlessly reckless." A rueful smile plays across her lips.  "But... as I've been reminded a time or two I'm an unwanted foreign interloper.  Take my words how you will."

Griswold grinned wickedly at this statement.  "Sir Morten, you are more than you appear?  How is that possible?  You already take up half the tent!"  Chuckling, the half-elf drops down opposite the short woman, eyes sparkling.  He tries to focus his attention wholeheartedly on her, but seems to have some difficulty.  His gaze occasionally drifting to the silver mage, before being snapped back again.

"So, Whisper, is it?"  The sparkling haired elf asks leaning towards her. His voice quiet, mirroring her name.  "As unthinkable as it is, I don't believe I have had the pleasure.  I, my lady, am Griswold Ortmann.  Squire, dancer, champion.  At your service.  Always.  In all ways."

OOC
Persuasion: 6
Griswold fails at charming another woman?  Perhaps he's just not the Casanova that he imagines himself to be.

Sir Morten rolled his eyes at Griswold's antics but said nothing further. Whisper, for her part, played it well and giggled daintily. Her words sounded more in the tone of nobility looking down upon peasantry. "So brazen! Maybe you are right, Mort! After all, how many will get to say they tried to woo one of the Roses?," she laughed, suddenly ignoring Griswold and pulling her hand back. She made a shooing motion for him to back to his seat, though it was more provocative than her tone suggested.

The elf was in thought when it broke and he nodded at Arizima. "Pawns you may be, but do not take that as a slight. Pawns have the potential to become some of the most critical pieces on the board. It is not like Kalaryl to lay so simple a challenge. Something has moved her hand before she was ready. If she had the time, it would have taken a good portion of the Inquisitors to unravel the trap," he said, directing the last portion of his statement at the other two Roses.

Whisper sat quiet before speaking to the group as a whole, leaning forward as she did so. "Why did you continue with the quest? Not for gold, I know. That inelegant bribe attempt by Inara nearly tipped everyone off to the true nature of the test. Was it curiosity? Was it honor? Why risk everything for the sake of meeting people you've never heard but in stories?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:52, Wed 10 Jan 2018.

"Well for me it was..." Griswold made his way to a stool, then jumped up again his cheeks barely touching the surface, finger pointing to the sky.  ""for glory of course!".

As he slowly settled back down, he took a deep breath and added: "At first anyway.  Later, after their safety was called into question, to try and protect the other contestants.  Do you have word of the other groups?  The nearly dead twin, mutilated goblin and the youths?  We," he cast a glance at Wrenn, "intend to buy out the girl's contract and free her from her grandfather's debt."

Arizima nods toward the elf slowly. "I don't find it a slight.  Merely a strange and inefficient way to accomplish... Whatever your actual end goal is in this case."

Arizima shrugs at Whisper's question with a slight smile on her lips.  "I suppose you could say I'd heard it would be a fair enough way to pass the time, discover something new, and earn a bit of coin.  Journeys far from home are rarely inexpensive affairs after all.  Beyond that I was promised no reward and I can't say I particularly cared either.  Not to say you're dreadfully boring or anything of the sort of course!  I just assume that such a meeting holds less for me than most of the others here.  I did not grow up on stories of heroic roses and the bite of their thorns after all."

"I found myself involved in this entirely by chance, accident, fate, whatever you choose to call it. Well, that and a threat on my life for magics used on me that I was blamed for using myself." Wrenn fought the urge to glance at Griswold, but there may have been a tiny twitch of his eyes.

"Then, once I saw the enslavement of the girl that Griswold speaks of, I knew I would go through with whatever challenges were placed in front of us to see the girl set free."

"Naturally, as one who practices arcane magics, I wouldn't typically seek to involve myself with the Rose. Hopefully, we can get some of those particular laws of yours eased up a bit with the founding of the Adventuring Guild, and two of its founding members being practitioners thereof."

Sul stood by quietly, watching the newcomers with curiosity. When it came to him he stood a bit straighter before giving a slight bow of his head in respect to the knights. "Stories and legends tend to come alive when you meet the creatures from them." He said with a solemn expression as he looked between the three of them. "I continue on as that is the only path left to me. A creature of legend burned much of my past life. I sought help in avenging them."

"The silver light of Bahamut has guided me here. I thought it was to seek the Roses for help. But now..." He rubbed his chin with a gauntleted hand, his previous certainty when he first came to this place now gone. "Now it seems as though there is more. I am but a pawn, its true. As much as i sought your help, it looks like you are looking for help as well?"

"Hope," Kharash said as he took a step forward. "It is hope that guided me here." He looked at the three similarly eclectic Roses. "That one success can echo forth, aiding in all other pursuits. Whether they be as Watcher - keeping the darkness at bay - or of a more personal nature."

"To be honest, I had my doubts about this contest. To be so close to meeting a living legend, seemed unreal almost. Yet I hoped it were true - and here we are," he smiled. "Not one, but three Roses! And a fourth we've yet to meet. All behind a scheme to lure the festival's champions into starting a Guild in the name of the Emperor. This is quickly becoming much bigger than I had anticipated." Kharash's expression became more serious. "Why don't you enlighten us with the true purpose of all of this. What is this Guild you intend to start? What is the goal?"

Sir Morten nodded thoughtfully at each answer, saying nothing. Whisper mirrored his motion before getting up to pace. Her next words seemed to be directed at the mage. "What say you, Sinofel? They are us, as we were four decades ago, near this very spot," she questioned intently.

The mage, Sinofel, nodded his assent. "If Sextus found them worthy, we are hardly better judges," he said slowly. Returning his focus, told only by the motion of his head, for when you look at his eyes, you see they are blue and opalescent throughout with no pupils to speak of. Taking a breath he exhaled slowly and spoke just as fast. You pick up that he pronounces each word carefully and distinctly.

"I will answer your questions the best I can. Firstly, the other contestants will live. The priests of Zeus and Odin are the best at their work. The twin will be scarred, but those scars and the scars of the others have earned them entry into the guild. I will say that you will have a chance to speak with them after this meeting. In truth, you all, and they, have reached the crux of the matter. Why?," he says and stands. Morten does the same and the trio form a chevron before you.

Sinofel gestures to the Roses. "Before you are three from strange beginnings. I started as a simple wanderer, stranded from home and gifted with magics I did not understand. I was shown the ways of the mage by an old man who decided to live a peaceful life than one of adventure. I journeyed here, to this festival, to look for medicine when he grew ill," he said.

When he finished, Whisper spoke, removing her mask to reveal the pale green skin of a half-orc. She obviously favored her human side and small red freckles accented her emerald eyes. Strands of red hair dropped around her face as the mask was removed. Her countenance was determined as she spoke. "Believe it or not, you can be too pretty to be a half-orc. I was an outcast among outsiders. Too much of a runt to be useful to my clan. But we lived in a city, a place where a hood can make you just another body in a crowd. So I followed the crowd, and their purses, to the festival," she finished somberly.

Morten made a sad smile at that point. He placed a massive hand on Whisper's shoulder in support. He spoke next, emotion clipping his words. "As you can see, I am not a man. When hill giants are born, we come into this world screaming for food. When we grow, little has changed. My kin suffer through life in blissful ignorance of the world at large. We raid caravans for food and treasure to horde. Just outside this festival after a raid, I found this," he said pointing to the circlet. "I put it on because it was shiny, but it raised my intelligence to a level uncommon even in the more civilized races. Like a blind man made to see, I stumbled towards this festival."

After a moment, Sinofel spoke again. "We were brought together by circumstance, but we bonded in friendship. Morten was a confused giant near a large festival. Many knights sought to end his life. I could not see a being who meant no harm come to it himself, so I stepped in," he said as Whisper picked up the sentence. "And no one should be judged on looks alone, so I answered the call as well. As Morten lay dying, punctured by so many arrows and lances, we defended him when no one else would. It was then another came to his aid."

Morten spoke then, almost interrupting the pace. "A young priestess of Eris saw the chaos and intervened, the goddess of discord pleased with how much of it I had sown. Garasa saved me from death but not the Emperor's Justice. We were told to atone for our crimes or face execution. We chose to atone by clearing the Greenwood of a feral goblin and orc tribe that had taken residence in the shadow of a ruined tower. A young hunter named Gammon guided us and told us stories of the ghostly knight that wanders the wood. We did as you did, stumbling upon Sextus and the tomb of the sword of Delius. The goblins and orcs had died trying to take the tomb, but the word of the tomb pleased our accusers enough to allow us to continue to live," he finished.

Sinofel spoke. "We three stand before you, those who have recreated how the Order of the Roses came to be. You have met the fourth, or at least her magics. Garasa has taken the name Kalaryl and set herself against us for reasons we do not know. For the better part of a decade we have struggled to end her machinations. But why do I tell you this? Why create such an elaborate guise for this contest?", he asked rhetorically.

"We have done these things and met with you to tell you this; we need help. Three cannot save the Empire as we have done in the past. We have recreated the conditions that gave birth to our group, to our ideals. We were not able to convince Sextus that we were worthy, likely due to the darkness he could see in the heart of Kalaryl. Where we failed, you shall succeed. You shall go forth, should you wish to, into the world to bring hope to it again. Where it takes you, I cannot say," Sinofel finished.

Whisper picked up the dialogue then, an eagerness to her voice. "The Guild will depend on you to succeed. Before, the Empire has relied upon her knightly orders and bounty hunters to quell dangers, but this world is far older than them or the Empire. You will need to inspire others to join our fight, to rise above the rest and prove that mortals can still make an impact in our time. We need legends and we hope that you are it. Where we go from here is your choice."

Sinofel nodded, his tone as he spoke indicating the lecture was coming to an end. "You have already done much to deserve a bard's tale in resurrecting the Order of Delius. He was the first true adventurer and we hope the Guild will follow in his footsteps. You have had an encounter of evil with Kalaryl and touched the strange with your interest in Farrissa. You are right to fear for her. She is a sin-eater, as the Inquisitors like to call it. She absorbs magic. We think she is why Kalaryl acted so rashly. A potent weapon if she can be taught to harness it. That collar subdues the effects, but at the cost of her voice. Speaking is how a sin-eater expels the magic, you see. I digress, however. We shall remain here tonight before seeing to business elsewhere. There is much to do and I am sure that you have many questions for us."

Morten nodded and sat back down. "You will spend a month here, as we will encourage the festival to continue in celebration. After that, you are free to do as you wish. Us Roses shall be here to guide you as required, serving as council to our guild members during that month. We have many tales and legends that have no answers. Rumors of things happening around the world and Empire both. The choice will be yours, as we have said many times, if you wish to continue. Should you five wish to remain together, we will do our best to ensure you have the best start on your first adventure. If not, may fortune favor you wherever you go."

At last it seemed their tale was done and each Roses sat, looking tired though nothing really had happened beside speaking. It was as if they were free of a massive weight and could finally breath easy.

OOC: Converse, ask questions, or do what you will. I will answer them as they come, rather than wait for everyone to post. You will have a month of downtime to come into your 3rd level abilities, train, research rumors and legends for potential quests, or do whatever you feel is right. When everyone is settled on downtime actions and any quests you may want to persue, we will continue! Congrats again! 

Kharash listened to the three intently. Only a few scales shifted in his face at the telling of Whisper and Morten's sad beginnings. "Nowhere more lonely than in a crowd," he softly said to himself, as his eyes drifted downwards for a second or two.

After their tale, Kharash spoke up. "It would be an honor to help you. The possibilities such a Guild could offer.. to extend the Eyes' vision.. there is great potential here for the betterment of the realm. Yet, you do have me wonder. What is it that you hope the Guild can achieve that you're own forces - the Emperor's knightly orders - or the Eyes of Yggdrasil cannot? What threat looms over us that you are so afraid of, and what role does this Kalaryl play in it?"

"You also mentioned the other competing groups. They will be entered into this Guild as well?" Kharash hesitated a moment before continuing. Questioning the authority made him nervous, yet he felt it needed to be clear. "And what will your, and the Emperor's, role be in the Guild after this first month. What will.. what I'm asking is.. who will be in command - will it be us, or you, or the Emperor? Whose words will have the final say?"

Whisper answered Kharash nodding. "A fair set of questions. Firstly, the different orders are all bound to the Emperor. They serve his will. The Watchers are beholden to Heimdal and the Norns. The Guild is beholden to none. The Emperor will be able to make requests and set tasks, but it will be up to the guild members to decide which they take. It removes much of the politics that have plagued the knightly orders and is agnostic to gods, so none may overtly influence the outcome. You may be a Watcher, but they cannot dictate guild business."

"As for other members, that is what our future role will be. We cannot go out and quest while trying to set up this guild. It is the reason that we have taken the role of mentors. Those who braved the trial and at least attempted the various difficult challenges will continue to train here, under our guidance if they wish. The Roses are going to establish Maypole as the Adventuring Guild headquarters. We will run the interference on politics, hiring craftsmen and tutors for various subjects, and personally training newcomers that show proper potential as you all have. All in all, each member of the guild will be able to decide how best to contribute and no man shall tell them otherwise. The guild will be beholden to no one."

Arizima listens to each of the Roses with some interest nodding along at the appropriate points.  When they finish she frowns for a long moment.  "A month?  That is... a rather long time to be sitting doing little.  I have my own affairs I have to attend to and only so much time to do so."  Her eyes seem to dart toward Kharash for a split second before focusing back on the Roses.  "This is all quite generous, but I have my misgivings about staying in a place that was meant to be a brief stop of no more than a few days with what time I have."

[Private to GM: I don't really intend to try to break away or anything.  Just to start establishing stakes.]

Sinofel nodded. “We understand. We shall not force any to stay or join the guild that do not want to. We merely offer the opportunity and a starting place that few could equal, if we are allowed to brag. I am shaped of fortunes, a skilled divination mage. Whisper is a master of skills in both espionage and assassination. We prefer the former to the latter. Sir Morten is a master tactician and highly skilled warrior. We will offer what we can however long you decide to stay. We are also prepared to offer fifty gold each in credit for starting your training and preparations. We do not want you to become completely reliant on us, however. It is why we’re encouraging you to use the resources at the festival.”

"So while the Emperor may request tasks, it is up to the individual members whether they actually set out to fulfill it." Kharash repeated in his own words after Whisper's answers, and thought for a moment. He realized she had answered yet avoided some of his questions still. "And who else will be able to make requests?" He looked up at her again. "There still must be some kind of leadership within the Guild - will you three assume that role? Even though these requests and tasks can be freely accepted or denied, there must still be a filter on them. Or we may end up running errands for whomever offers the most, playing into the personal or political agenda of lords. We don't want to become some mercenary organisation, or a legal version of the Black Network," Kharash frowned.

"We need a clear goal - a focus." He looked at the three Roses. With faked naivety he asked: "What did you say Kalaryl's role played in all of this?"

"Once the Guild is established, I would like to help establish connections with the other groups in Krieghold. I understand the Guild wishes to remain beholden to none, yet being able to at least offer tasks to other organisations can drastically increase our reach - if the task aligns with that organisations beliefs and values of course. I can only speak for the Watchers, but I think the Guild and the Eyes of Yggdrasil could benefit greatly from each other." He held his amulet for a second. "Watchers are free to roam the lands, ever watchful, ever vigilant. Yet, and I speak from my own experience, this watch can be without any meaningful action for extended periods of time. And without purpose, aimlessly wandering can be... disheartening. I believe that during these periods, having the option to assist the Guild - by own choice of task - can keep the Watchers sharp, in mind and in steel."

He looked at Griswold and the three Roses. "Perhaps similar benefits could be reaped from connections with the other knightly orders. And," he turned to Sul "perhaps there is also place for a strong connection with the resurrected Order of Delius. Which, if I understand correctly, has no allegiance to anyone - very similar to the Guild in that regard." He smiled faintly at Sul, with a twinkle in his golden eyes.

Lastly, he turned to Arizima. "There may be great benefits having access to a Guild such as this: a network, resources, information. Though it does require time to set up." He softly whispered to her: "It's to do with that malady of yours isn't it?" His eyes glanced at the ground behind her. "Do you want to tell us what it is? Is there a way for us to help you?"

Griswold nudged Arizima with his elbow, "And it might even be fun!"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:56, Fri 12 Jan 2018.

Arizima winces almost as if in pain before her eyes dart between Kharash, Griswold, and the rest.  "Alright!  I understand.  I'll go along for the moment."  It's difficult to tell exactly who she's talking to.

Her eyes settle on Kharash, Sul, Griswold suddenly.  "If I am going to work alongside the rest of you with this guild there is a bit of possible unpleasantness that needs to be addressed."  She pauses for a moment before finally giving a shrug.  "I understand we're far from my home. That the help and people provided to this organization will by and large be Kriegan.  That is of course completely fine.  However what I don't want to see is this organization's autonomy eroded by it's connections to other martial orders throughout this land.  Quite frankly I don't want to be remembered for helping create yet another group of soldiers that will be used to kill my people.  We've had quite enough of that with the knightly orders."

Finally she gives a sigh.  "Assuming that's acceptable and we're going to be spending a lot of time with one another I... suppose it would be only fair to discuss my malady.    I might need to be bribed with a vintage of variable quality first however.  It's not a pleasant topic of conversation."

When Ari spoke about the Kreigans killing her kind, Wrenn stared hard "I told you so's" up at Griswold. He moved over and stood beside the woman, an unspoken gesture of support.

Morten sighed and addressed Kharash's question directly. "The style of leadership has not been decided upon. We were hoping that you could decide. Our preference would be to see each guild outpost have a guildhouse master in charge. Should something require the involvement of the full guild, they will for a council to discuss it. But that is only our suggestion," he says.

Sinofel purses his lips for a moment and continues. "As for Kalaryl, we have not the resources to hunt her across the world. The guild can act as a hub for would-be adventurers and thus act as eyes and ears for us to rout her evil. We will do everything in our power to ensure that no organization outside the guild gives marching orders to adventurers."

After some discussion, Griswold stands up, clapping and rubbing his hands together.  "Well, guild matters aside, it has been suggested that we...vacate Maypole for a while.  We've heard of plenty to be done outside the village and we seem to agree that the missing children are a good place to start.  Let's show the people that this guild is not going to be some failed experiment, doomed to be forgotten by the roadside, but that we can actually help!

"We can continue to scout for new recruits whilst we travel."

Eri nods in agreement, still unsure how she ended up with these strange folk. Helping people was enticing enough to make her stay, however. Especially when it came to children. She'd probably never have any herself, but her instinct to protect them was still very much intact.

Arizima gives a small nod of agreement.  "So long as I have a chance to investigate a set of ruins on my own time after I've no objections to a journey in that direction."

Wrenn nodded his agreement as well, "There's nothing else for us here for the time being. We may as well keep ourselves busy in the meantime."

The time between the group leaving the scene of the trial and embarking on their next adventure seemed to pass in a blur. While in reality it was the better part of a day, Wrenn, Griswold, Eri, and Arizima find themselves walking along the path out of Maypole seemingly a few minutes after deciding to leave. The air still bears the crisp breeze of spring and the sun plays hide and seek behind billowy white clouds. The road is well trod and easy to walk. Even Jacoby seems less dour than usual. Absent from the group is the stern face of Brother Sul, busy with order business, and Kharash, headed out on the lead about his kin in the port town Arizima left behind.

Verlaine lies well to the south and west of Maypole. Three weeks of walking lay ahead, cutting around Leffrun and crossing the Krieg before continuing into the fertile hill country of the south. Halfway into their journey, just after crossing the Krieg, the party encounters a still smoking homestead near the road. What should be a farmer and help tending a field is instead a burned house and overturned cart. No other souls seem to be around as the last curls of of smoke rise from the charred bones of the farmhouse.

Eri immediately rushes forward to investigate. It was unlikely anyone was left alive, if there even were victims, but one didn't stroll to such a scene as this. She grips her spear tightly, moving faster than most are capable of, face set like stone in grim expectation.

Griswold's face darkens for the first time on this journey for a moment upon seeing the sight, but Eri's heedless run forward - disregarding any potential danger for the need to help - immediately lightened it again.  "Now that's my kind of woman!" He laughed as he grabbed his buckler and took off after her.

Wrenn jogged after the others, not bothering to try to keep up with the long legged folk, but trying not to get left too far behind.

Portent rolls: 17, 9
09:26, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 17,9 using 1d20,1d20.  Portent.

Arizima approaches a bit more slowly keeping pace with Wrenn.  With the smouldering ruin long past the point of being fresh she seems to see little need to rush instead letting her eyes sweep across the scene looking for any sign that anyone might still be lingering nearby.

06:35, Today: Arizima rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

There is not much to discover at the farmhouse. Around the burned husk is strew a few household items; cooking pot, farm tools, and even a bit and bridle can be found. The remains of three beds are there as well as a table and four chairs. Too little is left of what remains to determine anything else. The fields looks ready for working and a horse drawn plow sits in the middle of one. [Secret to Arizima: In the dirt, you see the tracks of footprints that lead away from the house. You can make out about seven sets, two larger ones and the rest small.]

Charred detritus crunches beneath Griswold's feet as he slowly trudges through the devastation.  His buckler sways listlessly on an arm lifeless from melancholy. He comes to a stop in front of the others, pauses for a moment then sighs and shakes his head.  "This wasn't an accident, right?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Wed 11 Apr 2018.

ooc: Flaming heckish poo!!!!!!!!! I hate when I accidentally delete my post! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Eri is both relieved and suspicious not to find any bodies. She frowns at Gris's question, light brown slanted eyes searching the area as she answers. I suppose it's always possible it's an accident but my experience with the world has made me more...cynical. I didn't see any bodies though so perhaps they were taken alive, assuming this was nefarious work. Hm. I say we finish searching and then see if we can't find a neighbor or someone who saw something. She makes good on her own advice, looking around more thoroughly.

[Private to GM: 14:19, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 14 using 1d20 perception check]

Arizima nods toward the set of several tracks leaving the charred home.  "It seems unlikely that this was merely an accident.  Without any bodies it seems likely that two to four of those footprints belong to our missing farmers.  The rest most likely belong to their captors.  Whatever the case the truth of the matter likely likes that way."

It is about this time you notice the approach of a wagon on the road. Two figures can be seen riding the seat, but you cannot tell who or what they are. The wagon appears to be slowing down but not stopping. One of the figures raises an hand in greeting. "Hail, strangers!" It sounds like a man, upon closer inspection, it is an middle aged man with an equally aged woman beside him.

[Private to Eri Sato: You find nothing that has not already been discovered.]

Eri raises a hand in greeting, but is more eager for answers than pleasantries. Hail! What happened here, do you know? she gestures to the burned house.

Griswold offers his support to Eri by walking up beside her.  He puts on his warmest smile for the couple, then realising that perhaps they actually are a couple, wanders if he can ease their tension a little.

Reaching around Eri, he puts his hand affectionately on her far shoulder and pulls her close.  As he does, he leans in and whispers "pardon me."

"Salutations friends!"  He calls waving with his free hand.  "My apologies if we seem overly earnest.  This dire scene has put us all on edge.  We're travellers from Maypole, on our way to Verlaine.  I am Griswold Ortmann.  This beauty," He gives Eri a quick squeeze, "is Miss Sato, whilst behind us,"  Griswold turns to look back, completely breaking line of sight to the couple in a hopeful show of trust, "is the Lady Arizima and Master Wrenn."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:31, Mon 16 Apr 2018.

Wrenn nods his greeting, but keeps quiet as he watches and listens to the strangers.

Arizima gives the two a small wave but doesn't say anything instead continuing to eye the tracks curiously.

Eri is surprised at Griswold's sudden and unexpected attention but quickly realizes he must be putting on a show of some kind and allows it without protest. Yes, he was definitely more brazen then she was used to, even if it was something as simple as an arm around her shoulder. But then her experience with men was...limited. Hopefully she wasn't starting to blush, curse it all!

The man raised a curious eyebrow at Griswold but said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he seemed hesitant to speak but did. “We saw the smoke this morning and assumed Wesley’s family had an accident. Have you seen him or his family?”, the man asked cautiously. He seems not to trust the boisterous stranger or his well armed companions.

Arizima shakes her head before taking a few small steps in the farmer's direction with her hands open and palms facing outward.  "I'm afraid not.  We arrived only shortly before you did long after the flames had died down."  She stops for a second glancing behind her at the ground before looking back toward the man.  "We may have some small lead... Would you know of anyone or anything in the area that would pose a threat to a farm such as this?  It seems likely we'll try to pursue the likely culprits so anything you know would be greatly appreciated."

Here's a persuasion roll if you need one.

22:07, Today: Arizima rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Persuasion.

"We've not found any bodies."  Griswold added in a suddenly deep and powerful voice.  Pulling himself up straight, he removed his arm from around Eri and stepped forward.  With his chest out and shoulders back - generally just trying to appear as heroic and commanding as possible - he continued.  "If Wesley and his kin are still alive, they may be in great danger.  Good people, even if do not know who or what did this, perhaps you have an idea where this family would have fled, to escape danger?   Please share any information with us and you have my word - my word as an Argonaut - that we will do what we can to see them safely home."

OOC - Hopefully, giving Arizima advantage on her persuasion roll.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:19, Wed 18 Apr 2018.

The man looked at Arizima for a moment before running his chin and shrugging. “Not much here in the farmland. Might be a pack of wolves that comes from one of the small forests but they can’t set fires. If your right, Wesley might have taken his family to his cousin’s for safety. They live only a two hour walk away.” The man nodded and began to turn his wagon around. The woman spoke up then. “I hope you find them.”

These people don't seem too terribly concerned that the farm of someone they know was burned. Smells fishy.

18:16, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Insight.

PM

[Private to Wrenn Muernig: You get the distinct impression that they were not expecting people to be present. ]

Wrenn tugged on Griswald's tunic and looked up at him as the people turned away, and whispered up toward him, "I think they were hoping to loot the place."

Griswold gave an exasperated huff and looked away from the opportunistic couple.  "Let's find this family alive and well then, so the vultures don't get as much as a charred outhouse ember!  Anyone know how to track?  We need to know which direction they went.  Assuming a dragon didn't eat them!"  His joke was a little too shaky to have been made in complete jest and his eyes wandered a little skyward.

Arizima points toward the tracks again before with a small shrug of her shoulders seemingly much less concerned.  "I'm not an expert but these seem obvious enough.  We at least have a general idea and a direction to start it would seem."

As the group gathers near the start of where the track can be seen, nothing more is heard from the wagon or its occupants. The tracks are easily able to be followed once pointed out, that is until you reach the edge of the freshly tilled earth near the home. The tracks become harder and harder to follow in the progressively firmer earth until stony ground prevents any more tracking. By this time, you have walked maybe an hour and find yourselves on a small hill, the outline of the farmstead behind visible faintly in the distance. It looks like another farm is on the otherside of a hill, with nothing but small clumps of trees and a small creek to mark the otherwise boring landscape.

@Kharash: Despite your eagerness for visiting Tormus and getting a chance to talk to some more dragonborn, the news reaches you that the Heirs of the Order, on their first trip out as Adventurers, seek to aid Verlaine. Duty overcoming curiosity, you are able to cut across the flat lands west of the main road to try and catch up. Your hustle and endurance prove useful, as unbeknownst to you, the group is only a half-day ahead of you. Coming down the road, you can see a wagon with two riders on the bench. They make no move to greet you and steer the wagon clear.

Arizima for her part doesn't seem to hesitate making her way toward the distant farm apparently unconcerned about the potential dangers.  "Well?  Shall we see if there are any more clues at our next homestead?"  Her tone is filled with the same unconcerned cheer that seems to have accompanied her for the whole situation.  It's only complimented by a slight quirk of her lips as she starts to work her way down the hill.

Kharash was used to the weariness of people that had never seen someone with his physique before. In an attempt to appear less threatening and more trustworthy, he made sure his amulet was clearly visible. "Hail, strangers!" He raised one hand at them. "Help a Watcher out with some directions, will you?"

Eri follows suit, face grim as usual. Most of the time her expressions are distant, often lost in thought and generally not happy ones. Now, for once, you know the reason for it. If gossip travels half as fast here as it did in my home city, they'll have at least heard an inkling of what happened.

Griswold stands triumphantly at the crest of the hill and surveys the land around him.  He takes a deep breath and smiles with satisfaction, looking a lot like a man that has just climbed to the top of a mountain.  Then, noting Eri's grim attitude, suddenly takes off down the hill at high speed.  As he passes the monk he 'tags' her on the shoulder and laughingly calls out to everyone: "last one to the bottom is a rotten egg!"

Eri blinks in surprise at the "tag" and then says aloud to no on in particular, He is an...energetic one she shakes her head, still unsure how to react, though a trace of amusement touches her face. Well, I guess we're running then. I have a feeling we'll not hear the end of it if we don't. With that she grips her spear against her chest and shoulder at an angle and runs off after him. She's very fast, so she has a good chance of beating him.

ooc: Ah, I love being a monk :P

Knowing very well that his gnomish legs had no chance of winning any type of footrace whatsoever, Wrenn went into a light jog to somewhat keep up.

As part of the group races down the hill, the farmstead starts to come into view. The closer you get, however, the less it begins to look like permanent buildings. Around a hundred yards from the very bottom of the hill, half a dozen figures suddenly stand. Dark shapes, short in stature, jump up and begin running to the farmhouse, which you can see is severely dilapidated. A low wall sits in front of it, facing the hill and continuing around the other side. More figures begin to appear and one stands tall atop an overturned pair of wagons. A screech rises up from it and a dull bell sounds. They have raised an alarm.

OOC: You are near the base of the hill and maybe two hundred yards from the wall.

@Kharash: The couple look distinctly nervous but upon seeing your symbol, they calm slightly. Stammering, the woman begins to speak. "Wwwwe didn't do nothing...", she begins before the man cuts her off and points down the road. He speaks quickly and doesn't stop the wagon, "Duric's about two more days on foot. Biggest town for a week. Good day to you, Watcher," he says as they begin to ride away.

"Small figures, small footprints.  I believe we've located your likely brigands." Arizima keeps pace with a light jog not particularly interested in claiming the lead.  "Shall we approach with some small measure of caution or rush straight toward them?  The longer we delay the longer they do have to prepare after all."

The sudden appearance of all the small scampering figures has Griswold looking about in confusion.  Arizima's assessment, however, soon has him raising his buckler and slowing to take a more measured and defensive approach.  Not so much for his own protection but to put himself between these little hooligans and his companions.

He manages a strange expression of frowning with his brow whilst still smiling with his mouth as he says: "Lil' bastards."

"That's a lot of open ground.  We'll be exposed.  Anything anyone can do about that? If not, I say we approach cautiously.  May be we could break for the trees?"

Unnoticeable to the untrained eye, several scales shifted around Kharash's eyes. He pondered for a moment what to do with this couple. Part of him wished they had just given him the directions he needed and be on their way. He sighed, then, with a burst of speed and several big steps, made his way over to the cart. He grabbed the reins of the horse to force it to halt.

"What do you mean? What is it you didn't do?"

"I know of spells that could help, but I don't know how to cast them myself. I didn't see much use for such spells as a tinkerer. Remind me to remedy that when next I have a chance to research something new. I can make a whole into a pocket dimension where we could hide for about an hour, but we couldn't move from inside it. That's the best I can do, I'm afraid."

Roll Initiative! Please post two rounds of actions, as it will take that long to close the distance if you move forward.

@Kharash: The driver glares at you but says nothing for a long moment. He sighed and shook his head. “There’s a burned out farmstead about a couple hours walk down the road. You’ll find nothing there but some do-gooding half-silver Argonaut and his strange companions. They are likely looking for the family now. I think the goblins already got the family, though.”

Wrenn hustles behind her long-limbed companions.

1. Move & Dash
2. Move & Dodge

Initiative: 9
This message was last edited by the player at 02:50, Mon 30 Apr 2018.

Griswold was slow to take any action - still unsure about the guilt of these creatures.

A mighty 6 on initiative!

1. Move & Dash
2. Move and Dodge
This message was last edited by the player at 13:23, Thu 26 Apr 2018.

Kharash couldn't help but grin. Knowing his companions, he could only imagine what kind of impression they left on these people.

Yet his expression quickly turned serious again. "Why were you hesitant to tell me that? The Eyes of Yggdrasil serve to protect. Much like the do-gooding argonaut you encountered. I know you may be skeptical, but is it people like him that will make this world a better place. Don't turn down honest help when it is offered." He looked into the eyes of the two for a moment, before switching to the matter at hand. "These goblins been harassing the people more often lately? I thought these lands were mostly free of goblin raids, with most of their kind having found some place as workers amongst the other peoples."

Arizima hurries along readying herself for the likely skirmish to come.

06:22, Today: Arizima rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

1. Move & Dash
2. Move & Dodge

Eri moves forward, trying to get just close enough that her short bow will be within range.

05:49, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 6 using 1d20+3.  Initiative.

Move and Dash
Move and Dodge

As the group races towards the farmstead, the distinct sound of crossbows can be heard. The twangs echo across the open field and the bolts begin to fall among your group. Half a dozen goblin can be seen on the low wall, firing crossbows, while another dozen eagerly wait with shortbows and a few rusty swords or spears. You can easily see now that the farmstead is also burnt out for the most part and what you thought were building on the hill are actually a pair of overturned wagons. They are decorated with shields and crude banners, giving it the distinct look of a child's sized fort. There is a larger goblin on top barking orders.

OOC: Everyone will need to make a DC12 Reflex save to avoid taking a bolt as they rain down. Failure is 4 points of damage.

---

@Kharash: The man looks slightly ashamed at first, but then his face hardens. "Look here, I don't need a lecture. Last time we asked for help with the goblins, the orders said it wasn't worth their time. Since they took over the old Meklan place, the goblins hunt the wolves and boars in the area that ruin the farmland. They have been demanding foodstuff, but the little buggers have been getting bolder lately in demands. If you want to deal with them," he said pointing off the road into a field, "...they live in a couple of upturned wagons. Fort Goblin, the locals call it. If you run, you can get there in fifteen minutes." The man finished, gave an angry snort and moved off with his wagon.

OOC: You can reach the battle a little after it has started, but you must take a point of exhaustion. Otherwise, you will arrive afterwards.

Kharash let go of the horse's reins and stepped out of the way. "I'll see what I can do. First I have to find the rest of my company. Whereto did you direct the argonaut?" he asked as the cart started to move.

Wrenn honed in on the goblin leader, hoping that doing so would present better opportunities for dealing them them overall if he could strike down the leader.

Move: if needed to get within range, use the rest to back up
Action: cast Magic Missile at the boss goblin
Result: 14 Force damage

22:02, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 5,5,4 using d4+1,d4+1,d4+1.  cast Magic Missile.

As Wrenn's own magic streaked toward the Goblin's leader Arizima's joined it with a hastily muttered incantation.  The same crackling void like energy streaks from her fingers toward her target.

Move:  Arizima will try to stay more than 85 feet from most of the crossbow wielding goblins.
Action:  Eldritch Blast aimed at the Goblin Boss.

21:49, Today: Arizima rolled 5 using 1d10+3.  Damage (Force).
21:49, Today: Arizima rolled 20 using 1d20+5.  Attack (Eldritch Blast).

Eri takes a bolt, to her chagrin. She should be faster than this! Her old master would be disappointed. Ignoring the pain, she looses an arrow at the nearest goblin, fortunately faring much better, but then pain always did help her focus.

[Private to GM: 05:35, Today: Secret Roll:
Eri Sato rolled 12 using 1d6+6.  05:34, damage
Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 22 using 1d20+5.  short bow.
05:32, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Dexterity save. Hopefully I did that right. I can't remember where the +6 for my short bow damage came from, but it's in my sheet so I'll scour it later to see if there's anything wacky with it. Sorry I'm in a rush today! Thanks! :)]

Eri wasn't alone as Griswold shared in the monk's pain, cursing loudly and in a very unknightly way, as he too got hit.  He stumbled.  Neither graceful nor pretty, it looked for a couple of moments as though the knight would fall, but pure momentum more than balance kept him aloft.

As his footing once again became surer, he found the time reach out with his hand.

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

Many miles away, in a small town called Maypole, there existed a room full of weapons.  Perhaps an armour, perhaps contraband or some private collection.  Within, scattered upon a table with a myriad of others, an inconspicuous blade blinked out of existence.

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

With his rapier in hand, Griswold carved some strange shapes in the air and recited arcane words.  His tutors had taught him well.  The blade effortlessly ignited into green flame.  Arizima and Wrenn could tell at once that the lapping blades were mostly harmless, but they made for a good show.  And the half-elf was all about the show.

He forward flipped over the wall in a grand display of athleticism, but in doing so caused the simultaneous strike against his goblin opponent to go wild.

OOC:
15:07, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 21 using 1d20+5.  Acrobatics - Over the Top.
15:43, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 6 using 1d20+5.  Melee Attack vs Goblin. - Natural One :(

This message was last edited by the player at 14:47, Mon 30 Apr 2018.

The battle was met quickly. In the span of a few seconds, the goblin that seemed to be directing battle was blown off the top of the wagon by the combine arcane magics of Arizima and Wrenn. Another goblin went down with an arrow to the chest, gasping for breath as its lung collapsed. The goblin facing Griswold seemed momentarily stunned as the knight flipped over the low wall with impressive agility. That wonder faded just as quickly as a loose stone that tumbled from the wall during Griswold's vault found its way under his foot as he lunged to stab the goblin. Going down now would not be wise.

Meanwhile, the goblins on the wall started to consolidate but quickly are thrown into confusion as their orders are abruptly cut off. Two move towards Griswold and his opponent while the rest reload crossbows. Another looks around franticaly before rushing towards a gong looking item near the upturned wagons.

OOC: Gris will need a DC8 Dex save(with advantage because of you dodge and acrobatics) to stay upright. The big goblin is down but the rest are still around, just not attacking in the confusion.

@Kharash: The man gives you a sour look. "We left them at the farm. Told them about another a couple hours walk away. If they go over that hill, it'll take them longer and they will come across the goblin camp." The wagon moves off without further delay.

Griswold wobbles atop the loose stone, his arms waving uncertainly in the air.  For one whole incredibly tense moment the battlefield is on edge.  Will the noble knight actually fall and tumble into a life of ridicule and shame?  No.  No he wont.  Not this time anyway as he recovers and promptly strikes out against the goblin on the wall once more.

As the blow lands with less force than the knight might have liked, flames sputter away, threatening to burn anyone else nearby.



OOC
Dex Save: 15
03:06, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 15 using 2d20+3, dropping the lowest dice only.  Dex Save - Sir Griswold vs...a loose stone!
Oh yeah - Take that Loose Stone!

Standard Action: Green-Flame Blade
To hit: 24
03:13, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Melee attack vs the same goblin - lets try that again.
Damage: 5 piercing
Secondary Damage (if applicable) 2 damage to another single enemy within 5 feet of the targeted goblin.

With the leader taken out of commission, it was now time to sow chaos on a wider scale. Wrenn repeated the same spell, but this time he aimed a dart at three different goblins.

---

Move: as needed for range
Action: cast Magic Missile on 3 different goblins, pref ones our melee folks aren't near
Result: 2 Force, 5 Force, 5 Force

21:54, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 2,5,5 using d4+1,d4+1,d4+1.  cast Magic Missile.

Special: Portent 17, if one of our people misses an attack this round.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:08, Wed 02 May 2018.

Arizima mutters another incantation and let's another blast fly shrieking across the field toward the goblin rushing for the gong.


13:03, Today: Arizima rolled 8 using 1d8+3.  Damage (Force).
13:02, Today: Arizima rolled 13 using 1d20+5.  Attack (Eldritch Blast).

Action: Attack the goblin before it alerts any others.

Movement: Try to stay in a sweet spot that's outside of crossbow range but in Eldrith blast's

Eri looses another arrow, aiming at the next target nearest her, but unfortunately not doing so well this time. Perhaps it was the bolt she'd taken but her aim was most definitely off compared to her first attempt.

Get it together you idiot! she snaps inwardly.

[Private to GM: 13:16, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 5 using 1d20.  I forgot to add my +5 to the actual roll, so the total is 10, sorry I'm in a bit of a rush. Also, I looked at the character sheet again and can't for the life of me figure out why the damage is 1d6+6. I think it should be +3 right? So for now that's what I'll do until I figure out what the heck happened.
Also, in case a 10 miraculously hits, (I doubt it) the damage is:

13:19, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 7 using 1d6+3.  damage just in case.]

Kharash nodded at the couple as they drove off, and made his way towards Fort Goblin. He kept scanning his surroundings as he made his way over there. Not knowing whether his companions had taken the same route, he thought it'd be better to approach the camp carefully.

While following the path, he grinned for a second as he thought about the name the locals had given it.

---

ooc: Without knowing for certain where the others exactly are, Kharash will slowly head for the camp

Chaos erupts from the already met battle. Goblins are hit with a barrage of magic from Wrenn, killing none but sending them staggering. Despite Arizima's best attempt, her blast skims the goblin going for the gong and he gets there with enough time to smash it with the butt of his crossbow. The goblin raises his hands triumphantly just as an arrow from Eri ricochets off the stone wall and embeds in his neck.

Hearing the gong, the remaining goblins keep their courage but with the battle going against them, it hinders their aim. A flurry of bolts whistle through the air, but only one finds its target. Eri receives a grazing shot from a bolt as two of the poorly maintained crossbows snap under the strain of shooting multiple times. Griswold fairs well, for though he is outnumbered, the goblins seem unnerved by the knight that was suddenly upon them and thrusting a rapier through the shoulder of one and the blade sending a lick of green flame to the one next to it.

Kharash begins to head in the direction of the camp, cautiously and alert.

OOC: Next round! Most of the goblins are wounded but there are still three on Griswold and multiple with crossbows(two less with those fumbles).


17:30, Today: GM rolled 3 using 1d8.  Crossbow dmg vs Eri.
17:29, Today: GM rolled 9 using 2d20+3, dropping the lowest dice only.  Goblins vs Griswold w/Adv.
17:28, Today: GM rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  Goblin Archer vs Wrenn.
17:28, Today: GM rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  Goblin Archer vs Eri #2.
17:27, Today: GM rolled 22 using 1d20+3.  Goblin Archer vs Eri #1.

Wrenn repeats the spell, sending glowing bolts flying toward the goblins.

---

Intention is to repeat the attack against the same targets to try bringing them down. If I can't see them, then I'll aim for another group of them.

Action: cast Magic Missile
Result: 2 Force, 4 Force, 4 Force

17:56, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 2,4,4 using d4+1,d4+1,d4+1.  cast Magic Missile.

Eri glowers as the second bolt hits but ignores it, moving a little closer if possible to get a better vantage. She'll try for another goblin with her bow, preferably one closer to Griswold if she can get them, though soon the time for distance will end. She was too much of a target out here.

[Private to GM: 16:17, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 8 using 1d6+3.  possible damage.
16:17, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  arrow attack.
What rolls do you need for me to move in closer to help Griswold? Thanks!]

"Whoa! Heh. Ha!  Haha."  Griswold's exclamations of both surprise and relief came quickly one after another as he barely avoided the goblins' assault.  His luck was holding, for now.  He knew it wouldn't last forever...and that was half the fun!

As soon as an opening presented itself, he took a step away appearing to all intents and purposes to be preparing himself for a tactical retreat.  That was until he turned and waved at Wrenn.  A big shit-eating grin on his face.  "Fun, eh?" Then, igniting his blade once more, threw himself back into the goblinoid fray.

"Have at thee, you dung-eating, inverted wagon dwelling, bumlings!"

However, he had apparently telegraphed his swing a little too much - the target easily avoiding it.  Even if said target wasn't his original opponent, but rather the new arrival recently singed by fire.  The back-swing though, well, that was unexpected.

OOC
Action: Green Flame Blade vs 2nd Goblin: 11 to hit (I assume to be a miss)
Action Surge: Green Flame Blade vs 2nd Goblin again: 16 to hit
Damage: 10
Secondary Damage: 2 fire damage to the first goblin

Contingency: The first time Griswold is hit by an attack using an attack roll, he will use his reaction to cast shield, gaining +5 AC against that attack and any subsequent one made before his next turn.

02:17, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Melee Attack vs 2nd goblin.
02:21, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 16 using 1d20+5.  Action Surge - Attack vs 2nd goblin.
02:31, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 10 using 1d8+3.  Rapier Damage - perforated goblin.

This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:41, Sun 06 May 2018.

With the fight beginning to turn Arizima begins to move forward letting another blast of energy crackle toward one of the Goblins menacing Griswold with a look of concentration on her face.

Action: Eldritch Boat a Goblin
Move:  Begin to close to a 6o frm range from the goblins.

19:54, Today: Arizima rolled 11 using 1d10+3.  Damage (Force).
19:53, Today: Arizima rolled 13 using 1d20+5.  Attack (Eldritch Blast, Luck).
19:53, Today: Arizima rolled 6 using 1d20+5.  Attack (Eldritch Blast).
 

One by one, each of the remaining goblins go down. Whether by flame or force, none are left standing in the few short moments the battle has been met. It is just as the last moan of a goblin fades that you hear it. Really it is more of a feeling. Like a deep drumbeat, your feet tremble from vibrations. The noise follows shortly after. Suddenly, a bellowing roar echoes across the farmstead. Coming from the far side of the small house is a monstrosity nearly ten feet tall. Pox ridden, it looks like a hobgoblin expanded to the size of a giant that has met a plague town. Nasty furs cover the torso and a massive club studded with pitons and spikes swings easily in its hand. Its other hand carries a spear, though it looks more like a javelin in the massive grip.

Turning the corner and coming to look straight at Griswold, it issues another challenging roar and hurls the spear at the knight! The spear flies straight, but Griswold is able to deflect it enough with a quick twist. The spear makes an unsettling sound as it lodges into stone wall behind him.

OOC: Sorry for the wait folks!

18:50, Today: GM rolled 16 using 1d20+6.  Javelin vs Griswold.

Wrenn reacted quickly to the larger threat, sending bolts of glowing energy flying at the creature.

Action: cast Magic Missile at level 2
Result: 14 Force damage

22:08, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 3,3,4,4 using d4+1,d4+1,d4+1,d4+1.  cast Magic Missile lv 2.

Griswold looked tentatively back at the spear lodged into the wall. Grimacing at the shattered stonework, he returned his gaze to the monstrosity and gulped.

"Well, that's...worrying."

With one trepidatious step after another, he moved toward the diseased mutant.  Each pace came quicker than the last, slowly building up momentum until he peaked at a sprint.  "Let's do this!" He shouted, adding evasive manoeuvring to his charge.

OOC:
Move: Engage the creature in melee, if possible.  Otherwise get as close to it as possible, without dashing.
Action: <Dodge>
Bonus Action: <None>
Reaction:  Cast <Shield> if hit

Welcome back, GM :)

Worried about accidentally hitting Griswold with an arrow, Eri drops her bow and flicks her spear up from the ground with a toe, grabbing it and running to the fray as quickly as possible. Her intent of course, is to help the poor man, but of course she's more than a little wary herself. Her brothers though, would never have let her live down cowardice when they lived. She ignores her racing heart, eyes hard.

[Private to GM: Alright, from some cursory research it looks like there is no quick draw in 5e? If that's the case she's just going to try to switch weapons and book it to Gris. I don't know how close she is or if she needs to hop the wall like he did or if she is in fact close enough to attack so I'm going to give you a couple of rolls just in case you need them, though I'm sure that's too much in one round. I figured it would save time though if I was missing anything. Thanks!


p.s. Sorry if I screw anything up. I'm in a bit of a hurry today!

05:43, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Dexterity
roll/acrobatics.

Possible spear attack:


05:45, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  possible spear attack.

05:45, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 5 using 1d6+3.  damage.]

Arizima watches the monstrosity emerge with a roar with a raised eyebrow the only sign that something was different. "That is... Unexpected."  She hurries toward Griswold and the rest with a wave of her hands and a whisper. "G͜a̡c͜t̡h͡i̷a͟ ̧s͏ìá'nt͠ t͜af҉r"

Move:  Toward Griswold and the monster
Action:  Cast Dissonant Whispers (DC 13 Wis Save)

07:16, Today: Arizima rolled 12 using 3d6.  Damage (Psychic).

The monster shakes its head as the words of Arizima try to tear into its mind. Griswold is shortly joined by Eri, her spear piercing the side of the beast. Blackish blood begins to ooze  from the wound, as if it had started to coagulate in the body. Searing magic bolts enrage the beast further as Wrenn's attack strikes true. A sickly stench radiates from the impact as pus pockets erupt from the force. Bleeding the beast glares at the ready Griswold and speaks with a voice like thunder pulled through a swamp. "No more hurt, Grunt!"

The wicked great club slams into Griswold's shield with a cracked of strained magic. You are under no illusion that if your magic was not ready on your lips, you would have been little more than paste. Not waiting for a second, Griswold is able to barely dodge out of the way of the backswing. The stone wall behind him erupts into a cloud of fragments and dust as the club impacts it.



OOC: Good thing you dodged, Gris! That could have been very bad.
15:24, Today: GM rolled 16 using 1d20+6.  Second Attack vs Griswold(Disadvantage).
15:23, Today: GM rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  First Attack vs Griswold(disadvantage).
15:21, Today: GM rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  Second Attack vs Griswold.
15:21, Today: GM rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  First Attack vs Griswold.
15:20, Today: GM rolled 14 using 1d20-2.  Wisdom save vs Arizima.

Seeing just how dangerous,(not to mention disgusting) this thing really is, Eri goes pale and swears savagely.

It takes every nerve she has left to stay and fight, but since she's determined to do so, adrenaline courses through her and she desperately takes the opportunity to stab at him again, being sure not to thrust it in so deep she can't get it back out again. Such was the dangerous allure of the spear. "Never use all your strength," June used to say. "Just aim better."

13:08, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 7 using 1d6+3.  damage.  13:07, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Attack.

Arizima continues to approach with a frown and a twist of her fingers.  Her eyes seem to give way to a hint of something beyond herself for just moment and her frown is replaced with an almost manic grin that appears to be wholly out of place with her earlier demeanor.   "I don't believe you heard me. G͜a̡c͜t̡h͡i̷a͟ ̧s͏ìá'nt͠ t͜af҉r!"

Move:  Closer to Grunt.  Still a way behind our melee types though.
Action:  One more Dissonant Whispers.  (DC13 Wis Save 4d6 damage.  Half on a save.  I forgot to upgrade the damage last time)

21:50, Today: Arizima rolled 17 using 4d6.  Damage (Psychic).

Even with his magic barrier up, Griswold still felt the force behind the monstrous creature's swing.

"Uff," he exclaimed, stumbling slightly from the impact before raising his rapier defensively.  "If you, hng, want us to stop hurting you, stop fighting already and put your weapon down!  We're the good guys here, let us help you..."

OOC:
Action: Persuasion: 18*
Bonus Action: <None>
Reaction: Cast <Shield> if hit.

*13:52, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  Persuasion - anti-hostile negotiations.

Wow - a half-decent persuasion roll!
This message was last edited by the player at 12:38, Fri 25 May 2018.

The hulking thing let out another roar as blood began to seep from its ears. Placing its hands on its ears and shaking to clear them, Grunt began to back away from the fight slowly. Eri made her move and the spear punctured another hole in the thick hide. Grunt made another howl of pain that quickly turned into more of a whimper as Griswold spoke. "No! You hurt Grunt! No believe you! No small thing good. Small things only hurt Grunt," it said and looked to defend itself.

OOC: Skill test 1/5 Successes and 0/3 Failures. Persuasion has been used, so you will need other skills to recruit Grunt.

Continuing to try an defend himself against this creature's (apparently called Grunt), bone-breaking swings, Griswold remained otherwise passive.

"Shh...Grunt.  Its okay," he said trying to placate the giant, much as he might Jacoby. "No one's going to hurt you if you don't try to hurt us. Quite the opposite - we have food.  You can have some.  Are you hungry?  Would you like that?"

OOC
19:29, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Animal Handling - for better or worse.

Wrenn follows Griswold's lead and looks around for signs of...anything, that he can use to convince the large fellow that he should change his allegiance.

12:04, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 20 using 1d20+6.  Investigations.

The behemoth looked unsure as Griswold spoke. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Grunt dragged on his lip longingly. He sounded hesitant as he responded, “Grunt no eat. Grunt not earn it. Grunt only eat when small things done.”

As Grunt nervously figets, Wrenn begins to notice the signs that Grunt might not have been a volunteer in the raiding party. A thick iron collar is hiding under the filth and rags and his wrists bear the telltale signs of bondage.

Piss! Eri thinks to herself irritably. Why can nothing ever be simple?! Her instinct had always been to rush in spear first. Action was her creed, but then she remembered her master's favorite scolding whenever she became impatient. "Before you can learn to still your mind you must use it first!" A fitting reprimand now considering she'd been so eager to kill the beast before them without hesitation. It still might come to it, if he couldn't be convinced, but now she'd feel bad about it.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:40, Thu 07 June 2018.

Griswold takes hope from the fact that he had still to become a red stain on the floor and gingerly steps back.  He points back to the hill they had just run down.  "See that horse up there Grunt?  That's Jacoby.  He's a bit grumpy, but a good friend.   He carries all of my food and might come if we whistle.  Can you whistle Grunt?  If not, try humming or clapping along with me."

Griswold then proceeds to whistle parts of a gentle melody interspersed with attempts at encouraging Grunt to follow along.  Adding more and more until the whole tune comes together.  Hoping both to direct the mountain of muscle's attention away from a murderous rampage and that Jacoby will actually deign to listen for once...

00:24, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Performance - Whistler.

The big brute looks unsure at first, but as soon as Griswold starts to whistle, he claps his hands and smiles as a small child might. He tries mightily to make the noise with his lips but it proves difficult. Frustrated, Grunt begins to show signs of his agitation until he sees Jacoby wandering closer and takes a keen interest.

OOC: 4/5 Successes. Last one needs to come from Arizima or Eri.

With an inward sigh, she felt stupid for what she was about to do, she takes out a coin from her coin pouch and addresses Grunt. Do you like tricks Grunt? Want to see? she proceeds to flick the coin around her knuckles, making it disappear and reappear in her other hand, and all manner of sleight of hand that someone with Grunt's mentality might find impressive. Jun had taught her all of that of course, but she'd never imagined she'd be using it like this. Hopefully it was enough to calm the creature.

08:21, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 21 using 1d20+5.  attempt at sleight of hand.

Grunt resumes smiling as Eri demonstrates some simple, yet entertaining, feats of mundane illusion. The big creature wears a wide grin and claps his hands again, rocking back and forth in his excitement. His posture seems to have relaxed and he no longer has an interest in fighting. Grunt then squats down and sits heavily on the ground, causing a slight tremor as what you guess to be close to 500 pounds of muscle mass hits it. The cause of the fight forgotten for now, Grunt looks at Griswold. “Why you nice to Grunt? Why no fight?”

Griswold's grin mirrors Grunts as he joins in with the brute, clapping for Eri's performance.  As it comes to an end, he nods at her, then turns to Jacoby.  "Good horse!" He praises and pats the animal on its head, much to its annoyance.  He proceeds to search though the saddle bags and withdraws a couple of pouches, then removes his loot from the side and approaches Grunt.

Sitting down in front of the now placated creature, he places the places the packs down.  "They're rations, Grunt.  Food.  As promised.  A bit dry and tasteless, but its all I have at the moment.  We'll get you something better later."

Taking his lute in hand, the half-silver then starts plucking out a simple melody, whilst chuckles at Grunt's question.

"Well, having that spear thrown at me was certainly a shock!"  He looks warily at the weapon still firmly lodged in the wall.  "And I suppose most people would fight after having something like that happen to them.  But I don't know - something just felt...off." He shrugs. "I guess you just didn't seem all that malicious - uh, that means nasty if you didn't know - to me."

"Anyway, how do you think people meet, Grunt?"  He pauses his playing for a moment to sweep his arm wide and indicate to is companions.  "All these wonderful people weren't always my companions.  At one point I might even have thought some my enemies." He gives Wrenn a sideways wink. "But look at us now.  Stalwart friends, I tell you!

"So, basically, everyone deserves a chance, Grunt."

There's a little pause whilst Griswold focuses on his playing, before he speaks again.

"My name's Griswold.  I'm a knight.  Pleased to meet you.   The clever lady with the coin is called Eri.  The Gnome with the painful lights is Wrenn and the mysterious lady at the back is Arizima."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Tue 12 June 2018.

The big looked cautiously down at the dried meat and fruits that made up the rations. An entire days worth looked to barely fit in his meaty palm. He slowly chewed on a hunk of beef and as he does, you start to notice the extent of his deformities and injuries. Grunt, whatever his motivations and disposition, has obviously lived a hard life.

Whether it is easiest to notice the smells that radiate off of him or his multitude of lesions and sores is hard to say. Despite the blood oozing from his wounds, you can also see yellow-green fluids leaking from infected sores. Dried crust cakes his body and even that is not enough to cover some of the scars from wounds and pox he previously had. The chains he wore are still present on his neck and wrists, though it looks to be only the bands.

Grunt has a mop of dirty, matted hair and you can’t be sure of it’s true color. His jaw sits in a jutting underbite, giving him the look of a cow chewing cud as he eats. One of his ears is severely cauliflower. The pox are much less on his face and he has a soft smile as he eats. Eagle eyed observers note that he is covered in ticks and fleas. The dirty hides, some not even properly tanned, don’t help him at all and do little more than cover his bulk.

Overall, Grunt looks to be one of the most filthy, disgusting creatures you have ever encountered. His diseased nature and simple mind do not make it hard to see how the goblins might have been able to keep control of him, despite him being close to three meters tall and three hundred kilos. He smiles at Griswold, before looking warily at the others, and speaks in a hushed tone. “You Grunt friend? Grunt no have friend before.”

Eri was both repulsed and saddened by his physical state. Something would have to be done about that. What's more she felt pity for the creature who had been so clearly abused. She nods at his question, even if it was to Griswold. Consider me your friend as well Grunt. She then turns to Griswold. We need to find a healer or something for him. He can't go walking around like that anymore she shakes her head.

"Freedom is the greatest joy of life, Friend Grunt. Welcome to freedom!"

"There's also the question of what to do with him. Griswold, you know this area better than the rest of us. Will he be safe roaming about on his own? Will we be safe if he comes with us? I'm always happy to keep friends close, but we'll need to get him cleaned up and clothed, and we'll have to find someone willing to do both of those things."

"Of course he comes with us!" Griswold laughed at Wrenn's question whilst nodding at both his friends' observations regarding the person's poor condition.

"And he does need treatment.  Is there anything you can do, Wrenn?  At least until we can find a professional.  I might make a layman's attempt, but imagine you would have a better idea than me.   Perhaps together we could do something?  There must be a water source around that we could use to clean him up some.  If only Kharash were here...well we'll try to find someone soon.  But in the meantime, I have a question." Griswold turned his attention back to the bugbear, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Grunt, we'll try to find you help as soon as we can, but we actually came here hoping to find - and maybe assist - the owners of a recently burnt out farm.  Just over the hill there.  Do you have any idea what happened to them?"

OOC
@Wrenn Griswold is not trained in medicine, but will give you advantage on a test if you want to make one.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:22, Fri 22 June 2018.

Arizima chooses to let the others do the talking deciding that any words of hers are likely to fall on deaf ears after her earlier magic.  Instead she takes up a silent vigil, her eyes searching the surrounding farmland for any hint of danger or the missing family.  Whatever she thinks of Grunt's state or the others ideas she keeps to herself for the moment only a slight frown as she scans the horizon betraying any of her thoughts.

Grunt, upon the mention of water, suddenly stood. His face looks very scared and anxious. “No water! Water burns Grunt!”, he says and looks nervously around.

Wrenn first went about looking at the fellow's wounds to see if there was anything he could do to help him out.

Medicine Check with Adv from Gris: Nat 20
17:07, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 20 using 2d20, dropping the lowest dice only.  Medicine.

Afterward, he replied to Grunt's comments concerning water, "Water burns? Friend Grunt, please, allow me to show you that normal water does not burn. I will show you on myself. Do not worry, I will not touch you with it until you tell me I can."

Wrenn pulled out his water skin and removed the cap, upending it so as to pour some out into his hand, "See here, Grunt? Water, and it does not burn me. Here, touch it only with your finger and see that it will not burn you."

I've got a +0 persuasion too, if someone wants to aid, or would rather take the lead on it with assistance from me.

Feeling a bit awkward, Eri also puts some water on her hand. See? I'm fine too she informs him calmly. It was like talking to a child. She'd never been comfortable with children.

14:25, Today: Secret Roll: Eri Sato rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  persuasion attempt.

Griswold held his chin in thought.  "Hmm.  Maybe the water hurts because his skin is sore?  Is there anyway to clean him without soaking?"

As Wrenn and the rest of the group attempt to do what you can for the beleaguered Grunt, Wrenn makes a pair of startling discoveries. The first is that he knows the disease afflicting Grunt. Known as goblin rot or orc pox, it is a debilitating disease that slowly causes the skin to slough off the victim. Goblinoids seem to be immune to it and it can be cured with large amounts of herbs and bed rest. In the field, soldiers have been known to pour boiling water on the wounds to stymie it spreading.

The second discovery turns out to be that Grunt has been receiving the boiling water treatment and crude shaman magic to keep him sick but alive. Without clerical aid, Grunt has only a few weeks before he succumbs to the disease.

"Well, Grunt, it seems you've caught yourself a case of Goblin Rot. And unless I'm mistaken, there was someone in the group of goblins that you were with who knew how to use magic. And whoever that was, they are the ones who gave you Goblin Rot in the first place, and they kept you sick even with the treatment that they were giving you."

"The burning water did help you with the rot, but if we can get you to a cleric soon then you won't have to deal with the burning water any more." He shares the other information with the group, such as the time before the disease takes him, when Grunt is not around to hear.

Eri listens with dismay. Funny how minutes before she was prepared to run him through and now she felt sorry for him. Well I'd say we'd better get to it soon then. Any idea where the closest cleric is? she turns to her companions. I don't know the area well.

Grunt looked hesitant at Wrenn as he spoke. ”The big one always pour the burning water on Grunt. He said it was my punishment for not killing more small people. When Grunt squash small people, the furred one always made Grunt feel better,” the big guy comments but sits down and allows Wrenn to work.

You are able to guide Grunt to a nearby stream; to the remnants of a mill on the farm. Filth washes off of him like an oil slick that creates a film on the water. By the time you’re done, the multitude of lesions are all that remains. Grunt looks like a kid as he splashes around in the shallow water, leaving your group to discuss the next course of action.

"I've traveled through the area a great deal, but rarely did we have need or reason to seek out a healer. Griswold?"

Eri watches Grunt with the barest hint of amusement, her face rarely morphs into a full smile and today was no exception. I don't know this area at all so I fear I am no better she adds to Wrenn's words, also waiting for Gris to lend his opinion.

Griswold gives Grunt a thumbs up.  "Looking better already!"  He then rubs his chin in contemplation.  "Well, I was meant to study maps as part of my training, of course."  He turned his head up to the others with a big grin.  "But 'sitting still' was never a skill I did well at!"

Still the knight takes a few moments to himself to see if he can recall anything useful.

History: 5 (Hehe, woops)
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Wed 11 July 2018.

"Well, there are sure to be clerics in any large city. The problem will be trying to get him inside the city. We may be able to talk our way inside, though. If not, some of us can camp out in the open fields while someone else goes inside and hires a cleric to come out and meet us."

Sounds like a good plan she nods. How far is it to the city? If there's any convincing to be done I can try to help if needed but my money is on Gris here. she gestures to the man. I'm not nearly so silver tongued.

Griswold's eyes twinkle as he turns to Eri, smiles and bows.  "Do not underestimate yourself, Miss Sato.  I'm sure you could convince me to do almost anything!  But perhaps you're right in this instance.  My being a knight might carry weight.

"I don't know how far it is, but we shouldn't dally any longer."

To the city we go, ogre in tow...

Eri allows herself a small smile at Gris's words and shakes her head with amusement. Silver tongue indeed she thinks inwardly.

Meanwhile she is happy to head back as quickly as possible. She was eager to get Grunt taken care of not only because the poor thing needed help, but his wounds were not pleasant to look at either.

As the group travelled, Griswold tried to keep Grunt motivated and distracted from his condition with jaunty melodies.

As the group collects itself and begins to move towards their goal, an uneasy feeling settles in. Grunt is hardly inconspicuous and despite being mostly docile, you find that his nature is prone to tantrums that have the potential to cause massive problems in more civilized areas. The road before you stays mostly empty as you continue towards the small town of Verlaine to address their problems. On the thrid day of your travels, you can see the lights of the palisade towers on the horizon but you know that it will be dark before you arrive. What do you do?

"Good news, Grunt!" Griswold jubilantly proclaims.  "Those lights over there contain the salvation to your condition!  Uh, A healer.  But we must be cautious.  People will be scared of you and that means they may become agitated.  That's what happens when people get scared.  They get stupid.  So its best to not scare them, understand?

"Anyway, its getting late now.  So let's find a nice little spot to set up camp?  We can get closer to town in the morning, then have someone go in and recruit a healer."" Griswold looks at everyone expectantly.

"Agreed. It's best if we don't go into the city, far too much opportunity for misunderstandings in there. Griswold can go find us a healer while the rest of us wait out here with the big fellow."

Agreed. Eri nods vigorously. Grunt was already becoming more complicated than she had expected. He was a lot of trouble, and though she still wanted to do right by him, she hoped the others didn't expect to make him a permanent member of the party. The last thing she needed was to be a babysitter for the massive creature.

Grunt sits quietly as the group debates and discusses. Eventually, a plan is hatched and a campsite found. The task is easy enough and by morning you are ready to enter the town. Grunt begins to complain about his sores and hunger early but the town seems to be bustling for early in the morning. Even this far away the smells of a baker can be found.

Griswold offers Grunt three of his rations, and eats one himself.

Once breakfast was over, he stands up and claps his hands together.  "Wish me luck!" He shouts.  Turning and waving as he heads into town, he calls back, "If anyone wants to and thinks it safe to do so, feel free to ask anyone you see about the shady goings on around here!"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:07, Mon 13 Aug 2018.

Eri nods at the suggestion, trying her best to get a lay of town gossip and also keep an eye on Grunt. If he shows the slightest inclination to be a bother she will suggest they take him back out of the town. The last thing they need is for things to escalate...

[Private to GM: If you need a roll for gather information you can either do it for me or I'll try to get it tomorrow. Unfortunately I'm out of time for the day and can't look up my character sheet right now. Sorry!]

"Well get some food soon enough, Friend Grunt. Patience is important here, we must get you healed of this sickness before we go into town or else they'll likely try to harm you so as to prevent spreading the illness."

As the group goes about your business in town, trying to find help and assistance for Grunt and yourself, you come across a venerable town guard at the road entrance. His armor fits poorly and someone three sizes smaller. Though his face and hands are worn and calloused, it is not from holding a weapon. He holds a hand out and shakily asks, “Halt! Who approaches?”

Griswold approached the guard with a swagger born of self-assurance.  "Hail good sir!  I am Sir Griswold, of the League of the Golden Thread and also of the newly founded adventurer's guild.  Here to offer aid an assistance to those in need.  My companions and I have found one such unfortunate on our way here.  They are too sick to enter town and as such we seek the aid of a healer.  Would you happen to know of any and their likely whereabouts?"

The knight wondered at the state of this guard's attire.  Was it his of old that not been replaced, or a worrying sign of this town's ailing fortunes?
This message was last edited by the player at 14:38, Tue 04 Sept 2018.