Prologue.   Posted by Dungeon Master.Group: 0
Dungeon Master
 GM, 1 post
Fri 1 Mar 2019
at 21:01
The Frozen North: the name given to the stark and unforgiving frontier that lies beyond the High Moor of Faerun. A bleak wilderness, where barbarian clans and tribes of giants roam the land, and fierce dragons rule the skies. But a midst the frozen savagery stands a bastion of civilization: the city of Neverwinter, Jewel of the North. Behind the city's high walls, those who are both hardy and brave carve out an existence from this bleak land under the guidance and protection of the legendary hero, Lord Nasher Alagondar. Yet, there are some things that all the courage in the world cannot stand against...

A virulent plague swept the city; a terrible affliction that began in the Beggar's Nest. Soon, all of Neverwinter would feel the touch of the “Wailing Death.” The disease could not be cured. Panic ensued, the streets erupted into violence: the Jewel of the North was brought to it's knees.

To save Neverwinter, Lady Aribeth de Tylmarande, paladin of Tyr and Lord Nasher's right hand put forth the call for a champion. A rush of would be heroes answered her call, some drawn by promises of grandeur and glory, others by the lure of gold. Those with the greatest potential were initiated into the Neverwinter Academy to study under the greatest minds of Neverwinter, all in the hopes that a champion would emerge to save the city from the Wailing Death, and whatever sinister force might be behind it...

Scene: A large throne room, full of cold, grey stone. A line of stained-glass windows flanks each side, describing the history of the city: Neverwinter, Jewel of the North. At the throne, three figures(A young Elven man in bright garb; an Elvish woman in full plate armor; and a crowned Man seated on the throne) are engaged in heated discussion...

"Lord Nasher, the plague has only just begun in the Beggar's Nest in the last ten days, and already two hundred people are reported dead, and many more ill. Our healers are unable to affect the plague; even the priests of Ilmater have no effect on this! Something must be done!"

"I agree with Fenthick, my Lord. We need to act. Let me call upon the Blackstaff; if anyone can help, Khelben can!"

"Of course you would agree with your lover, Lady Aribeth. And, of course, you are both correct. I have already sent word to Khelben, and he has undertaken a research project on our behalf. For now, however, we must contain this plague. Seal off the Beggar's Nest."

"My Lord! There are still healthy people, who have done nothing wrong, living in the nest! We can't condemn them to die like this!"

"If you will permit me, my Lord, let me take a group of guards and escort all of those who are unaffected by this plague back into the city!"

"The guard are stretched thin enough as it is, and I will not sacrifice my Greycloaks on this mission. This may be a Luskan plot to undermine us."

"Then let me go in alone! I volunteer for this."

With a wry smile: "Lady Aribeth, your bravery is admirable, but your services are needed elsewhere. I need you and Fenthick to open the Neverwinter Adventurer's Academy, and call for all willing to come to our aid to be trained. We shall need all the help we can get if we are to get to the bottom of this plot."

"But, my Lord---!

Lord Nasher Alagondar stands and raises his right hand, palm out. "Enough, Lady Aribeth! These are my orders to you. In the meantime, help may come from Helm's Hold. If the Helmites come, I shall send them into the Nest to do what work they can, but for now, we shall seal the Beggar's Nest. Let us hope that this plague, this 'Wailing Death,' as the people are calling it, will pass; barring that, let us pray for swift aid from Waterdeep and Helm's Hold."

Both Fenthick and Aribeth bow, and see themselves out.

When they are gone, Lord Nasher sits, and breathes out heavily: "Tyr help us all..."

This message was last edited by the GM at 23:20, Sun 03 Mar 2019.