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Aericsteele’s D&D 5e RPG Main Thread

The Maker says...

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1st Adventure: Pages 1-39
2nd Adventure: Pgs. 39-92
3rd Adventure: Pages 92-

DAY 1

It is a brisk autumn evening in Clear Creek, the sky is clear and a half full moon fills the sky overhead amidst an array of stars. There is a gentle breeze flowing in from the south. The night is still save for the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the gentle babbling of water streaming through the creek bed located on the western edge of the village. A soft haze hangs over the village as smoke from dozens of chimneys rise into the starry night sky and then falls gently back to the cool earth.

The structures and buildings in the village are made primarily of wood taken from the nearby forest, and stone that has been imported, but there appears to have been little planning in terms of the growth of the village and the buildings are generally scattered about haphazardly around a small village square that is dominated by a series of small stands and market stalls.

Most of the denizens of this small village make their living through the lumber trade, gathering wood that is processed at a nearby lumber mill and shipped east where it is eventually shipped south on the great Blue Wall River to the City of Voscandi and eventually dispersed throughout the Empire; but there are a fair number of hunters and trappers as well who scour the Scolandi for furs and animal pelts. Though they rarely venture more than a few miles in for fear of what lies in the depths of the Wilds as some trappers and loggers that venture too far do not return.

Two weeks ago villagers started to disappear, the first to be recognized as missing was a local trapper named Coridan when he failed to make his usual stop at the general store before heading out to check his traps; a routine that he never failed to maintain. The local guard attempted to check in with Coridan at his hut but found no one and no one has heard from him since.

Two days later a logger failed to show up for his shift. Three others have gone missing since then, most recently, last night the six year old daughter of one of the local loggers disappeared from her bedroom. The local Reeve is a middle aged man named Tywin Gant and it is he who has enlisted the aid of the characters, summoning you to meet with him at the local tavern, The Drunken Logger.

In your opening posts describe your character, the manner in which he arrives at the tavern, and provide one interesting detail about the tavern (I.e. Something about the décor, the menu, a patron your character might see).

Edited: Aericsteele on 11th Feb, 2017 - 4:41am

Thread Main RPG e Dragons and Dungeons Aericsteeles

The tavern's door opens and a tall and wiry half-elf enters the room. He strokes back his fair hair and a scar can be seen on his light skin, right above his left eye. He is wearing a, ragged looking, brown leather armour and on his back sits a crossbow. On his belt there is a Wolf's claw and two daggers. His blue eyes examine the tavern's main room and after a short moment he heads to the table where Reeve Tywin Gant is sitting.
On his way he stops at a table where a young brunette maid is serving a couple of lumberjacks some beer. A short smile crosses his face as he addresses her, his voice slightly higher than that of a human man : "Alena, good to see you. Would you serve me a beer, too? I have to discuss something with the Reeve about the disappeared villagers." He then continues his way to the next table and sits down on the opposite site of the Reeve nodding at him. "Greetings, I heard you could need some help in finding out what is going here. I'm here to offer you my service." He then pauses and waits for a reply.

Out of character : I just assumed the Reeve is here, I hope I was right.

Aericsteele’s D&D 5e RPG Main Thread Archive Pathfinder / D&D

The Maker says...

“Sure thing Aves” Alena replies with a friendly smile as she places frothy mugs of ale in front of the massive lumberjacks. The burly men toss some coins on the table, lift up the mugs and take a deep swig before slamming them back down with a loud bang and a hearty thank you to the barmaid who in turns gives them a wink, scoops up the coins and scampers off toward the bar.

Alena returns a short time later with a large tankard filled with ale that she places in front of Aves, and another one that she deftly swoops down in front of Reeve Gant. The Reeve hands her some coins “I have others coming Alena. I’ll be paying for Aves here as well as the others that drink at my table tonight.”

“No problem Ty” Alena smiles “important business you have to attend to. I’ll keep your mugs full.”

Reeve Gant gives a weak smile and a curt nod then turns his attention to Aves. Reeve Gant is a greying middle aged man with salt and pepper hair that is quickly turning more grey than the raven black that it once was in his youth. His face is weather worn and wrinkled beyond his age but he holds himself with an air of efficacy and rugged experience.

Those in Clear Creek and the surrounding area know Tywin to be a strict and often harsh arbiter of the law, but they also know him to be fair with a passion for justice and the good of the people under his careful watch. Tywin has earned a reputation as a solid warrior who holds the high born nobles and rich merchants to the same standards as the peasants and common folk.

Tywin takes a drink of his ale and eyes Aves for a moment “I appreciate you answering my summons. There should be others coming. I will wait until they arrive to go into more detail, but obviously you know this has to do with the recent disappearances. I’d hoped you would be able to assist me in this matter. For a moment when you first walked in I thought…”

Tywin pauses for a moment considering whether he should continue “I thought you were your father. The bow, the armor, even the way you walked into the room.” He lets out a slight grunt and takes another drink.

Thread Main RPG e Dragons and Dungeons Aericsteeles

Aves gives another short smile to Alena when she puts down the mug in front of him. He nods to Tywin before taking a long sip.

The hal-elf listens closely and when the Reeve talks about others he summoned he nods in appreciation. At the words about his father however he tightens the grip around his mug and takes another long drink before answering :" You know… " He lowers the mug, considering what to say next : "I would do anything to find my father, and maybe this is somehow connected… " He pauses and takes another sip from his drink "... And if not, then at least I could have helped someone else."
Aves puts down the mug and gazes into the fireplace for a short time before shaking his head as if to clear out some strange thoughts. "But you're right, we should wait for the others you summoned. No need to talk everything over again and again."

Thread Main RPG Dragons and Dungeons Aericsteeles

The Scout of the Deep Wilds says...

The crisp autumn air sends more than just a small shiver up Carrick's back, making him grip his wolf-fur coat tighter around his stout frame as he ambles his way through the shacks and huts toward The Drunken Logger. The tavern most nights was host to dozens of patrons relaxing with a pint or enjoying the sweet melodies of the occasional minstrel. This was not such a night. Nor had any of the previous few nights been. Fear and uncertainty had fallen upon many of the townspeople due to recent events and once night came, most of them dared not leave their homes.
Carrick rounded one final corner and was met with the warm glow of the fire and candles burning from inside the tavern. He walked up to the aged wooden doors and went in.
The warmth of the fireplace allowed his muscles to relax a bit and the smell of roasting venison reminded him that he hadn't eaten since before mid-day.
"Food 'll 'ave to wait", he mumbled to himself as he scanned the room looking over the different people who dotted the large hall of the tavern finally landing on two figures sitting at a table near the fireplace.
Carrick made his way over to the aging human and half-elf,
"Ah, evenin' Mr. Gant. Evenin', Aves. Er, 'sume there be ales comin?"
He takes a seat at the table, doing his best not slouch and appear shorter than he already is compared to the others.

Aericsteele’s D&D 5e RPG Main Thread

Zinnathyra Urthadar walks up slowly to the Drunken Logger's worn wooden doors. The cool evening breeze gusts for a moment causing her to shiver for a moment. She pulls her black cloak around her tightly, wondering if the wind is what caused her shiver. She is tall, standing 5 ft 9 inches. She is a slim 125 lbs under the cloak and new dark leather armor. The hilt of a rapier is visible a moment before the cloak covers it. Her green eyes leap out of her face lightly dusted by freckles. Auburn tresses fall down to the middle of her back. She breathes deeply and then the corners of her mouth curl up in an almost smile as she wonders why the Reeve summoned her.
Pulling open the heavy wooden doors, she walks in. She stops by the door as she studies the room and its contents. Stretching her arms languidly, she lets her cloak fall back. Zinnathyra twists a lock of her auburn hair without thinking while she takes the scene in. The tavern is very sparsely populated. She frowns for a moment, thinking of the impact the horror in Clear Creek might have on her profession. Her eyes lock on Reeve Gant at the table with a dwarf and a half elf. She eyes them thoughtfully but in the poor lightning and with the angle of her vision she can't be sure who they are.
Zinnathyra begins walking slowly towards the table. Her progress is stopped by an arm thrust in front of her. It is Renner, one of the more troublesome patrons she has encountered while performing her act here. He speaks with a slight slur " girl, where are you going? Are you puttin on a show tonight?" She arches her eyebrows at him and replies " no, I'm off tonight. Excuse me. I have business to attend to. "
Renner looks her up and down with a leer. " I have work for you. " Zinnathyra eyes him with her eyes flashing In anger while deciding how she will resolve this issue.
Zinnathyra.

Aericsteele’s D&D 5e RPG Main Thread

It's been a while since Roland's last visit of Clear Creek, he spent the last months in the wilderness hunting down any sort of troublemaker, from solitary and scattered bands of goblin to occasional bandits who see Clear Creek as an easy prey.
Now with the approaching of the cold season, Roland is forced to come back to town, also summoned by the Reeve who contacted him a few days ago warning Roland about the sudden disappears of innocent people.
Adjusting the shield on his back with all of his belongings attached, and still full covered in his burnished armor, he stepped in the Drunken Logger bumping into Renner, who was annoying a little girl.
Roland puts slowly a hand on the sword: "Renner if I were you I'd step aside, now."

Out of character: should I check on intimidation? I leave the roll to you while you describe the outcome.

Aericsteele’s D&D 5e RPG Main Thread D&D / Pathfinder Archive

Corren walks quickly down the main street of Clear Creek. He has made this walk many times, even more often in the years since he had joined the town's small guard unit. One of its roughly twenty folk, the guard mostly handled minor issues. When there was real trouble threatening, the Reeve usually sent for real troops from Voscandi. And now that more than a few people had gone missing, Corren had assumed the Reeve would do so once more. But this time he had not. Instead the word was several of the town's citizens, and one or two who lived outside town, were being summoned. That surprised the young man. What surprised him even more was his name was among those being sought. He is easily the weakest, physically, of the guards, so he is guessing it had to do more with his ability to spread oil upon troubled waters. In point of fact, that causes him to pause at the door to the Logger. The last time he had been in there was just the night before. A few of the patrons had downed a few too many and began arguing over the missing people. As usual, Sergeant Beroe, the Guard Commander for the shift, had sent Corren to talk everyone down. Usually he was able to do that. But last night one of the men was not impressed with calming words. He had glared at Corren, then snarled, then swung a mighty fist. So a ruckus had ensued, but fortunately most of the fighting was done by others who had jumped the man that had struck Corren. Once it was over he bought his defenders a round.

He has his cloak on, but the hood is down, despite the slight chill in the air. So his swollen, blackened eye is clear for all to see. He takes a moment to compose himself, then opens the door. The distinct aroma of venison wafts in the air, but also something unusual. He sniffs, one eye brow raising and he steps towards the bar. He catches the tavern keeper's eye. "Quell, unless my nose is wrong, I smell acorn squash soup. It's awfully early in the season. Did some come in from up north? I'd love some, along with the venison." He pauses and inhales through his nose once more. "I can tell you still have the wine-and-herb marinade I made for you, right?"

Before Quell is able to reply, Alena appears and taps his shoulder. "Corren, I know you took a nasty shot last night, but you might be needed again." With her head she gestures towards the center of the room, where he sees Renner and Roland staring each other down, with Zinna the bard apparently involved somehow. The young rogue immediately steps in that direction, calling out, "Renner! There you are! I still owe you a pint for defending my honor last night!" He puts his best self-effacing grin on. He is hoping to avoid a replay of the previous evening's results.

Out of Character: : I do not wish to step on Alessand's interaction, so I don't see a need to roll dice. The Dungeon Master is free to correct me.