[DnD5E-IC]Adventures in the Borderlands, Chapter 0

[NontheistCleric]

During dinner, Serien notices that he is not the only one to refrain from eating the deer, though Gorm does at least have some vegetable rations. "What are Keeper ways, exactly?" he asks the porter. "Why do they mean you can't eat flesh?"

As the meal comes to a close, Serien retrieves his rod from the remains of the deer. Grease and chunks of flesh slough off it until it is pristine once more, then he tucks it back under his cloak. Unlike some of the others, he doesn't bother with a tent or bedroll, simply stretching out on the ground and seeming to fall asleep.

On their watch, he talks to Gorm again.

"Better to be awake and see danger than die in your sleep," he says in response to the man's surliness. "As for the wizardry, you might yet learn it. But magic can have a high price—and sometimes others end up paying it for you."

After the watch, Serien stays up with Tirnelion, thinking that it will not look too suspicious if both of them do it. When Clint goes to investigate the disturbance, he follows along.

"Heart said she heard something like speech earlier," he recalls after they fail to find anything. "If that was not in error, then it seems likely someone is following us."

[Silent_p]

After the roast deer, Arabella settles down for some rest, sleeping soundly until roused for her turn at watch. She listens politely to Duskin as the man talks fondly of his hounds but only asks one or two questions, content to let him speak.

Whatever it is that catches Clint’s attention, she doesn’t notice but, with no sign of anyone or anything, there’s little to be done but remain vigilant.

Over breakfast, she considers the reports of noises in the night. ”If we are being tracked or observed, they are quite skilled,” she observes. ”Still, our destination is clear and we have made no secret of our approach.” She glances at her companions. ”Who has skill at tracking? We should consider an ambush may await us.”

Her piece said, she finishes her breakfast and prepares for the day’s travel.

[(Un)Inspired]

On Watch With Heart And Barrad

“To be honest, I don’t know many stories and tall tales.” Howl responds to Heart’s inquiry. “My family’s from Indos but I grew up in a small village about as far away from anywhere as somewhere can possibly be. I’ve got a few memories of being a child with my mother in Indos, elocution lessons, etiquette training, having servants sneak me food; just typical childhood stuff, you know?

Something must have happened though cause when I was 5 or 6 I was spirited away to the village of Chervil and raised therein. It’s a nice enough place to grow up but I always kind of hoped my family were great nobles or brave heroes and maybe I could have my own life of excitement and nobility. To be honest though I only left Chervil several months ago and not only is this the closest I’ve got to any adventure but beyond my last name being Foucault, I haven’t even learned anything about my family.”

Howl pauses for a moments and ripples his fingers as the fire, causing it to flow and weave upon itself as if guided by some infernal loom. Realizing his rudeness, he pauses his magical trifling.

“Pardon me, you were so polite to listen to my story and I ended up getting lost in my own thoughts. If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from originally and what drew you to this job?”

The Next Morning

Howl wakes up a few minutes before he actually has to get up and pulls his sleeping blanket over his head, savoring the cozy darkness for as long as he can before he was to get up. As the bustling sounds of the camp stirring to consciousness grow louder, Howl creaks up eye open and peaks out from underneath his blanket at the morning. When he can no longer resist beginning the day, Howl throws off his blanket with a lazy yawn. “Good Morning!” he greets everyone. After rolling up sleeping gear he strips off his ruddy colored leather armor, his juniper colored tunic, and his tawny boots, leaving on only his cream colored hose and heads down to the stream for a quick bath.

As soon as the young fire genasi’s body plunges into the river, great plumes of steam billow up into the air. He gasps audibly at the coldness of the water against his own feverishly hot skin, but manages to stay in long enough to get clean. Afterward he meticulously uses Prestidigitation to clean each article of his clothes before donning them once again.

[JNAProductions]

Watch
"I was born to the north. On the cliffs, as you might be able to guess," Heart replies. "My life wasn't supposed to be much. Er, not that my family was bad! No, nothing like that-it's just that, we're a quiet little people up in a quiet little corner of the world. There's not much going on where I came from, and my parents, my siblings, and my friends never expected me to do much more than just live peacefully. But... I mean, you said it, a life of excitement! Action, adventure! Maybe a bit of romance too. Nothing like that at home."

"So, I set out with some merchants we knew-the Arns. Good people, really nice! And I got to start exploring the world. Seeing new places, new people, new things. Then... I don't want to crap on your home or anything, but Indos is kinda a terrible place. It's not the people-the people are fine. It's the power-the people in charge. The oligarchy that rules over everyone... I just couldn't stand how they abused their power! So, when I heard that there was a noble who needed help... I thought to myself, 'well, maybe you can get her to help make Indos a better place.'"

She shrugs. "I know, it's a little silly, working so hard to help people I barely know. But I've a bleeding heart, and I might get rich along the way too."

Spoiler: Insight DC 28

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(1d20+8)[28]

Heart is being honest. But she's not being ENTIRELY honest. She's leaving something out.

Morning
When the steam starts pouring up, Heart laughs. "What a way to start the day!"

[(Un)Inspired]

On Watch With Heart And Barrad Part Deux

Howl smiles in agreement with Heart when she describes her desire for an exciting life. It was a sentiment he’d felt deep in his soul as far back as he could remember. When she voices her predilection for helping people she barely knows, Howl nods his head and breaks into a guiless grin of agreement. “There’s nothing silly about having empathy and trying to make the world a little better. If we get rich helping the Duke when she’s in need, that’s all the better.

As far as insulting my home goes, I barely remember Indos. I wouldn’t even be able to recognize a painting of the city. I’d like to go back someday, maybe find out why I was sent away... but, when I think of home, I think of Chervil.”

The Next Morning II

Howl grins sheepishly through the plumes of water vapor at Heart’s comment. “Oh, uh, yeah. This happens some times on crisp mornings. Better to start the day clean though, right?

[BestUserName]

On watch
Clinton enjoys his conversations with Duskin. Clint tells Duskin of being raised a shepherd. The discuss dog training and ranching vs. shepherding.

When Clint hears the noise he goesvto investigate. Clint can't find any sign of what created the noise. He responds to Serien in draconic,

"Hmm, that is worrisome....
It does seem that someone is investigating us. I don't see it around now. I'll have Camphor circle overhead to help keep an eye out as we travel."

As Tirnelion appears, Clint gives him a brief nod hello and responds, "I heard some rustling and movement. Nothing is here though. As I was saying to Serien, I will have Camphor circle overhead and scout as we travel."

As the three of them stand there, Clint smiles to himself. These are the adventures he had talked with Cypress about and longed about. A graveling sorcerer learning the meaning of life, a lithe elf warrior from a foreign Kingdom, and Clint a hulking human shepherd turned Wizard.


In the Morning

Clint is already up as everyone rises as he was on the last shift.

"Good Morning Everyone, I've made some coffee."

Clint then informs everyone of what he heard near the end of his watch and informs them of his intention to have Campher help scout.

[Silent_p]

With Clint announcing his intention to have his familiar act as scout, Arabella approaches him as they make ready to begin the final leg of the journey to the keep in the distance.

”Be sure to announce anything promptly. I will be the tip of the spear in breaking an ambush and will look to you to point me in the right direction.” Her tone is serious with an undercurrent of something like anticipation.

[BestUserName]

Clint nods as Arabella's speaks. He responds,

"Smart. I will make sure to keep you informed of anything Camphor relays to me.. Also, I am by no means a tracker, but I have spent my fair share of time in the woods and travelling with my Master Cypress. Ill try my best to help find tracks or signs of our observers."

He gives her a reassuring smile.

Spoiler: Survival Check

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(1d20+3)[23]

[truemane]

During dinner, Serien notices that he is not the only one to refrain from eating the deer, though Gorm does at least have some vegetable rations. "What are Keeper ways, exactly?" he asks the porter. "Why do they mean you can't eat flesh?"

...

"Better to be awake and see danger than die in your sleep," he says in response to the man's surliness. "As for the wizardry, you might yet learn it. But magic can have a high price—and sometimes others end up paying it for you."

Gorm smiles at the first question, "Where I'm from people earn the favour of the Gods by dedicating themselves to one or the other, or sometimes an idea or a group or sometimes even a thing, and then voluntarily sacrificing something to seal the pact. Those in my family have the Community as their Ideal. And most of us give up the eating of meat, and the drinking of alcohol, as our Promise."

The second he scowls. "Everything has a price. But some things also have a reward. More'n this anyway."

As soon as the young fire genasi’s body plunges into the river, great plumes of steam billow up into the air. He gasps audibly at the coldness of the water against his own feverishly hot skin, but manages to stay in long enough to get clean. Afterward he meticulously uses Prestidigitation to clean each article of his clothes before donning them once again.

OOC: that's a wonderful little detail. Take Inspiration.

Clint nods as Arabella's speaks. He responds,

"Smart. I will make sure to keep you informed of anything Campher relays to me.. Also, I am by no means a tracker, but I have spent my fair share of time in the woods and travel with my Master Cypress. Ill try my best to help find tracks or signs of our observers."

He gives her a reassuring smile.

Cypress was a trappers' son and had taught him a lot about getting by in the wilderness. The tracks were easy to spot in the daylight. In the Small, three-toed tracks, with little claws. Some kind of small goblinoid. Probably kobolds. Looks to be maybe four or five of them. They snuffled all about the edges of the camp, but there are no tracks near the horses or the supplies.

And they lead off toward the Keep, visible now in the distance.

The grooms and the porters have the camp wrapped up within a short time and are now a little more visibly nervous about what's waiting for them.

"Had a cousin once," Plus says, gloomy, "Had his village raided by them little blighters. Vicious, they is."

OOC: You guys should decide on a loose marching order, and/or how fast you're going or anything you're doing while you walk. We're officially in 'roll for random encounters' territory now.

[NontheistCleric]

As the group sets out, Serien helps take some of the porters' load again.

"When one raids a village, one naturally behaves viciously," he points out to Plut, "but these kobolds—if they are kobolds—have not tried to take our supplies or injure our horses. For whatever reason, it seems they do not wish to harm us or slow us down."

He pauses slightly, thinking. "At least, not yet."

[truemane]

The party strikes off toward the keep, along the Mercadian Road. In the daytime, the tracks are easy enough to find and to follow. A few hundred yards from camp there is a dense copse of trees, and the goblinoid tracks lead there. From there, however, instead of the small three-toed tracks of probably-kobolds, there are what look like rodent tracks. But very, very, very large rodents. And the kobold tracks are nowhere to be seen.

The sun climbs into the sky, bright and hot. The air is dry and sizzling. The party sees nothing of note that morning. Howl can hear the chittering of ground-creatures speaking of their usual concerns: food and predators and food. From far, far away he can hear the sudden alarmed cry of a massive, startled flock of birds (he'd guess some kind of corvid by the complexity of the sound). But that's all.

Camphor flies above, generally unalarmed. Or at least unalerted.

The road forks, one fork going left, to the rising ground and the keep on its stony hill. The other continues on, farther into the Wastes.

Near the fork there is a sudden increase in tracks. Humanoid, this time (or, at least, wearing humanoid footwear). Many tracks, old and new. And even indications of a skirmish or two that was fought near here at some point in the past.

There are many of these tracks leading down toward the Goblinwater, which is close by, and along the road farther into the Waste.

Toward the keep there are the large rodent tracks.

Spoiler: OOC

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The party is right at the fork.

Rolled for Random Encounter every 30 minutes for 4 hours of marching: no encounters.

[JNAProductions]

"Do we have any idea what language the kobolds speak?" Heart ponders aloud. "If we can talk to them, maybe we can work with them instead of just fighting. If we can't even talk, though..."

[Silent_p]

Arabella does her best to keep an extra eye on the group’s surroundings as they travel. The heat of the day and her armour make that a challenge, however, as they progress. Nearing a fork in the road, she glances north toward the keep, wiping some sweat from forehead.

Spoiler: OOC: Nature check on kobolds

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(1d20+2)[14]

”Draconic,” she answers absently, recalling lessons from many years ago. ”Though I believe they understand at least some of the common tongues.”

[JNAProductions]

"I really need to learn that," Heart mutters. "But Clint, you know Draconic, right? So we can talk to them and try to avoid too much fighting."

[(Un)Inspired]

Howl enjoys the final push towards the keep after breaking down the camp. He enjoys both the warm weather and the chatter of the people and animals in the caravan.

When the group arrives at the fork and debates the tracks, Howl nods his head along with Heart’s suggestion of finding a way to avoid conflict with the Kobolds.

“I agree. I’d there’s any way we can avoid an unnecessary fight we should take it.”

[BestUserName]

Clint loves travelling. Being on the road is like a second home to him. As he tracks the shifting footprints, he has a small smile on his face. He makes light conversation along the way and continues to check in with Camphor, every now and then taking a second to get a glance out of Camphor's eyes.

When they arrive at the fork,

"Yes, I speak draconic. I agree finding a peaceful solution would be best. I'm happy to try to talk to them, but I am not always the best with words... when I'm not talking about arcane mysteries, spells, history, or the outdoors I can get a little tongue tied... Serien can speak Draconic too, so he can help.

[JNAProductions]

"Yeah. I was always the better spokesperson for the group," Heart chips in when Clint mentions his lack of eloquence. "For now, though... Onwards!"

[NontheistCleric]

"Let's stop here," Serien says at the fork. Putting the baggage he carries on the ground, he divests himself of crossbow and daggers as well, then sweeps his cloak off his shoulders.

"The first to approach should be unarmed," he explains. As he speaks, splotches of white spread across the cloth in his hands until none of its original navy colour remains. Shaking it as if to fling away nonexistent excess dye, he ties it around the metal rod he carries like a kind of flag. "Also, it would be prudent for those who did not come to risk combat to stay at a distance. Anyone who wishes to keep their hands on a weapon can guard them."

Makeshift banner of peace snapping in the wind, he resumes his walk towards the keep.

Spoiler

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If no one comes out of the keep before he reaches it, Serien will go up to it and knock on whatever kind of door it has.

If someone does come out, I guess we'll see what happens.

[JNAProductions]

Heart looks at Clint. "Someone has to know how to talk well. Keep a look on my weapons,'kay?" she says, handing them over before following Serien.

[Silent_p]

”This seems like a fruitless idea,” Arabella says as she watches Serien prepare the flag of truce. ”I can see the merit in attempting to speak first but to approach completely unarmed? I hope your magic is fit to the task. These creatures are unlikely to abide by civilised discourse...” With Heart leaving her weapons, Arabella shakes her head and says no more.

Planting the butt of her glaive solidly on the ground and maintaining a firm hold of the weapon, she watches the group make their way north to the keep.

[NontheistCleric]

"Fruitless?" Serien echoes. "But what is fruit, Arabellaphon? When those who could have been our siblings and allies lie dead by our hands around us, is that fruit? Today we say the fruit we want is peace; should we not seek that fruit as best we can?"

He pulls the last knot fast on the flag. "In any case, these creatures could have harmed us already by stealing our food or our mounts, yet they did not. I know of many different definitions of 'civilisation', but none which exclude such behaviour."

[BestUserName]

Clint nods at Hearts request and agrees with her. "You are definitely much more conversation savvy than me. I will gladly watch h your weapons. I am concerned about you two being in potential harms way unarmed though as Arabella's expressed. Should we have a signal for the rest of us to charge in if negotiations seem to be going south?

[JNAProductions]

"Signal... I mean, depending on haw far we are when the talks start, what can you really hear?" Heart wonders. "I don't think we need a special signal-just be ready in case you hear the sounds of a fight. Serien, I'm faster than you, and even though I got these claws, I'm not really good with them. Much better with a blade. If negotiations do fall through, I'll run back as fast as I can, screaming my head off the whole time."

Once all the preparations are completed, she looks to Serien, nods, and starts off at a good pace.

Spoiler: OOC

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I'd imagine that, since Heart is a Mongrelfolk and not a Tabaxi, she evinces a decent chunk of possibly draconic heritage, giving her claws. Still retractable, which I don't know if dragon claws are, but if they aren't and hers are... *Shrug*

Magic! :P

[truemane]

1. THE GATE (Heart, Serien)
The road to the keep is overgrown and unkept but not at all difficult to follow. The ramparts loom impressively overhead as the small group walks around, following the curving sweep, to the side. The walls are in poor repair, with crumbled holes and collapsed guard stations, but it was once a mighty fortress. And, with some work and some care, could be again.

The road arrives at the top of the hill, to a wide, grassy, flat area that once probably held fairs and merchants and events of various kinds. Now the grass has grown tall and waves in the sharp breeze.

The gate of the keep stands before you. It looks as though there was once a moat of sorts that emerged from the keep itself and ran in a rivulet and over the edge further on. The ditch is now dry. It is passable, but is a difficult 20 foot climb down and a treacherous climb back up.

A small door opens in the great gate and a reptilian nose can be seen.

"No!" it says, in heavily-accented Centron, "Stop! Surround! Ours! No yours! Bad buhreihn! Bad shuul! Stop!

Those last two words are strange and not Centron at all.

Spoiler: Serien

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Those are very impolite slurs in Undercommon. And they mean, more or less 'one who has grown soft in the sun' and 'violent interloper jerk' respectively.

2. THE PATH (Howl, Arabella, Clint, the hirelings)
The grooms soothe the horses and the porters sit down on nearby rocks to rest their feet as the diplomats vanish up and around the bend.

Then, from beyond the rocks to the left, around the other side of the keep, comes the sudden sound of an animal crying out in pain.

The grooms look at each other and seem about to head that way without even thinking.

Spoiler: Howl

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The animal is crying out in pain, but what it's saying is "FOOD."

Spoiler: Howl and Arabella

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Please roll a Nature check or Survival check (your choice). Howl can roll with advantage. Higher than 12 and you realize this sound is a rodent of some kind. But clearly a very loud rodent. Louder than one would expect.

[JNAProductions]

Spoiler: OOC Note

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Clint was with the employees. It's just me and Serien at the gates.

Heart slowly raises her hands, standing still, and trying to look simultaneously peaceful, but not weak. "We are not here to attack you. We are here peacefully, and unarmed. Is there anything we can do to prove our good intentions?" Heart asks.

[NontheistCleric]

Serien follows the command to stop. "Yours," he acknowledges in Draconic. "We are only visitors, here to speak with you. If you will."

Unlike every other time he has spoken in front of Heart so far, this speech does not seem to be made by a spell.

Spoiler

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Serien tries Draconic first because having to cast a spell to speak anything else might put the occupants on edge. If they appear not to understand that language or speak it well, he will cast minor illusion and repeat the message in Undercommon.

[(Un)Inspired]

“I think that’s a rodent guys. Something loud like a Dire Rat or a Capybara. It’s sounds like it’s in pain, but it’s crying out FOOD. Let’s pause for a second here, I’d hate to stumble into whatever’s going on over there without more information.”

Howl thinks for a moment.

“Clint, can you send Campher to fly overhead and see what’s going on over there?”

[BestUserName]

"I was just thinking the same thing. I will send him over now. If I had to give you my first thoughts it could be a rodent squeeling with excitement to eat us, but is be prodded and held back by someone.

With that Clint calls to Camphor telepathically and asks him to investigate. Camphor, my friend, please investigate those rodent cries.

Clinton walks over to the grooms to reassure them. "Please fear not, we will handle any danger and protect you. Please stay with the horses and try to keep them calm.

Clint then approaches Arrabella and Howl,
Camphor will have information for us soon.

[Silent_p]

Despite her misgivings about the plan, Arabella watches the duo make their way up to the keep. Her gaze is still in that direction when the relative quiet is ruptured by the bellowing roar of what sounds like an enormous creature in pain.

Arabella’s head whips around in that direction as she readies her weapon. ”A rodent?” She asks incredulously. ”That roar was great enough to have come from a dragon!” Nonetheless, she moves around slightly to put herself between the source of the sound and the rest of the group.

As Howl and Clint reassure the non-combatants and arrange scouting, Arabella can only nervously readjust her hold on her glaive and wait.

[truemane]

1. THE GATE (Heart, Serien)
The little reptilian face tilts to one side, then the other, as Heart speaks, as though straining to understand her fancy talk.

"No attack. No tin-ten-tions. Ours. Go."

And then when Serien speaks, it seems more intent. The face peers at Serien, as though trying to work out who (or what) he is. It responds in Draconic. "We are no allowed to speak to outsiders. Olvirk says. Please go away. Or we must attack." A pause. "Must."

Spoiler: Heart

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You don't understand Draconic, but you're surprised to hear the word 'Olvirk' in there. That's a word in Sviligot (the military language). It means, more or less, a natural/unschooled military genius. It's often used to describe leaders of 'uncivilized' groups who become sudden threats to local areas despite apparent military inferiority, and also sometimes used as an insult to someone who thinks they're way smarter than they are.

2. THE PATH (Howl, Clint, Arabella)
Camphor spirals up and up and up and scans the area with his sharp eyes. He sees, quite clearly, a few hundred feet away, around the corner of the keep, a wide clearing surrounded by scrub bushes and some trees.

In the middle is a giant rat, a Dire Rat, large even by Dire standards. One of its legs is caught in a massive rusted metal trap. It lies on the ground, crying out.