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Rise of Tiamat - Intro
- Thread starter Envisioner
- Start date
jmucchiello
Hero
"Yes." Ana says. "Worse, they went that way." She points to the tracks and points down the road.
jmucchiello
Hero
"It's not out of the way to follow them," Ana says. "So why not follow them?"
L
lowkey13
Guest
*Deleted by user*
mips42
Adventurer
The smoky haze suits Dumos' atitude just fine. There's coin to be had and they've locked the doors. typical. Looking grimly at his traveling companion, "Ash and smoke are only rarely in the best interest of civilized people. Smells like money, to me. Let's see what's going on." Pulling his traveling cloak around and over his large form as much as possible, Dumos approaches the guards and, in a quiet, calm voice "Say there, private. My companion and I have business in this place. Why are the gates closed?"
Envisioner
Explorer
@lowkey13: You get inspiration for that line; I can see your character is going to be leaning on the fourth wall a lot. (Turns out the Buddha wasn't kidding when he said "all is illusion", though I doubt he expected this kind of thing....)
IC to Bannor's group: You find the tracks along the road itself so faint that it's impossible to tell which direction they were traveling in; you didn't pass a group like this, but the traces have been here for long enough that this really doesn't mean anything, as they could have gone any number of other places that you've already passed without leaving any obvious signs. On the other hand, there's a depression a short distance past the sign (away from the road, but close enough to be in view) where the ground is low enough to have gathered a puddle of rainwater from a few days ago which has yet to fully evaporate. Ashur at least recognizes the potential of such a spot, and sure enough, closer inspection proves that the mud around the puddle holds tracks beautifully; at least one member of the group did head off across the field toward some nearby hills, where the Deadly Whatever is presumably shackled. The prints are shod rather than sabatoned, and close to the remaining water at the bottom of the low area, one bootprint has a circular hole next to it, more than a full inch deep, exactly as might be made if someone leaned on a thick cane or thin staff in order to pull their foot out of the wet earth.
As Robyn and Dumos pull up to the gates, the two guards (one a typical-enough looking human with a red face and a thin mustache, the other a gray-skinned half-orc who you think is probably a woman, though the shapeless breastplates both are wearing make it difficult to be sure) eye them with a degree of suspicion, particularly lingering upon Dumos. While tieflings are far from unheard-of throughout the Realms, and most people understand that they are capable of good or ill just as most folk are, they haven't had a "Drizz't" for their culture to help break down old suspicions, so they face almost as much undue scrutiny as the rare surface Drow used to do, before tales of the famous ranger became ubiquitous bardic fare.
The guards keep their halberds pointed upright, but are distinctly less than relaxed as the two newcomers approach. Still, they seem satisfied enough to let you get within speaking distance. It might have been better to let Robyn speak first, but too late now. The half-orc remains as silent as a stone statue (and barely more mobile) at your address, but the human hesitates only a second or two as he considers your words. "The town's been under attack, to put it mildly. Things seem calm for the moment, but tensions are high, and we've become aware of some serious lapses in our security. You look average enough for travelers, but I think I'd better call the captain over before we think about letting you two in."
Fortunately you don't have to do any waiting, because the captain was apparently just walking by up atop the wall, and his ears are sharp enough to have caught the exchange. For all of the things Dumos and Robyn have seen in their travels to date, both are almost certainly a trifle flabbergasted when the half-elf jumps between two crenellations and plummets the twenty feet to the ground, his golden cloak billowing behind him as he proceeds to make a perfect superhero landing, with barely enough of an impact to be heard. He straightens back up with a self-satisfied grin. "That oracle was worth every penny we paid her," he says by way of introduction. "A tiefling and his compatriot, right on schedule. There's not a prayer we would let you through this gate yesterday, or if you were coming from the same direction where she entered the town. But unless you're both wizards who can teleport, I can safely assume you're not any confederates of hers, so if a holy prophet vouches for you sight-unseen, I'm willing to trust that. OPEN UP!" he finishes, yelling up to the men atop the wall (none of whom, by the way, showed the slightest surprise that their commander lacks the patience for stairs; apparently this is his usual practice).
The gates creak open slowly, and you begin to see the source of the guards' high alert. While the marketplace seems reasonably calm (if still borderline empty) at the moment, the two massive carcasses heaped at the far side of it make clear that the peaceful conditions are a recent development (within 50 hours, according to the commander's timeline). Both massive mounds of meat and bone are partially surrounded by hastily-constructed scaffolding, swarming with workmen who far outnumber the villagers going about their business normally (at least within the small window of your current view). The stench of burnt flesh and caustic fluids is at a bare minimum for the moment, reaching you only when the wind shifts in your direction, but you can't imagine how bad this place is going to smell in another day or two, if those laborers don't finish stripping the skeletons fast and then find somewhere to put all the meat.
(I don't mean to ignore Robyn's contribution to the scene; feel free to make either a Perception roll, as indicated by your earlier mention that you were looking around, for any details beyond what I've just laid out that might interest you...or else a Religion check to recall information about prophets and/or oracles, since apparently one of them is the only reason you're getting into town tonight.)
IC to Bannor's group: You find the tracks along the road itself so faint that it's impossible to tell which direction they were traveling in; you didn't pass a group like this, but the traces have been here for long enough that this really doesn't mean anything, as they could have gone any number of other places that you've already passed without leaving any obvious signs. On the other hand, there's a depression a short distance past the sign (away from the road, but close enough to be in view) where the ground is low enough to have gathered a puddle of rainwater from a few days ago which has yet to fully evaporate. Ashur at least recognizes the potential of such a spot, and sure enough, closer inspection proves that the mud around the puddle holds tracks beautifully; at least one member of the group did head off across the field toward some nearby hills, where the Deadly Whatever is presumably shackled. The prints are shod rather than sabatoned, and close to the remaining water at the bottom of the low area, one bootprint has a circular hole next to it, more than a full inch deep, exactly as might be made if someone leaned on a thick cane or thin staff in order to pull their foot out of the wet earth.
As Robyn and Dumos pull up to the gates, the two guards (one a typical-enough looking human with a red face and a thin mustache, the other a gray-skinned half-orc who you think is probably a woman, though the shapeless breastplates both are wearing make it difficult to be sure) eye them with a degree of suspicion, particularly lingering upon Dumos. While tieflings are far from unheard-of throughout the Realms, and most people understand that they are capable of good or ill just as most folk are, they haven't had a "Drizz't" for their culture to help break down old suspicions, so they face almost as much undue scrutiny as the rare surface Drow used to do, before tales of the famous ranger became ubiquitous bardic fare.
The guards keep their halberds pointed upright, but are distinctly less than relaxed as the two newcomers approach. Still, they seem satisfied enough to let you get within speaking distance. It might have been better to let Robyn speak first, but too late now. The half-orc remains as silent as a stone statue (and barely more mobile) at your address, but the human hesitates only a second or two as he considers your words. "The town's been under attack, to put it mildly. Things seem calm for the moment, but tensions are high, and we've become aware of some serious lapses in our security. You look average enough for travelers, but I think I'd better call the captain over before we think about letting you two in."
Fortunately you don't have to do any waiting, because the captain was apparently just walking by up atop the wall, and his ears are sharp enough to have caught the exchange. For all of the things Dumos and Robyn have seen in their travels to date, both are almost certainly a trifle flabbergasted when the half-elf jumps between two crenellations and plummets the twenty feet to the ground, his golden cloak billowing behind him as he proceeds to make a perfect superhero landing, with barely enough of an impact to be heard. He straightens back up with a self-satisfied grin. "That oracle was worth every penny we paid her," he says by way of introduction. "A tiefling and his compatriot, right on schedule. There's not a prayer we would let you through this gate yesterday, or if you were coming from the same direction where she entered the town. But unless you're both wizards who can teleport, I can safely assume you're not any confederates of hers, so if a holy prophet vouches for you sight-unseen, I'm willing to trust that. OPEN UP!" he finishes, yelling up to the men atop the wall (none of whom, by the way, showed the slightest surprise that their commander lacks the patience for stairs; apparently this is his usual practice).
The gates creak open slowly, and you begin to see the source of the guards' high alert. While the marketplace seems reasonably calm (if still borderline empty) at the moment, the two massive carcasses heaped at the far side of it make clear that the peaceful conditions are a recent development (within 50 hours, according to the commander's timeline). Both massive mounds of meat and bone are partially surrounded by hastily-constructed scaffolding, swarming with workmen who far outnumber the villagers going about their business normally (at least within the small window of your current view). The stench of burnt flesh and caustic fluids is at a bare minimum for the moment, reaching you only when the wind shifts in your direction, but you can't imagine how bad this place is going to smell in another day or two, if those laborers don't finish stripping the skeletons fast and then find somewhere to put all the meat.
(I don't mean to ignore Robyn's contribution to the scene; feel free to make either a Perception roll, as indicated by your earlier mention that you were looking around, for any details beyond what I've just laid out that might interest you...or else a Religion check to recall information about prophets and/or oracles, since apparently one of them is the only reason you're getting into town tonight.)
mips42
Adventurer
"Oracle?" Dumos peers intensely at the half elf.
Envisioner
Explorer
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billd91
Not your screen monkey (he/him) 🇺🇦🇵🇸🏳️⚧️
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Robyn returns Dumos's look, "When we are heralded by the gods, who are we to argue? After you." And he gestures for the tiefling to lead the way.
As they clear the gate, Robyn tries to engage the captain, "We do appreciate your hospitality at what is clearly a time of trouble. Perhaps if you could tell us more about the nature of the attack upon the town, we would be able to render suitable assistance."
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