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[D&D 4E] Shackled City (Game Thread)
simonwolf
i can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered User regular
i can feel a differencetoday, a differenceRegistered User regular
Welcome to the Shackled City!
This is a game thread for a 4th Edition D&D adventure path, run by me.
The party:
Blublo Phillippei, Gnome Warlord [Utsanomiko]
Quinn Arcellis, Human Paladin [Mike Danger]
Kellus, Drow Sorceror [Alecthar]
Kreel, Goliath Avenger [StygianSmileyFace]
Alead, Deva Invoker [GrimmyTOA]
If you can, please have all details for your powers (i.e. attack type, range, damage and effects) in your character sheet. This is mostly because my computer has issues with the Character Builder, and it's an easy way for everyone to keep track o' shit.
This is a combined IC/OOC thread, so keep all OOC stuff in spoilers.
Rolls are to be made on Invisible Castle, with the campaign name Shackled City.
I guess you all know that I'm expecting to see daily posts from you all, except on weekends. I work on a different time scale to you all, so obviously a lot of stuff is going to go on without my immediate interaction - hope you guys are alright with that, because it ain't changing any time soon.
The background setting material (for everyone's reference):
And here all our troubles began...
A gnomish bard sits in the corner of the Drunken Morkoth Inn, plucking his lute to tune it. You can barely hear him over the noise, though - the Inn is reasonably full, this evening. Some people, were they less informed, might be perplexed at the popularity of the place. The food is mediocre, the ale tastes a little more watered down than usual, and the acrid smoke from the pipes and fires don't have many places to exit, so they stew in the air longer than they really should. Overall, there are much better places to be than the Drunken Morkoth on a rainy evening like this.
Of course, being here is better than being inside a kidnapper's sack. It's that reasoning that has packed up the place every night for the past two weeks, ever since the kidnapping total reached five. Safety in numbers is one of those primal instincts that people are willing to go along with, even if it leads them into a place like the Drunken Morkoth.
No matter how long you've been in Cauldron, you've heard the story. Nineteen people have been taken from their homes and never seen again. Just last night, four children were abducted from the Lantern Street Orphanage. Now the rumours are flying thick and heavy through the town.
Some people say that evil cultists are kidnapping the children and sacrificing them to an evil god, who has two heads and tentacles for arms.
Others say that a secret guild of halfling rogues are responsible.
No matter what the truth is, people are scared. That's why they're all gathered up, wherever they can find other people.
Safety in numbers.
It's just past nine o'clock, and the gnome in the corner is starting to sing. Whether you're here to have a drink with friends, or just seeking shelter from the storm, you're in the Drunken Morkoth now. So order up and have a drink - you never know what the night may bring in the city of Cauldron.
This is a game thread for a 4th Edition D&D adventure path, run by me.
The party:
Blublo Phillippei, Gnome Warlord [Utsanomiko]
Quinn Arcellis, Human Paladin [Mike Danger]
Kellus, Drow Sorceror [Alecthar]
Kreel, Goliath Avenger [StygianSmileyFace]
Alead, Deva Invoker [GrimmyTOA]
If you can, please have all details for your powers (i.e. attack type, range, damage and effects) in your character sheet. This is mostly because my computer has issues with the Character Builder, and it's an easy way for everyone to keep track o' shit.
This is a combined IC/OOC thread, so keep all OOC stuff in spoilers.
Rolls are to be made on Invisible Castle, with the campaign name Shackled City.
I guess you all know that I'm expecting to see daily posts from you all, except on weekends. I work on a different time scale to you all, so obviously a lot of stuff is going to go on without my immediate interaction - hope you guys are alright with that, because it ain't changing any time soon.
The background setting material (for everyone's reference):
Map of Cauldron:
The city of Cauldron is going to be the main hub of the campaign. The town's buildings, tightly packed and built from volcanic rock, line the inner bowl of a nameless, dormant volcano. Cobblestone roads form concentric circles around a small lake of cold water, which fills the volcano's basin. Although the town's sewage seeps into the lake, local clerics purify the water for the citizens in exchange for charitable donations to their temples.
A 50-foot-tall fortified wall of black malachite encircles the city, tracing the outer rim of the volcano. Four roads descend the out walls of the volcano, becoming major thoroughfares that lead to other towns and distant realms. The districts nearer the rim of the city tend to be occupied by upper class families and elite merchants. The closer one gets to the centre of town (and closer to the pungeant odours of the lake), the shoddier the construction and the more dangerous the dark alleys.
Most people get around Cauldron on foot, although the town has its share of wagons and carriages, most of them owned by merchants and nobles.
Cauldron itself is situated in the vicinity of the main road that connects the two ends of the region, making it a major trading hub and fortress. The volcano itself forms part of a small mountain chain that breaks apart the massive Cenovis Forest.
The city itself has a quiet history, never having been involved in a major war or conflict. It was founded several hundred years ago by a group of dwarves and humans who sought to create a safehaven for travellers on the trade roads. Since then, the population has grown considerably - its population has members of all the major races in the world, although the humans and dwarves make a considerable majority.
There is a local farming base near Cauldron, mostly to the eastern side of the volcano - although there are smaller, less production-intensive farms to the northern and southern side (and jeez, they make you pay for it), the majority of the home harvest is grown on the east.
Cauldron, and the surrounding forests and mountains, sit in a relatively temperate clime - think Germany, in terms of climate. They experience all four seasons, although winter isn't generally freezing cold - rather, winter is a flood season in Cauldron, due to the higher amount of rain overwhelming the lake's natural drainage. Although, it has been a decade since the last major flood.
Recently, however, the quiet of the city has been shattered. A series of kidnappings have seen more than thirty people from Cauldron disappear without a trace. Paranoid, more and more people are seen travelling in groups or staying until the early hours at the Drunken Morkoth Inn, or the Tipped Tankard Tavern. Without any clues to go on, the people are beginning to fear that the criminals may never be caught.
The city of Cauldron is going to be the main hub of the campaign. The town's buildings, tightly packed and built from volcanic rock, line the inner bowl of a nameless, dormant volcano. Cobblestone roads form concentric circles around a small lake of cold water, which fills the volcano's basin. Although the town's sewage seeps into the lake, local clerics purify the water for the citizens in exchange for charitable donations to their temples.
A 50-foot-tall fortified wall of black malachite encircles the city, tracing the outer rim of the volcano. Four roads descend the out walls of the volcano, becoming major thoroughfares that lead to other towns and distant realms. The districts nearer the rim of the city tend to be occupied by upper class families and elite merchants. The closer one gets to the centre of town (and closer to the pungeant odours of the lake), the shoddier the construction and the more dangerous the dark alleys.
Most people get around Cauldron on foot, although the town has its share of wagons and carriages, most of them owned by merchants and nobles.
Cauldron itself is situated in the vicinity of the main road that connects the two ends of the region, making it a major trading hub and fortress. The volcano itself forms part of a small mountain chain that breaks apart the massive Cenovis Forest.
The city itself has a quiet history, never having been involved in a major war or conflict. It was founded several hundred years ago by a group of dwarves and humans who sought to create a safehaven for travellers on the trade roads. Since then, the population has grown considerably - its population has members of all the major races in the world, although the humans and dwarves make a considerable majority.
There is a local farming base near Cauldron, mostly to the eastern side of the volcano - although there are smaller, less production-intensive farms to the northern and southern side (and jeez, they make you pay for it), the majority of the home harvest is grown on the east.
Cauldron, and the surrounding forests and mountains, sit in a relatively temperate clime - think Germany, in terms of climate. They experience all four seasons, although winter isn't generally freezing cold - rather, winter is a flood season in Cauldron, due to the higher amount of rain overwhelming the lake's natural drainage. Although, it has been a decade since the last major flood.
Recently, however, the quiet of the city has been shattered. A series of kidnappings have seen more than thirty people from Cauldron disappear without a trace. Paranoid, more and more people are seen travelling in groups or staying until the early hours at the Drunken Morkoth Inn, or the Tipped Tankard Tavern. Without any clues to go on, the people are beginning to fear that the criminals may never be caught.
And here all our troubles began...
A gnomish bard sits in the corner of the Drunken Morkoth Inn, plucking his lute to tune it. You can barely hear him over the noise, though - the Inn is reasonably full, this evening. Some people, were they less informed, might be perplexed at the popularity of the place. The food is mediocre, the ale tastes a little more watered down than usual, and the acrid smoke from the pipes and fires don't have many places to exit, so they stew in the air longer than they really should. Overall, there are much better places to be than the Drunken Morkoth on a rainy evening like this.
Of course, being here is better than being inside a kidnapper's sack. It's that reasoning that has packed up the place every night for the past two weeks, ever since the kidnapping total reached five. Safety in numbers is one of those primal instincts that people are willing to go along with, even if it leads them into a place like the Drunken Morkoth.
No matter how long you've been in Cauldron, you've heard the story. Nineteen people have been taken from their homes and never seen again. Just last night, four children were abducted from the Lantern Street Orphanage. Now the rumours are flying thick and heavy through the town.
Some people say that evil cultists are kidnapping the children and sacrificing them to an evil god, who has two heads and tentacles for arms.
Others say that a secret guild of halfling rogues are responsible.
No matter what the truth is, people are scared. That's why they're all gathered up, wherever they can find other people.
Safety in numbers.
It's just past nine o'clock, and the gnome in the corner is starting to sing. Whether you're here to have a drink with friends, or just seeking shelter from the storm, you're in the Drunken Morkoth now. So order up and have a drink - you never know what the night may bring in the city of Cauldron.
Now's the time to mingle, get to know each other, interact with NPCs and so forth. I'll start the actual hook later, once you've all rocked up and gotten ready, since you didn't have a chance to bond or decide on a party origin in the recruitment thread.
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Maybe his good works, whispers a voice in his head. Maybe it's just the blue skin and the lack of pupils, hisses another one.
He lowers himself into a suddenly vacated chair beside the fire, and the server brings him a cup of spiced wine. Alead nods absently at the man, who remains nearby. Moments pass. The server shuffles his feet and coughs. Alead, snapped from his reverie, looks up at the man and blinks.
What does he want? A benediction? A conversation? The voices of his past selves chime in with suggestions. Alead shakes his head and smiles at the server.
"Sorry, my friend. My mind was somewhere else. How much do I owe you?"
The server paid and gone, Alead returns his attention to the thronging, stinking crowd in the Morkoth. Pelor had insisted that Alead visited this Inn on this night, but had been obstinately silent as to why. Presumably something will reveal itself.
Alead settles in to await developments.
That was what he was born for.
Unless you want me to choose your portraits for you, in which case I see a team of Barbara Streisands flying into battle. Also, a gnome.
"I'm afraid I haven't any coin to pay with except this one..." he says with a merry grin, holding up the rust-caked coin from under his shirt. The bartender nods and slides him a cup of beer, which he carries back to his seat carefully, as if it were a real glass and not just wood.
Quinn kicks his foot back against the table again, jostling the unused cutlery around him. The Ferrozo brothers are supposedly having a go at the strongroom behind the jeweller's tonight...but for now, the beer is cold and the fire is hot, and Avandra will forgive.
From a forceful push the inn door swings open, and from the rainy outside steps in a Gnome of squat stature. His elegant banded armor and shoulder-slung scabbard might have marked him as a swordsman of high reputation, or perhaps just bravado.
He shakes the droplets from his cap, twists his moustache dry, and slowly strides through the room. He gives a slow glance all around, looking upon every patron's face as if counting their number would give some important meaning. A servant approaches to ask him his choice of refreshments, but the Gnome merely waves him off and continues searching for a moment longer.
The troubles this town faces extend beyond reach of myself alone, the thought worked its way across the lines on his tanned face. The Gnome's trail had ended here; he was out of his element, out of leads, and out of rations. These people are going to need something more.
From a nearby table, he pulls out a chair and stands on top of it.
"I have come to Cauldron," the Gnome declares with forceful volume. "and I have found it gripped by fear. Fear and inaction. Its troubles have cleared its streets and forced its people into hiding. And with them, their sense of justice has been snuffed out, their will and their drive to fight back hidden from sight from the darkness outside."
"But I am not here to hide, for I am a fellow of action. I am Blublo of the Noble Knights Phillippei, and I ask of you here-" he passes a stubby hand over half the room with a wave, "those of you who may be driven to act, to join me in action. Stand up and seak out those who would terrorize this town with kidnappings, be they fiends or be they villains, it makes no difference to me. With many of us, we might work together and thwart these troubles, and return the people of Cauldron to normal living!"
Blublo hops down from his chair with a creaking thump. "Now who will act with me?" He remains standing by his chair.
The armoured gnome's head disappears from view as he climbs down from the chair, and the voices of Alead's former selves fall silent. Alead stands, and catches sight of the gnome again.
This one, Alead. The voice of Pelor echoes down the long corridors of Alead's mind. This one.
Alead sweeps across the room and regards the gnome silently for a moment.
"Sir Blublo. My name is now Alead. It is a great pleasure to meet you." The words are slow -- tentative. Each one is considered and weighed before being spoken. Alead extends his right hand in greeting and smiles.
"I am Blublo of the Noble Knights Phillippei"
Kreel gave a start, memory tripping as one large hand fumbled through his cloak to pull forth the everchanging list that was his burden to carry. Lost in the darkness of his hood he searched the list, and felt his heart race.
"Blublo, Knight of Phillippei"
He looked lower, seeking the crime that would be the cause of this creature's demise. A sound like stone grinding startled those around him, and Kreel crushed the list in one huge hand. As the stone representation of a Raven's wing began to warm against his chest the Goliath stood and started making his way towards the Gnome.
"Follow..." He muttered, absently shoving aside a curious patron. "Will my trials never cease?"
"A holy man, I take it?" Blublo says with a nod. "Well, your help is much appreciated. As of now I have little information to go by, but I trust with some effort we can scour the city for answers in the 'morrow."
He turns slightly to face the approaching giant.
"I am Kreel." A few moments pass. "I believe we have... Similiar... Goals here."
"Then well met, my good man. Things may be looking up now that you're here."
"Sheep to the slaughter," he thinks to himself "Only this time they've penned themselves up nicely."
He watches as a small commotion begins around the pompous-sounding Gnome.
"A Deva and a Goliath? Strange company the little one keeps..."
Finally, Kellus speaks up:
"'Thwart these troubles?' Those are big words from one so small, Gnome."
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Curiouser and curiouser.
"Not all of us are so small." Alead nods at the Goliath looming over the other patrons at the bar. "And Sir Blublo seems to not lack for bravado."
Finally, as the gnome steps down, he leans over the table and stares intently, watching to see what will happen next. As the others gather, Quinn closes his eyes and prays frantically under his breath, and then drowns the last of his drink in one huge, shuddering gulp.
He stands up, withdrawing his "knightly things"--a ratty old backpack of odds and ends he's collected from the streets--and a poorly maintained sword and scabbard--and walks over to the little clutch.
"Sir Arcellis of Caldron," he says. "Servin' the Lady of the Change." He pulls up the coin from under his shirt again and smiles weakly.
In the back of his head, a smart little voice: Oh, no, here we go again...
The weight of the coin against his chest is comforting, though, and he relaxes a little.
"It's his bravado that worries me. Too much of it's not healthy. If I'm to be solving these kidnappings along side this pint-sized fellow, I'd prefer it if he didn't charge in half-cocked like he's done here. Who knows what manner of attention his little announcement has attracted?"
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"There are ears here." His knuckles crack as he adds silently to himself. "And damn you Queen for bringing such attention to me!"
"Very pleased to meet you, Sir Arcellis. Pelor and Avandra have long been allies and kindred spirits."
Alead turns to the Drow. The air seems to vibrate around this strange man.
"I suppose that you're right, Mr...?" Alead lets the sentence trail off slightly before continuing. "My experience in such matters is limited, in this body. What I know of plots and dangers is an echo of a dream."
Alead is silent again, and seems to lose himself in thought.
"The Goliath is right, if we are to discuss these kidnappings, better to do it where there are not so many curious folk to hear us."
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"Forgive my rudeness, I've failed to introduce myself. I am Kellus, no title or noble order I'm afraid."
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"I will ask the landlord for the use of one of his rooms." He turns and walks through the now mostly-silent crowd toward the bar.
"I apologize for my behavior, Sir Bublo, I'm...not at my best. 'Twas not my intent to demean your goals or your stature, merely to advise some measure of caution and watchfulness. The crowd here at the Morkoth is hardly the cream of Cauldron's crop, and there's no telling what men seized by fear will do."
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Keep your eyes peeled for Bugbears.
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THUS HAS AVANDRA SPAKE
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"The same people who've been making those strange jester-stamped coins," an older dwarf exclaims, "I'm certain they're behind it!"
"I heard from my friend, who knew poor Coryston Pike, that she was fadin' away in the days before her kidnapping," says a young woman from the bar. "Disappearin' from a magical disease, just like the dwarves of Jzadirune!"
"Fools," a disheveled man with flaming red hair says, "You're all a bunch of fools. There's no way you can defeat them all... all the bugbears." He looks up and stares directly into Kellus's eyes, then repeats, "Bugbears."
Bugbearsssssss.
As Alead heads towards the bar, however, another commotion rises from the entrance of the place. Two gentlemen, hoods raised to obscure their faces, burst through the door and run to the bar. They tap the shoulders of three other men, also hooded, and lean forward to whisper something.
Alead:
After this, all five of the men quickly drop coins on the table and exit the bar as quickly as the first two entered. A few seconds of people cursing loudly and harassing the hooded men follow, but that fades down as well. The door closes, and people get back to trying to remain safe, no matter how watered-down and smelly that safety may be.
Striding back toward them, he relates what he'd overheard.
"I'm not sure who he is," he continues, "but I'd like to know."
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What is it? Have I seen this before?
Perception Check: 19
And I'll even toss in a History check: 21
Alead, Kellus:
EDIT:
Alead: