We had a change of people at the table after not playing for 22 weeks and that meant the roster of characters also changed as well. So we had three new characters get introduced and had to weave them into the story and game accordingly.
I am not one of those DM's that says what you can and can't play - as long as you understand that your unique snowflake might not fit in to the rest of the world/group/setting - and will have to suffer through it accordingly. So I have a new player who rolls up his guy and declares that he wants his half-elf to be a "Space Elf" - from somewhere completely different - somehow transported here and trying to find his way.
I do have Spelljammers and have had the Barrier Peaks impact on my world before so this isn't outside the realm of possible - but I am not going to just hand it to him. His character looks and is exactly like a group of half crazed Helf we liberated when we complete Candlewick Keep - and there is no reason to think he is NOT one of those Helfs.
But he also isn't, having a full knowledge of some sort of Edgar Rice Borrough's/Gama World sort of life before now. I am walking a fine line and something planned (actually 2) in the future around this assuming he lives. We'll see what the party does with it.
Write up follows:
The party met with the representatives from the Argosility Mage’s Guild, the high master present was named Derin Longfire. The group spent a few days going over all the items found, gathering prices for them, deciding what needed to be sold off, and arranging a trip to Ferron to sell the mundane gear there since the current Trading House which was once Sern’s was still in the process of being stocked and changed over to the new merchant family, Marig.
Towards the end of the 3 day visit, the conversation turned to one of Derin’s assistants, a young magic-user of some skill named Quintus. Quintus was once a child of Shakun but had been squirrelled away after his 14th birthday when he developed magical ability and almost burned down the family home. He has spent the majority of his time in Gul and Argosility, training and refining his control and craft. As of this time, Master Longfire has declared Quintus no longer either a neophyte nor an apprentice, and releases him from his need and requirement to return to the Chapterhouse in Argosility.
The conversation then turned to the Mage’s Guild reestablishing ties with the long forgotten “west”. It has been over a quarter of a century since they’ve had any chapterhouses West of Gul and by having a Chapterhouse Mage working with one of the first Adventuring Groups that has been reestablished is not only exciting, but a boon for recruitment for future wizards as well as allowing the guild to have some sort of presence out here. Plus they are willing to pick up the 35 crown Charter fee.
The party was happy to welcome Quintus and he was escorted with us back to the Hall of Heroes where he met everyone and was then given a room assignment. As a final, Master Longfire asked the party (since they were always looking for “adventure worthy goals”) to be on the look out for 4 different magical items that had been in the Chapterhouse inventory before the Goblinwar, but had been either lost or stolen during that time. These items are marginally dangerous and require some care if found. A bounty was placed on each item (from 400 crowns to 2,000) should the group uncover the items in question and bring them back to the Chapterhouse.
At this time it was decided that Auri, Mummus, and Taryn would all be travelling east to Ferron and Gul to sell off what wares we could before returning. We told them that we would be most likely heading to Heatherfield and on their return, should meet us there next. They left with a hand cart laden with trade goods and hoped to return soon.
A few days later we were requested to meet with Father Gavilerin @ the Temple Grounds. It seems that for the last month or so he has had a strange Half-Elf who had been suffering from some wounds as well as malnutrition at the Hospice. Identified as Zeta, he had a fanciful story that he was a Space Elf (or Helf) who had been the victim of a dragon-sorcerer’s phase shifting singularity spell and wound up here on this primitive planet in some keep that had been burning – about 2 months ago. He then wandered the woods, eking out a survival in the Endless Forest when a goblin patrol stumbled upon him. Using the only weapon he had with him, an item he referred to as a Vibrodagger – he killed the goblins, took their strange metallic rocks, and kept walking south. Eventually he was found and brought to Shakun where Father Gavilerin has been taking care of him for almost a month.
He is “healthy”, although still only half convinced that he belongs here and is not a Space-Elf. Father Gavilerin wanted the party to meet with Zeta because a number of his descriptions of where he had been matched the stories and locales the group had said was Candlewick Keep. When we first met him, Zeta looked very familiar (with the green hair and red eyes) to the crazed half-elves who had been deep under the Hestian curse @ Candlewick, and Geld, who originally lived there, was 100% sure that Zeta was one of the half-elves. However, Zeta had no idea who the group was and knew things that were either such a delusion or so far removed from this plane of reality that there was little way of knowing with 100% accuracy if he was indeed a Space-Elf.
The Temple grounds was able to pay for the Charter to have Zeta join the party, his skills as a fighter already proven by his scars and survival;, his scouting and exploring skills implied by his tales. We also brought him back to the Hall of Heroes (freeing up a much needed bed @ the Hospice) and helped him become indoctrinated with the party.
We had already had conversation with Baron Taugis about going after the next bandit enclave – this one between Timberton and Heatherfield. Doing so would open up the trade roads a bit more and allow much needed horses and ponies to be traded with Shakun, Orland, and Timberton. We accepted the mission and according to Baron Taugis were given 75 crowns up front for food and supplies, with another 75 to come @ the end on completion. Also, there was a 25 crown bounty for each bandit we were able to bring in (alive).
So many of us were completing our training and equipping for this adventure when we received a visitor. A ranger names Tranis from Sorkajot (all the way on the other side of the kingdom, north of Gul and near the border with Daro) had come here after his 2 year stint as a border guard was up. He wanted to opportunity to make more of himself and the Adventuring Group’s existence and the promise of the open west appealed to him. So he took the trip out here and was hoping to be hired on. Since we knew that we wanted a Ranger in the group, especially one who was a certified King’s Man (even if of the lowest tier) would only further enhance our standing and authority. He was welcomed with open arms and we went to Town Hall where we filled out a new Charter and had it registered.
As the days progressed, Marcus had a late night visitor. A white and yellow plate mail clad elven person named Speaker Delarrin Othicari. He wanted an accounting from Marcus as to exactly what happened to Fist’al and where he thinks he might be. There were obvious holes in the official story (a bounty for a donkey?) but Marcus was forthright (if full of shit) and unwavering in his answers. Delarrin then went to the Hall of Heroes to talk to Flimflam, getting the same sort of answers there. He left thanking everyone for their aid and promising to be in touch in the near future.
Finally, Watermonth the 11th, the party was ready and gear was handed out as needed to our new and former companions. We left during the crisp fall day, the temperature over 60 and the sky clear. It took us the majority of the day to make it to the Roaring Treant Inn where we split up into the Common room as well as some purchased bedrooms. We had seen many travelers during the day, but the most bothersome was a dozen elves on horseback, clad in white and yellow, heading west towards Shakun. For some reason, we felt good to be out of town when we did.
We slept in, Quintus enticing one of the bar wenches to help warm his bed (it was a miserable time, she just lied there). The next morn was a mass of pounding rain and wind, cold temperatures in the 50’s. We opted to stay here another day.
We left the next day (the 13th) and made it to Timberton before more inclement weather struck. Timberton was a logging town – perhaps 800 or so people, a couple of mills, lots of work – most of it dirty. Watching our coins we did not want to stay in the Inn, instead getting room and board at the Dowager Merrins home. We stayed the night and also the next day, the weather working against us.
Finally on Watermonth the 15th we trekked our way south towards Heatherfield. There was a Thorpe between the two towns called Dairymeade where we hoped to make before evening fell. Our only major travelers on the road was a group of men travelling south, hoping to be one step ahead of the tax collectors and not appear on the census rolls. In doing so, they will avoid paying taxes for this quarter. We wished them well and kept going.
It was just before 6 PM on Watermonth the 15th when we came upon the small village of Dairymeade. An earthen work surrounded the maybe 15 or 20 buildings, a pair or rolling barricades could act as gates if need be. There was a large inn on one side of the road and a prominent cheese maker was on the other. The party stood before the inn named “The Laughing Cow” and then proceeded toward the front door.