This site is an online accumulation of the Post Reports for my current ongoing D&D Campaign - for anyone who might be interested in reading them.

Friday, January 25, 2019

Meet 71, Adv 5, 1/5/19

Took long enough but the group is finally on the heart of the locale and adventure for this campaign. I've run the Terror Dungeon before many many years ago when it was "new" and "fresh" - only discovered and opened perhaps a year. The party that had gone in ended up getting wiped on the 3rd level by Minotaurs so never actually discovered the purpose of the dungeon and some of the hidden bennies.

So when this group wandered into Erylond I have moved time forward 15 years of so since the last campaign had been here and that means much of the place has been explored (upper levels) and there are secrets revealed which the party will get a leg up on. BUT, the dungeon is a living environment and there is a outside issue they have to contend with regarding the Ravenstone that Barb has and Lord Emberwine wants. And the two forces are gossamerly linked together and going to drive the campaign forward.


Write up for the 5th adventure, "The Crackling Terror" begins here:

The group spent the better part of two weeks training, outfitting as needed, closing up any loose ends with Sorton and House Illytch, and finishing up our training as need be. At the end of it all, it was Spiritmonth the 1st and we had joined up with a caravan from House Illytch to Erylond and we were on our way.

The fall was cruising along, days getting shorter and temperatures dropping. The warmest days barely hit 50 and most of the trees had made the shift to vibrant colors already and were shedding leaves swiftly. Between our 12 (13 with Bobkins!), the 6 caravan guards, the 10 caravaneers, and the other 7 travellers, we were a large enough group that most of the local orcish barbarian tribes gave us no trouble.

With the arrival of the late fall months, many of the nomadic tribes had moved their semi-permanent homes closer to the roads to sell their wares and maybe trade (or steal!) until the Reetersbeard Caravan was due to come through again in the mid spring or later. Most everyone gave the orcish Randari a wide berth but Barb did make it her business to trade for some of the local wares and thanked them for their efforts.

Many of the caravan guards had a different view of things, the orcs were a nuisance and should be ignored, pushed back, or rounded up and resettled – it rankled the group and there were some nudging words back and forth over it before the caravanmaster had his men give the party a break and ordered them to stay away.

It was late in the evening when we arrived at the former orcish hilltop keep that had been repurposed as the Iron Toad Inn and Tavern. Well lit and easily defended, it was a fine place for us to rest. Meal was paid for but the group had an upgrade on their room and took their time with a bath and better choice of drink.

We were gone by 8 in the morning the following day, the temperature closer to 47 than not, with the Moratian Mountains giving way to the foothills and then eventually the low valleys where our next stop was to be – the heavily dwarven township of Tariz. Originally orcish, it had been settled by ex-patriots from Jarl’s Tooth and Sorton, most of the town’s 500 denizens being dwarvish or human, and the perhaps 30 or so orcish descended citizenry although “free” had a servile and stepford look to them. There were three inns in town, but only one of them would take our mixed company, another reason for some of the caravaneers to complain about us.

The Rotting Fish was in the poorest section of town, but the inn was surprisingly large and in good repair. It was hostelled by an orcish former arena champion for the League of Odin named Thorfeld. He was gracious to the party even though the food was a poorer than we had been used to, and he did rent us out a larger room for everyone to sleep in for what we thought was a decently low price. The brew to drink was something referred to as “Wolf Piss” which although was not an enticing name, was however a delicious bitter with an acerbic tinge that was surprisingly delicious.

He bent our ear about the Terror Dungeon, advising us to check it out and get out before we wound up dead, and that we were welcome back to Tariz and his employ should we need be.

On the following day we were out again after dawn and on our way to Erylond. The Enderlyn River burbled wide to our south, 800’ wide and moving at a stately clip. There was a bridge spanning it here, in poor repair and no longer capable it would seem of supporting columns of travelers, but possible to cross. Beyond in the distant on the horizon, there were smudges of smoke as if someone lived out there but the map we had only showed something about “Old Erylond” and no other locations marked or mentioned.

By 5:30 we had come upon Erylond itself. The city was situated on a large artificial rise near the River and enclosed in three successively smaller rings of 30’ tall walls, 9’ deep, that cordoned off more and more parts of the city. We waited at the gate for a bit and then once inside, were thanked by the caravanmaster, and given advice that we should go to the north section of town and seek an inn called the Flying Pegasus, right near the adventurer’s guild.

Erylond was home to over a hundred thousand citizens of all types. Many were going about their business as usual, some were armed and armored like us, and others were of a caliber beyond our capabilities at this time. Almost 4 miles oval, we walked though many districts: Religious, sages and records, lower class, weapons, arcane, clothiers. Along the next gate, marked as “Thakian” were the livestock section where beyond we could see various farms, demesnes, and other locales that brought their wares into the city for the teeming throng.

Beyond was the provisioners, the training grounds, the adventuring guild, and then on the north wall was the Flying Pegasus Inn – 4 stories tall, and a stone statue of a Pegasus on the roof as if in mid flight. Not too far from here was the smithing district that we could hear but we went up to the Pegasus ready to go in.

The bouncer, a huge brute of a man over 330 lbs and past 6’ 5”, stopped us and gave us a few rules. Name was Akron and the proprietor of the Pegasus was a well liked man named Teranys. No fighting in the Inn ever. We thanked him, and were introduced to Teranys. Almost 50, nondescript, but everyone in the Inn gave him a toast as he walked through and the group inexplicably liked him and found him ok to deal with.

Having a section of the bar cleared off and us in place, food came out as well as drink and he answered some questions for us about the Terror Dungeon. Even though he had some information for us, he suggested that we talk to Julian the Sage tomorrow before we trip down to Bork Keep. But before anything else, we needed to go to the Adventuring Guild and get a charter. So we were going to finish our meal and then make the trip to the Guild and get that done next before turning in for the night.

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