0 Azzy 0

Storm King's Thunder

"Wonderful!" The captain exclaimed, clearly thrilled to have claimed ownership of an entire town for himself without having to do more than wave a sword around a bit to do so. "In that case, I would like you all to surrender your weapons for the time being- in the name of peace of course. I'm afraid tha-"

"No." Cut in Kella, not looking at either her Zhentarim allies or the caravan guards but instead peeking inside one corner of the package. She had initially taken the parcel with some mistrustful hesitance, which had abated once she got a brief look at what it contained. "They're friends. We can probably trust them far enough to not try anything overtly stupid. Let 'em keep their weapons.

"Oh. Er, alright then. I suppose if that's all settled, then be my guest." With that, he makes a broad gesture in the direction of the inn, which has clearly fallen victim to at least one boulder. Still, the building was large and sturdy, so there were likely at least a few rooms still intact. " I offer you all the hospitality my grand new town has available at the moment. If you do happen to end up running across any of my new subjects, do be so kind as to inform them of the change in management."

Group 2: Curse of Strahd [5e]

Jump from one carriage to the next dramatically!

Group 2: Curse of Strahd [5e]

The half-elf Elran, amateur entertainer and accidental paladin, shifted uncomfortably on his seat. All his armor and weaponry had been crammed in a bag that was currently pressed against his side, jostling against him every time they hit a bump in the road. Not paying attention to the darkening weather or the crazy mutterings of the man he knew basically nothing about that shared his wagon, Elran busied himself fiddlling with the lute lying across his lap, now and again giving it an experimental strum before grimacing and returning back to his tuning of the instrument.

"It's Elran. El-ran. Not El-ah-ran." He responded in rote monotone, reciting a conversation he was all too accustomed to having every single time they stopped someplace new along the road. It was as though people saw his slightly pointed ears and found the need to jam as many extra vowels into his name as possible to fit to their notion of how elven names were supposed to sound. Shaking his head as he came out of his personal reverie, he finally looked up from his intrument. "I'm sorry, that was rude, it's just-"

Realizing who had been addressing him, he gave an exasperated sigh yet grinned nonetheless- the reaction of one who realizes he's being made mock of but doesn't hold it against the instigator. After all, his companion had probably been there half the time he had found himself correcting some passing villager or shopkeep and likely knew exactly how he felt on the matter. "So, uhh, what were you saying? I'm afraid I wasn't really paying attention. Something about a blind man and a road?"

Storm King's Thunder

"Describe her? Why, you can see for yourself- that's the villain right before your eyes! One of you heroic folk seize her!" Declares the good captain, ripping sword from scabbard and pointing at the doorway of the inn, where a woman has emerged to examine the fresh corpse. Wearing a set of brown monk's robes, the face you can see within the drawn hood is that of a Chondathan human. In one hand she carries a loaded crossbow, while a small winged serpent coils around the other arm.

"Drop the theatrics, you thick-headed ass. The townsfolk all jumped ship when the giants attacked, this lot are all just a bunch of vagabonds that showed up later looking for plunder." She says, ignoring the exaggerated gesticulating Alassandar had been doing while she glances over the rest of his party as if making a quick head count. "And most of them are in pretty rough shape as best I can tell from what I saw of their scuffle with the goblins earlier."

"Ah. Well. If that's the case." He responds, seeming almost disappointed to have to end his charade so soon. With a sharp gesture from his left hand, the rasping sound of six more swords being drawn can be heard. "I hereby claim this town in the name of the Zhentarim. Any objections?"

Group 2: Curse of Strahd [5e]

ANOTHER ONE! *cheers*

Group 2: Curse of Strahd [5e]

Elran would prolly be hanging in the same cart as his FRIEND AND COMPANION Jester.

Storm King's Thunder

Though the rest of the band shifts uneasily at the approach of four more armed people, their leader makes a placating gesture before urging his horse towards the newcomers. "Well met indeed, my friends." He replies cheerfully, raising his own hand to return Anchor's gesture. A bronze-skinned half-elf, he give the group a quick, appraising glance before returning his attention to Marcon "You know, it's the strangest thing. I feel as though I know you from somewhere." After a brief, thoughtful moment he shrugs and resumes talking "Ah well, it is of no importance. My name is Xolkin Alassandar. As a token of my goodwill and friendship I will be forthright about my purpose here. You see, I and my companions are all mercenaries- bounty hunters, in truth- tasked with bringing a fugitive by the name of Kella Darkhope back with us to Waterdeep in order to face justice."

Sitting upright in his saddle and craning his neck, he glances around the town square as if expecting to see his quarry lurking behind an overturned cart. I must comment on how few people I've seen about. That, the wreckage, the blood splatters and those little goblinoid corpses leads me to believe this town has seen better days. If you would bring your people out of hiding, I would be more than happy to offer the aid of my men in repairing and rebuilding what we can once we've had a good look over them to make sure the criminal is not hiding among your people.

No sooner does he finish speaking than the door to the northernmost building- a large tavern bearing a wrought-iron sign with the name "Nightstone Inn" facing the square- flies open. In the doorway is the small figure of another goblin that apparently missed out on all the excitement up until this point. It takes a brief panicked glance back within the tavern as it stumbles out into the fading light. With a loud *THWANG* the goblin pitches face first into the dirt, a crossbow bolt sticking from its back.

Group 2: Curse of Strahd [5e]

Elran

Group 2: Curse of Strahd [5e]

I'll be honest that I haven't looked at the other thread and very likely won't do so until after our own plot moves waaaay past them (which we are def gunna do amirite?). So, any plot hooks are just swell to me.

Storm King's Thunder

As you all cross the bridge and begin to head back towards the cart in the middle of the town square, you notice something rather unusual. It seems that a large number of horsemen have arrived from somewhere and partially encircled the cart. Though you are a bit far away and unable to discern too much until you get closer, it seems as though one of the riders has taken the lead and approached the caravan guards you left behind. At the moment things seem to be going peacefully enough, but there is no mistaking that these riders are all armed and likely ready for a fight if some manner of hostile action were to provoke them.