Arty Fox

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 03 HP: 24 / 24 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Township Thoroughfare Action: Lending a hand Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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His smile dropped.

"Oh. Well then... That's rather unfortunate."

BlackBerry clicked his tongue in thought and tried to distract himself from his immense feeling of foolishness. As the other two described it he might have just missed the Sheriff, possibly by a few days…and by going in completely the wrong direction.

"Last person I had spoken to assured me he was in Avonshire." Muttering to himself more than anything. "Oh well. Can't be helped I suppose."

His frown only deepened as the heavens began to open in a clear indication that he had, in fact, been on the wrong path. He threw a silent curse skywards and to whichever of the gods were no doubt having a good laugh at his expense.

"From the sounds of things you work with Sheriff Arbalest? The pair of you?" He stared down at the little pig when it had trundled up to the violet clad woman. "...oh, I apologise. The three of you?" He chuckled, a gentle smile already put back into place.

It was rather strange for the little pig to be wrapped up, but then again some of the other adventures he'd seen on his travels weren't any less strange at times. He supposed describing it as the pair working for the Sheriff was a bit generous, as the way the Violet clad one explained it sounded more like she owed the Sheriff a favour. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from tilting his head a little in some surprise when she had explained. That aside, if it were true that the Sheriff had sent some of his own from Darenby then maybe things are more dire around Avonshire than BlackBerry had first thought; he'd only been in Avonshire for roughly two days, but the innkeeper had warned him to be careful with people going missing lately. Although,

"You wouldn't perhaps know when the Sheriff might return, do you? It's rather important."

It was a (very) long shot he knew that but hoped this did not show on his face. But even if they said no he could either make his own way to Darenby and await Sheriff Arbalests return, however long that might take; or possibly even try to find his cousin instead, here in Avonshire. Had he heard something about Sheriff Albelast having a cousin? BlackBerry decided to mull over that tidbit of information later.

Right now however, Blackberry needed to focus.; his first priority was getting in contact with Sheriff Arbalest which the two women before him seemed to be his best so far. On a related note, it looked like they were in the middle of an important mission so he may as well lend a hand as best he could…they were after that young boy for some reason.

"Again I apologise for taking up your time. However, I do believe that I might be able to help you if you so need." Pulling himself under some cover out of the rain, BlackBerry began to scan over the heads of the crowd.

"I was just behind the man who laid those accusations against you when the child…" he rolled his hand trying to find the word, still snapping his eyes back and forth across the moving crowd. "changed just now, for lack of a better word. And I'm certain I heard someone say that they knew him. Unfortunately, I was somewhat distracted at the time but she had a pushcart with her, filled with vegetables or possibly fruit. With a bit of luck, she might know something."

He narrowed his eyes trying to see through the gaps in the crowd of people ducking their heads or pulling up hoods against the fat raindrops splashing all about them. There! Through a break in the crowd he caught sight of her as she paused for a moment to pull her own hood.

"Ah ha!" Jabbing out a finger, he cried. "Over there! I've spotted her by the baker's stall."

He stepped forward again with the intention to follow after the stocky woman if the other two chose to do so.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 03 HP: 24 / 24 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Township Thoroughfare Action: Arrival and Introductions Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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“Pardon me, sir. A moment of your time?”

“Sorry mate, ain’t got anything,”

“No I wasn’t go-oh, never mind.”

“Madam, sorry to bother you. Could I just ask…no? Oh okay, too busy. Very well.”

“Please may I jus-ah well, excuse me then!”

Around, and around, the blue dragonborn went through the streets and markets trying to ask for some help. Blackberry had thought at least one person would’ve been able to help him out. But frustratingly no such luck, even those kind enough to stop and listen hadn’t been much help.

He found a bit of wall to lean against in an attempt to take a bit of weight off his feet for a moment, and cast his eyes to the clouds above for a sign he was on the right track. After searching the blanket of clouds that hid the sun he pondered that maybe the overcast weather was in fact the sign he wasn’t on the right track…

“Best not to entertain such thoughts.” He told himself with a deep breath to pull himself back off the wall.

Pushing back into the roving crowd of harried parents, tourists, and locals, Blackberry hunted the crowd for a friendly looking face. Being roughly a head taller than most of the humans in Avonshire this wasn’t too difficult itself, but what was difficult was his original problem of getting anyone to even speak to him; tourists had no idea what he was on about, and locals wanted nothing to do with him thinking he was just another tourist.

Suddenly, there was a commotion somewhere behind him and his gaze followed the rest of the crowd around him that had come to a rumbling halt, to stare at what was happening in the centre of a growing hole in the mass of people. Standing only one person behind the commotion he had the perfect view to see a human woman decked in stunning chain armour with an iron grip on a child's arm who, from the sounds of it, had been caught spying. Possibly spying on the armoured woman?

The poor boy looked scared enough to die on the spot, and Blackberry tried to take a step forward to intervene. But then the boy changed; his eyes reddened, his teeth appeared to grow, and even his limbs appeared to change shape as well.

“By the gods!” His breath caught in his throat.

The crowd around him gasped in horror, and reeled back in fear and revulsion when the boy slipped out of the armoured womans grip and sprang across the ground, through the parting crowd. The boy was far too low for Blackberry to see where he went.

"What did you do to him?" A fearful cry.

The crowd shifted again to cast a furious gaze at the Armoured Woman, and Blackberry opened his mouth in an attempt to at least calm the people around him, but he needn’t have bothered as a woman he assumed to be an elf in a stunningly purple outfit arrived to defend the Armoured Woman (her companion?) and even quell the rising tension in the crowd with her words. From the sounds of it, she and the Armoured woman were working to help Avonshire and the offhand accusation from one of the townsfolk that they had done something had understandably been a bit much for her. Backberry wanted to step forward then, seeing the Elven woman cover her face to hold back a the tears.

"...Sherif Arbalest.."

Had his attention not already been hooked by the woman, her mentioning Sheriff Arbalest would have made Blackberry snap his gaze to her. Could it be? Could she know Sheriff Gregory Arbalest? Regardless, with the immediate worry of the crowd turning ugly now resolved he decided now was as good a time as any to get some answers.

He waited a few moments for the crowd to calm down a bit more before he stepped out and towards the pair. He kept his strides slow and steady to not upset his robes even as the wind around picked up for a moment. Blackberry knew his appearance could be a bit much for some so tried his best to look as non-threatening as possible; calm smile, warm eyes, low and gentle tone of voice, the works.

“Pardon me. May I trouble you for a moment? I do apologise, as I can see that you have more pressing matters but I really must ask.”

Blackberry tried to keep his smile calm and friendly but he was aware of the twinge of excitement slipping into his voice.

“You mentioned a ‘Sheriff Arbalest’. Would that perhaps be Sheriff Gregory Arbalest?; I’ve been asking around the town for him but, unfortunately, without any luck thus far.”

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

"Blackberry"

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Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah

Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), 3

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STR: 11(+0) DEX: 18 (+4) CON: 15 (+2) INT: 11 (+0) WIS: 15 (+2) CHA: 12 (+1)

HP MAX: 40 Armor Class: 16 Movement: 40 ft Spell DC: 13
Ki: 5

Alignment: LG Defenses: Lightning

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Full Character Sheet

Feats
Piercer
-> +1 Dex
-> Once per turn, when you hit a creature with an attack that deals piercing damage, you can re-roll one of the attack’s damage dice, and you must use the new roll.
-> When you score a critical hit that deals piercing damage to a creature, you can roll one additional damage die when determining the extra piercing damage the target takes.

Description

A somewhat battered looking dark blue dragon-born appears to be in his mid twenties, missing his right arm almost to the shoulder, and his right horn as well. Despite, or in spite of it, he holds himself tall. Calm blue eyes flick about himself almost constantly, betraying his otherwise slow movements and neutral smile.

Preferring to wear loose fitting wrap around of bright reds, oranges, and otherwise bright colours but will if needed change into more suitable clothing. However, he will always wear a large piece of cloth around his neck, at first glance it's just a scarf but when unfurled it's clearly a piece of a torn sail.

As expected, he carries what little he owns upon his back.

Personality

Blackberry is a very jovial and loud person who barely pays much thought to the words coming out of his mouth sometimes, but rarely does he mean anything insulting by his words and will quickly apologise if he does cross anyone. Despite his measured and slow movements, there is an anxious energy to him; he’s always wanting to be doing something, or looking at something, or even just moving about on the spot. Even his eyes seem incapable of staying still for long.

A terrible habit he’s formed since leaving his home is spending or giving away money nearly as quickly as he gets it, wanting to try out new things, foods, and drinks, or otherwise help out someone less fortunate than himself.

Sometimes though he goes very quiet and will stare off into the distance like he’s listening to something no one else can hear. It's mostly the sound of waves that sets this off.

Unfortunately as well he can be very blunt when it comes to someone else's loss of a loved one, or even a stranger dying as well. In his own words; “They're Dead, that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Backstory

His early years were pretty standard to begin with; born to the Roving Claw Caravan, his days were spent travelling near all year round with his family, and any number of others who would come and go on the routes with the seasons. As far as Baronfjørd can remember, his early years were of peace and simple joys. That is until one day, they took a different route one bitter and frigid winter, he doesn't know why they changed route as he was too young to remember anything in great detail apart from the fear in the voices of grownups and the driving the horses very quickly through several towns.

Their destination was a little port town, and it was the first time Baronfjørd ever saw a ship. But something was very wrong that day; the grownups were rushing about packing everything they could carry in their bags, people were crying either quietly or loudly, and strange people led the horses away. Baronfjørd remembers crying in his Mothers arms as she took him up and onto the ship, and watching the land behind them grow smaller in the distance until it vanished from sight with the sun shining brightly above them.

But something went terribly wrong. Something attacked the boat. Something big tore its hull apart. Something gazed into Baronfjørdas debris pulled him down into the depths. Something lodged in his mind.

The next thing Baronfjørd remembers is waking up in a not uncomfortable bed, in a not uncomfortable room, where a human man was taking care of him. The man, he later came to know as Brother Rorvil (The Infirmarer) explained that he had been found among the remains of driftwood on the beach below the Monastery, with a death grip on a bit of sail, and had been in their care for several days. Sadly, no other survivors turned up. After the storm Blackberry had been the only one to wash up, but while he had survived his right arm unfortunately had taken most of the damage and despite their efforts it couldn’t be saved.

“It was very ‘touch and go’ for a while there lad; we thought we nearly lost you at times.” - Brother Rorvil

The child didn’t speak, he didn’t say a single word. And this would go on for a long time. Unable to get any information out of him, even his name remained a mystery to them, there wasn’t anything for the monks of Hiltoszin Monastray could do. In her Great Generosity the Abotess Conall Mirastina decided that the child may as well stay with them as he was already acting as Brother Rorvils shadow; never straying far from the man throughout the day and sometimes trying to help out, even if he would often get in the way of things.

And so the simple days went on to simple weeks and then months, and the Child settled into Monastery life with the other children. Of course there were some problems; any sighting of ships out on the sea would send the poor Child into hysterics and Rorvil noticed that on exceptionally quiet days and the sound of the ocean could carry in through open windows would leave the poor Child still as a statue, staring blindly ahead. Brother Rorvil did his best to care for the child and found the child was apparently happiest with something to do.

One day, the Child was asked to help the cooks prepare for a luxurious feast they were to hold for a holiday with the neighbouring village Calabelle. With a few other children, he helped carry ingredients from the store rooms or packed away jars, bottles, and rolls into bags to keep them fresh. Of course, they were all happily rewarded for their hard work at the end of the day being allowed to help themselves to several treats. When Brother Rorvil arrived and asked what treats the children had.

With flakes of pastry down his robe, the Child cried out, “Blackberry!”, and wiped across his mouth making the smear of fruit jam that much worse.

The years passed on, and the nickname Blackberry stuck just like the sticky jam. Much of his life before the Monastery is now forgotten as he happily continued his days with religious study and prayer, and soon enough onto battle training as well. While his lacking limb did pose a bit of a boundary, no one could say Blackberries fighting abilities were anything less than superb, and he proved himself more than capable on a few occasions when the village Calabelle, called upon the Monastery for aid.

Finally. Terribly. A horrible storm battered the coast. Curling in on himself, Blackberry stared blindly ahead of himself, both in his bed and somewhere so very far away. He could hear something, something his ears swore they couldn't hear but his mind was certain it did; a horrid voice that called but the unholy din of the wind against rafters drowned out whatever it was saying. Someone crashed through the door, casting bright light onto him, shouting a boat had been spotted going under out at sea.

The beach was wreathing with activity when Blackberry had arrived, people with lanterns squirting out to sea through the torrential downpour. A flash of lighting illuminated a shape in the distance, a ship's mast snapping under the sharp wist of a writhing mass. Someone shouted towards it as the lightning fade and luckily a visiting adventure had enough magic might to pull the ship, magical light pulling the boat out from the darkness, and what remained of it onto the beach.Bodies were pulled out of it and hurried up to the Monastery but despite best efforts they didn’t survive, either passing that night or in the following days.

All perished, but one; Blackberry was there when the young dwarf awoke from her painful slumber, he was there as she, barely older than he had been, asked where she was and where her family had gone. He was there when she went very quiet, and he was there when she started to cry.

History likes to repeat itself. The child followed Blackberry as he went about his duties, and Melody became like his own shadow. He saw first hand how, despite how she appeared fine, the experience had left its wounds on her. Melody shared his own hatred of water, and she too descended into hysterics as he had done at the sight of a sailing boat on the horizon. During storms he would have to either pull himself out his own paralyzing panic to comfort her, or otherwise arrange one of his Brothers to do so.

He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.He hated it so much the burning rage set his very soul alight with fury.

Something had to be done, someone had to destroy that creature that had caused so much agony, not just to himself but to Melody, and Gods knew how many countless others. So with the Abottess’ blessing, and some generously donated supplies, he set off to do just that.

To begin with he had trawled the Monastery itself for any information of the beast but all he found were the few stories or diary entries from years so long, long ago. The same happened when he sought out the neighboring villages, and the sailors and fisherman at ports all gave a similar answer.

"Sorry lad." The man shrugged as he gutted the fish in his hands. "The Beast don't show up much. Last time before that girl showed up was when you did. An'before then was during my grannies time."

A few months, and a few small adventures keeping local monsters in check, and Blackberry is still no closer to his goal than when he first started.There was some hope though, where there was talk of a Beast attacking boats further along the shore and following those rumors led him through other Ports and seaside towns with their own tales of the wretched Beast, appearing suddenly and seemingly at random across the years to terrorized sailors on stormy nights, only to disappear without a trace. But Blackberry wasn't just after information about the BEast,; he was also after people who could help defeat through either means or funds, and while several names cropped up along his travels there was one in particular that had caught his attention...

Sheriff Gregory Arbalest, a man of some renown for his own adventures and service to his country during a War sometime in the past, and for his efforts he had been rewarded his retirement in Avonshire. The man had apparently spent some time seafaring and fighting pirates and monsters of his own! (or at least, that's what the people at the bar had said...)

Without another lead to go on, Blackberry set back out onto the road heading towards Avonshire looking for Sheriff Gregory Arbalest in the hopes for aid in his quest.

Bestiary

None. As cute as animals are, they're a pain to take care of.

Extras

Likes:
Jams of any and all kinds.

Dislikes:
Big bodies of water like lakes, wide rivers, and the ocean in general.

Other:
The Astral Arms he summons burn like fire without heat.
He settles into a boxer's stance, using his left arm to defend against incoming attacks, whilst using his Astral arms to land his own.

Another front line fighter and possibly tank plus a bit of lightning to shock the enemies with!

Edited: 23/07/2022 hopefully corrected the numbers
Edited: Added Mythweavers CS
Edited: 01/08/2022 updated History slightly
Edited: 07/04/2022 Updated Mythweavers CS and stat block for level 5

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Sigil Updated the CS with changes to the text colour to one that I don't think any of the active characters are using and added a bit more to the history to tie things together :)

As for equipment I think I'll keep it to the starting equipment for now, keeps things simple and I wouldn't class the small adventures he's been on as anything that would give any cool prizes really.

Let me know what you think when you can!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

Hiya! @Sigil

Yeah, the Astral self is in Tashas. It sounded pretty neat so thought I'd give it a go :)

I've edited my number, apologies I had a feeling they were a tad off.
So prior to racial modifiers they're sitting at...
Str: 9
Dex: 17
Con: 15
Int: 11
Wis: 15
Cha: 11
total: 78

then with the racial bonus the str +2 and ch +1 that bumps those up a tad.

I had gone for two stats above 15 before so I think that's where my math had gone a bit askew.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Sigil No worries!! righto heres my little character :D Any questions or needed changes feel free to give me a shout!

Just a note, I dont have Astral Self on dnd beyond so had to lob in way of the fist as a place holder, aand I think my math on the scores is correct?? But again if not I'll happily change it.

"Blackberry"

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Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah

Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), 300

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

STR: 11(+0) DEX: 17 (+3) CON: 15 (+2) INT: 11 (+0) WIS: 15 (+2) CHA: 12 (+1)

HP MAX: 24 Armor Class: 15 Movement: 40 ft Spell DC: N/A

Alignment: LG Defenses: Lightning

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Full Character Sheet

DND Beyond Character Sheet for reference. Missing Way of Astral Self

Description

A somewhat battered looking dark blue dragon-born appears to be in his mid twenties, missing his right arm almost to the shoulder, and his right horn as well. Despite, or in spite of it, he holds himself tall. Calm blue eyes flick about himself almost constantly, betraying his otherwise slow movements and neutral smile.

Preferring to wear loose fitting wrap around of bright reds, oranges, and otherwise bright colours but will if needed change into more suitable clothing. However, he will always wear a large piece of cloth around his neck, at first glance it's just a scarf but when unfurled it's clearly a piece of a torn sail.

As expected, he carries what little he owns upon his back.

Personality

Blackberry is a very jovial and loud person who barely pays much thought to the words coming out of his mouth sometimes, but rarely does he mean anything insulting by his words and will quickly apologise if he does cross anyone. Despite his measured and slow movements, there is an anxious energy to him; he’s always wanting to be doing something, or looking at something, or even just moving about on the spot. Even his eyes seem incapable of staying still for long.

A terrible habit he’s formed since leaving his home is spending or giving away money nearly as quickly as he gets it, wanting to try out new things, foods, and drinks, or otherwise help out someone less fortunate than himself.

Sometimes though he goes very quiet and will stare off into the distance like he’s listening to something no one else can hear. It's mostly the sound of waves that sets this off.

Unfortunately as well he can be very blunt when it comes to someone else's loss of a loved one, or even a stranger dying as well. In his own words; “They're Dead, that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Backstory

His early years were pretty standard to begin with; born to the Roving Claw Caravan, his days were spent travelling near all year round with his family, and any number of others who would come and go on the routes with the seasons. As far as Baronfjørd can remember, his early years were of peace and simple joys. That is until one day, they took a different route one bitter and frigid winter, he doesn't know why they changed route as he was too young to remember anything in great detail apart from the fear in the voices of grownups and the driving the horses very quickly through several towns.

Their destination was a little port town, and it was the first time Baronfjørd ever saw a ship. But something was very wrong that day; the grownups were rushing about packing everything they could carry in their bags, people were crying either quietly or loudly, and strange people led the horses away. Baronfjørd remembers crying in his Mothers arms as she took him up and onto the ship, and watching the land behind them grow smaller in the distance until it vanished from sight with the sun shining brightly above them.

But something went terribly wrong. Something attacked the boat. Something big tore its hull apart. Something gazed into Baronfjørdas debris pulled him down into the depths. Something lodged in his mind.

The next thing Baronfjørd remembers is waking up in a not uncomfortable bed, in a not uncomfortable room, where a human man was taking care of him. The man, he later came to know as Brother Rorvil (The Infirmarer) explained that he had been found among the remains of driftwood on the beach below the Monastery, with a death grip on a bit of sail, and had been in their care for several days. Sadly, no other survivors turned up. After the storm Blackberry had been the only one to wash up, but while he had survived his right arm unfortunately had taken most of the damage and despite their efforts it couldn’t be saved.

“It was very ‘touch and go’ for a while there lad; we thought we nearly lost you at times.” - Brother Rorvil

The child didn’t speak, he didn’t say a single word. And this would go on for a long time. Unable to get any information out of him, even his name remained a mystery to them, there wasn’t anything for the monks of Hiltoszin Monastray could do. In her Great Generosity the Abotess Conall Mirastina decided that the child may as well stay with them as he was already acting as Brother Rorvils shadow; never straying far from the man throughout the day and sometimes trying to help out, even if he would often get in the way of things.

And so the simple days went on to simple weeks and then months, and the Child settled into Monastery life with the other children. Of course there were some problems; any sighting of ships out on the sea would send the poor Child into hysterics and Rorvil noticed that on exceptionally quiet days and the sound of the ocean could carry in through open windows would leave the poor Child still as a statue, staring blindly ahead. Brother Rorvil did his best to care for the child and found the child was apparently happiest with something to do.

One day, the Child was asked to help the cooks prepare for a luxurious feast they were to hold for a holiday with the neighbouring village Calabelle. With a few other children, he helped carry ingredients from the store rooms or packed away jars, bottles, and rolls into bags to keep them fresh. Of course, they were all happily rewarded for their hard work at the end of the day being allowed to help themselves to several treats. When Brother Rorvil arrived and asked what treats the children had.

With flakes of pastry down his robe, the Child cried out, “Blackberry!”, and wiped across his mouth making the smear of fruit jam that much worse.

The years passed on, and the nickname Blackberry stuck just like the sticky jam. Much of his life before the Monastery is now forgotten as he happily continued his days with religious study and prayer, and soon enough onto battle training as well. While his lacking limb did pose a bit of a boundary, no one could say Blackberries fighting abilities were anything less than superb, and he proved himself more than capable on a few occasions when the village Calabelle, called upon the Monastery for aid.

Finally. Terribly. A horrible storm battered the coast. Curling in on himself, Blackberry stared blindly ahead of himself, both in his bed and somewhere so very far away. He could hear something, something his ears swore they couldn't hear but his mind was certain it did; a horrid voice that called but the unholy din of the wind against rafters drowned out whatever it was saying. Someone crashed through the door, casting bright light onto him, shouting a boat had been spotted going under out at sea.

The beach was wreathing with activity when Blackberry had arrived, people with lanterns squirting out to sea through the torrential downpour. A flash of lighting illuminated a shape in the distance, a ship's mast snapping under the sharp wist of a writhing mass. Someone shouted towards it as the lightning fade and luckily a visiting adventure had enough magic might to pull the ship, magical light pulling the boat out from the darkness, and what remained of it onto the beach.Bodies were pulled out of it and hurried up to the Monastery but despite best efforts they didn’t survive, either passing that night or in the following days.

All perished, but one; Blackberry was there when the young dwarf awoke from her painful slumber, he was there as she, barely older than he had been, asked where she was and where her family had gone. He was there when she went very quiet, and he was there when she started to cry.

History likes to repeat itself. The child followed Blackberry as he went about his duties, and Melody became like his own shadow. He saw first hand how, despite how she appeared fine, the experience had left its wounds on her. Melody shared his own hatred of water, and she too descended into hysterics as he had done at the sight of a sailing boat on the horizon. During storms he would have to either pull himself out his own paralyzing panic to comfort her, or otherwise arrange one of his Brothers to do so.

He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.He hated it so much the burning rage set his very soul alight with fury.

Something had to be done, someone had to destroy that creature that had caused so much agony, not just to himself but to Melody, and Gods knew how many countless others. So with the Abottess’ blessing, and some generously donated supplies, he set off to do just that.

To begin with he had trawled the Monastery itself for any information of the beast but all he found were the few stories or diary entries from years so long, long ago. The same happened when he sought out the neighboring villages, and the sailors and fisherman at ports all gave a similar answer.

"Sorry lad." The man shrugged as he gutted the fish in his hands. "The Beast don't show up much. Last time before that girl showed up was when you did. An'before then was during my grannies time."

A few months, and a few small adventures keeping local monsters in check, and Blackberry is still no closer to his goal than when he first started.There was some hope though, where there was talk of a Beast attacking boats further along the shore and following those rumors led him through other Ports and seaside towns with their own tales of the wretched Beast, appearing suddenly and seemingly at random across the years to terrorized sailors on stormy nights, only to disappear without a trace. But Blackberry wasn't just after information about the BEast,; he was also after people who could help defeat through either means or funds, and while several names cropped up along his travels there was one in particular that had caught his attention...

Sheriff Gregory Arbalest, a man of some renown for his own adventures and service to his country during a War sometime in the past, and for his efforts he had been rewarded his retirement in Avonshire. The man had apparently spent some time seafaring and fighting pirates and monsters of his own! (or at least, that's what the people at the bar had said...)

Without another lead to go on, Blackberry set back out onto the road heading towards Avonshire looking for Sheriff Gregory Arbalest in the hopes for aid in his quest.

Bestiary

None. As cute as animals are, they're a pain to take care of.

Extras

Likes:
Jams of any and all kinds.

Dislikes:
Big bodies of water like lakes, wide rivers, and the ocean in general.

Other:
The Astral Arms he summons burn like fire without heat.
He settles into a boxer's stance, using his left arm to defend against incoming attacks, whilst using his Astral arms to land his own.

Another front line fighter and possibly tank plus a bit of lightning to shock the enemies with!

Edited: 23/07/2022 hopefully corrected the numbers
Edited: Added Mythweavers CS
Edited: 01/08/2022 updated History slightly

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

Hi hi hi! This looks like a nice and neat rp. Have you guys got room for another player?

And if so, I'm guessing you're after another front liner in fights?? :p

Forsaken

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Drops of Rain

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“Of course, Miss. Ain’t no bother at all.” He shrugged and smiled. “I’ll warn ya; it’s a cargo wagon so if you’re riding in back best bring a blanket or something.”

“We could maybe fit one or two more depending on how much you’re bringing. Right?”
He aimed the question at Thunder to double check.

“But we can discuss that after you’ve seen the wagon of course. I dont make no deals without letting a customer see what they’re buying.”

The sofa squeaked again when he rose and stretched out his legs.

“If it’s alright with you Mr. Garrick, I’ll head over to the stables now to check in on the live stock and Delilah as well.”
“An’ you’re welcome to join me, Miss. If you wanted to. Same goes for anyone else looking to hitch a ride.”

He too lined up with the others heading out of the office. From the sounds of it most were looking to head out until dinner to make some extra preparations. Rain supposed he should be doing the same thing but having never seen a Hippogriff in the flesh, let alone a Phoenix, he couldn’t wait to see them.

Cash. Gold. Money. Moolah. Dosh. Dough.

It clinked and jingled merrily in the bag Mr. Garrick handed him with little more importance than a parent handing lunch to their child.

Rain picked up the little bag with a thank you and a nod, just as his mother raised him, and was almost startled with how light it was. But be kept his composure until he had left the room before quickly opening the little bag.

Inside he found a surprisingly small amount of actual coinage; a healthy mix of copper, silver, gold, and even (stars above) platinum. But it was the bars which confused him. Walking down the stairs he examined one which looked to be made of gold with a number beneath an insignia.

“A Trade Bar?” Rain commented either to himself or anyone else nearby.

Rain followed the thankfully simple instructions to the stables the butler gave him.

“Out the door and follow the pathway to your right from the driveway. Just follow it around and the stable buildings will be at the end of the pathway on the left.” He had said with much less snark than before. “I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”

The path he followed was much like the one at the front of the estate; made of pink gravel bleached almost white from the sun and lined with pots, shrubbery, and all sorts of lovely delights to the senses. It was wide enough to comfortably fit two wagons. Not too far away he could see the hedgerows and bushes of the garden directly behind the house as he passed by, chopped and shaped into beautiful sculptures and animals and all looking as neat as a pin. But as he moved away from the path the house the path became more and more made of dirt rather than gravel, and whatever pots were still standing were either empty or just filled with barren dirt. Even the grass looked less lush going from a beautiful green to a baked yellow.

Back here it was clear there was no time or care for fancy flowers or well-trimmed grass, so long as everything worked and wasn’t about to break it could look as it liked. That and it was just out of view of the estate and any fancy visitors.
This was much more Rains style.

Rain could smell the stables before he saw them and were just where the Butler had said they’d be. Attached to a field ringed by a wooden field sat a cluster of buildings sitting low, surrounding a courtyard in a frenzy of activity. People ran to-and-fro carrying bags, boxes, and all other manner of supplies at such dizzying speeds it made Rains head spin. And at the centre of it all, atop a stack of create, stood a dwarf shouting at and over the top of people who would run up to him and promptly sent off in another direction. Rain waited for a quiet moment before he approached to introduce himself.

“Aye. Was told you’d turn up. Got your horse and wagon out back, and the Hippogriffs in the barn. Jerem.” A young lad nearby jumped to attention when the dwarf called. “This is the gentleman who owns the old mare, and wants to check over the Hippogriffs. Take care of him and keep him out the way.”

Rain had no idea how the butler got the message over so fast. As Rain was lead away by the lad he swore the dwarf shouted something about a dragon.

The first stop was Delilah. The old girl had been tucked away into a clean and cosy stall. Rain was happy to see she had had her harness removed and hung up on the opposite wall and looked to have been given a very quick groom. The greying mare let Rain say hello and fuss over her for a few minutes before she went back to the tasty bag of oats she’d been given. She gave any visitors a courteous sniff looking for treats and maybe a little pat on the nose.

The second, was the old wagon. It had been parked just outside the stable building Delilah was in, in a quite spot out the way. While Rain had mostly gone to check over his and Thunders belongings, he would also show off the wagon to anyone who had wanted to check it out. It was a small cart, there was no denying it, designed to be pulled by a single horse, but even so it was as wide as three human men and twice as long. It looked sturdy and well used but the worn side panels and mismatched spokes on the high thing wheels showed its age. But even so, the little cart could hold either the party’s belongings or two extra passengers, so four in total with two sitting on the front bench.

Finally. The Hippogriffs. The Barn was the largest building also the busiest. Inside Rain counted all 40 of the Hippogriffs they’d be transporting, along with a few other animals just as rare, each in their own separate paddocks into four lines of ten. A few of the hippogriffs stood in the corridors between the paddocks tied to the posts and Rain could see a few farm hands clearing out a few of the paddocks or tending to the animals inside. He couldn’t see the Pheonix anywhere though so assumed it was being kept somewhere else.

Rain asked to see the Handlers hoping they’d be around for him to ask some questions.
Namely, what do they eat? Any care routines? Temperaments? General plans to move them? And, if he would be allowed to speak to them…

Forsaken

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Drops of Rain

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It was nice to just let Thunder do the talking, and Rain inwardly chuckled at his brothers’ words of the uppity rich douchebags. Seeing an upper-class rich lad try and do anything on the farm would be a sight to behold.

Rain followed his brother’s advice and found himself a spot on one of the sofas. Oddly enough the closest one nearby was with the Orc. The stiff, cold leather squeaked when he sat down, and he got a whiff of age and polish from the deep green leather.

He gave a polite nod up at the Orc and he nodded as well when the Goliath arrived. The elf though, Valanthe, demanded attention when she danced into the study and promptly began pestering Cinder.

Definitely some history there. Rain wagered.
But by the gods, if the Elf woman didn’t look finer than all the stars on a calm clear night.

This group was shaping up to be a mix of all sorts which suited Rain just fine but it was a bit odd to hear the Orc speak a different language. Admittedly Rain was relieved when the Orc started speaking common to ask questions, having no idea what he had said just before.

Rain listened hard as the others asked Mr Garrick, a rather prim and proper looking old human, their own questions. Mr Garrick himself seemed like a good sort to Rain, as he answered everyone’s questions calmly and fully.

The answers he gave to the Orc didn’t exactly fill Rain with any amount of confidence; the way Mr Garrick was making sound was as if it was a big undercover operation with danger at every turn, but the Orc kept a level head which Rain could appreciate. It never did any good to get ahead of one-self and worry.

Two expert Handlers would be focussing on the animals, and Rain supposed he would be partnered with them.

He chewed on his cheek as he thought.

The questions from Defiance were very good and Rain couldn’t help nodding along trying to keep the answers locked away in his mind. The journey sounded straight forward on paper and Mr Garrick was being generous enough to give them some pay beforehand. Rain decided he’d try and give it a look over later, having absolutely no idea where anything was past the plains of Forsaken it wouldn’t do much good for him to have the map.

“Mr Garrick. Sir.” Rain held up a hand and waited before he continued. “My Brother and I brought our own horse and wagon if needed; Delilah may be old, but she can keep a good pace and works just as hard as any horse half her age.”

"As long as your horse can keep up with the rest, then I don't see an issue with you bringing your own wagon. Might be useful for some extra supplies if y'all are willing."

“Yes, of course, Sir. She won’t let you down. We ain’t got much but we’re all working together so.” Rain shrugged, indicating that whatever they had they’d share. Already bracing for Thunder to butt in.

That made things a lot easier, he wouldn’t have to drive her all the way back to the farm and then find another way back again. Hopefully Mr. Garrick would give them a bit of time before leaving to get a few more bits and pieces.

“May I also ask about the condition of the animals, Sir? If we’re looking after them I’d like to see how they’re being prepared for the journey and know how to handle them.”

And see if you’re treating them right. He thought darkly to himself. Seen too many beasts treated like nothing.

Rain couldn’t help but frown heavily as he pictured the scenes in his head; A crocodile with its teeth removed, A several dire wolf pups in stacked in cages far too small, a baboon with its hands cut off, and a whole host of other rare creatures in horrid conditions.

Mr. Garrick nodded at his next question. "I'd be more than happy to have one of our hands take you down to the enclosure they're in so you can have a look at how they're cared for and learn some of the ropes."

Rain nodded with approval knowing that at the very least Mr Garrick wasn’t trying to hide anything, but then again, they would be seeing the creatures anyway so wasn’t as if Mr Garrick could hide any wrong-doing for long.

“And also, meet the others we’re travelling with?”

"I want to get the pressing questions our of the way first, but as soon as everyone is satisfied with their answers I had intended on having you all introduce yourselves. On that note I'd like to invite all of you to dine with me this evening, if you're so inclined. It would be a good opportunity for us all to become better acquainted with each other."

Rains ears perked at the mention of food. After seeing the fancy furnishings around the study and the rest of the mansion he had glimpsed on his way in Rain could only imagine the sort of food that would be on offer.

Rain simply nodded politely and shot Thunder a coded look with raised eyebrows.

Free food at a fancy man’s house, can’t complain about that!

Forsaken

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Drops of Rain

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Drops of Rain had tried to convince his Ma that they wouldn’t need the cart as their employer, Mr Garrick, would have some of his own. But she wouldn’t hear any of it.

“It’s a long way to that side of Forsaken. Even by horse and going around it’ll take you most of the day, and I know you boys won’t want to lug all your things for that long.” She had said whilst preparing Delilah that morning. “Besides, Delilah could do with a nice holiday. Isn’t that right my dear?”

And that had been it that morning. Their bags slung into the back of the wagon they had set off at the crack of dawn t join the rest of the traffic towards Forsaken, before turning off on one of the smaller roads which wound their way through the hamlets surrounding the city like stragglers in a crowd.

“So, do you know anything about this guy?” Drops of Rain asked, only turning his head towards his brother whilst keeping his eyes on the horse, Delilah. “I think Da mentioned something about him.”

Even in the afternoon sun the white walls of the Garrick Estate were bright enough to make Rains eyes hurt. The golden gates amidst the surprisingly clean white walls looked almost comically out of place in the dusty outback and plains that surrounded Forsaken.

He brought Delilah to a gentle stop before the gate and the horse snorted in equal displeasure at the wall’s brightness. Delilah was just as plain but functional, and possibly just as old, as the four wheeled, open wagon she pulled. They didn’t have to wait long before Rain saw someone walking somewhat briskly up the path towards them.

The half elf was dressed simply but the closer he got Rain took notice of how fine his clothing was. The black colour of his jacket and trousers where uniform and neat without a crease out of place or spec of dirt on his shoes.

They hadn’t even set foot in the estate and already Rain felt very out of place. He was wearing his finest clothes to make a good first impression, but they were just as worn and simple as everything else he had so try as he might Rain couldn’t push down the horrible knot of unease now nestled between his heart and stomach.

“Yes? May I help you gentleman at all?” The butlers’ grey eyes washed over them with a sneer.

Rain clenched his jaw and sat up straighter in his seat. While he would let Thunder deal with the butler Rain would e shooting his own condescending glare right back at the man. As far as he was concerned the guy was a stuck-up snob.

"What an absolute arsehole." He thought along with several other words.

Rain would let Thunder deal with the butler so he could focus on keeping Delilah in check as they were lead down the path. When the golden gates were swung open Rain clicked his tongue twice to let Delilah know she could walk on.

“Wow.” Rain breathed.

Trees lined the path on both sides were tall, strong and reached towards each other, so their branches met neatly in the middle in a crisscross pattern to shield anyone on the path from the worst of the suns blasting heat, but still let in enough light to cover them in splotches of light. It took the change in tone of Delilah’s hoof-steps for Rain to notice the path had changed from the serviceable compacted dirt and stone to gravel of the lightest shade of pink.

Everything was perfect. Everything was in place; the grass was a delightful shade of green, the workers tending the animals and land were far enough to be seen but not heard, and the flowerpots on either side of the driveway scented the air just enough to be noticed but not to overstay their welcome.

If Rain didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he had died and gone to heaven. It was beautiful. It was disgusting. He clenched his jaw, gripped the reins harder and tried to shove down his embarrassment.

When they arrived at the front door Rain grabbed his own bag from the wagon and a young lad took Delilah and the wagon off elsewhere.
Rain took off his hat as they were led into the foyer and his ears, angle to the back somewhat, betrayed his nerves. He stuck close to Thunder hoping his older brother would take the lead.

The house was much colder than outside and held a distinctly bitter smell of polish. From the dark wood floors, the rugs, the brick-a-brack and more were all placed and aligned perfectly with each other to be just within reach should they be needed but just out of sight to be ignored when not. Even though there wasn’t a spec of dust Rain wondered if anything here had ever been held or even used.

Step. Clunk. Step. Clunk. Step. Clunk.

His prosthetic echoed against the steps and Rain could feel the eyes of the paintings glaring down at him. How dare someone as lowly as he be in their presence? How dare this ruffian dirty their home?

Rain reminded himself that he had been invited by name.

When the butler opened the door to the study Rain was surprised of the weight that lifted when he saw that other people had arrived before them.

"Well, at least we’re not gonna get killed off in a basement." He thought.

But even in here everything was suffocatingly fancy and neat. He hated the horrid knot it made in his stomach gazing at all the booked and nick-nacks dotting the pristine walls.

“Hello.” Rain tried to keep the drawl out of his voice. “You all here for the job?”

Try as he might Rain couldn’t help but stare at the other people in the room; one a dark-skinned human looking woman with hair that looked too much like fire, an Orc in strange but deadly looking armour, and a violently red Tiefling with an odd-looking sword. And all of them armed to the teeth and looking like they’d kill in a heartbeat.