Myth Weavers is pleased to announce the Dungeons & Dragons Create a Villain Contest! Members may create a villain using any edition of the Dungeons & Dragons rules, and the final entries will be voted on by the community.
First place wins a new copy of the Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition Players Handbook!
The contest runs from July 1 to July 31, and voting will then run from August 1 through August 7. The winner will be announced on August 8 and contacted via PM. Contest details and directions may be found HERE!
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Rhionda leaves the out numbered goblin in the hands of the two men and takes a look around. Near at hand, the boxing champs and their immediate crew are making short work of any serious threat to the crowd. It looks like there are a few slashed festival goers, but for the most part things are in control. No one looks to be in danger of bleeding to death and all the goblins are either dead or about to be, much like the one she just turned her back on.
At the north end, the gamblers are faring as well or better. Thrown knives or the armed bouncers hired by the Hagfish to keep peace when gambler tempers begin to flare have cut down the goblin attackers. Things just might be almost settled. The cleric turns back to see how her companions are faring.
She looks back just in time to see Milo curse the goblin and cut him down on top of the decapitated guardsman's corpse. Renkar whips out his dagger, but it seems to catch on something along the sheath and he nearly drops his weapon.
Cheers begin erupting from various points around the crowd. Folks who moments before were about to come to blows over who might win the boxing match are clapping one another on the back in congratulations. It looks like people are safe for the moment.
Milo pants and wildly spins around, bloody dagger in hand, looking for any more goblins with fight in them. Finding none, he bends over and cuts the disemboweled goblin giggler's throat, snarling, "First installment in payback for Jorge, you bastard."
Rising, he exclaims, "This doesn't make sense! Goblins NEVER attack this way. Three of them jumping a grown man like Jorge?"
"This was an invasion. But no single goblin tribe is big enough to do all this. And I ne'er heard of them banding together."
Milo gazes down queasily at Jorge's head and makes himself pick it up and put it properly against the dead man's neck hole. He doesn't notice that tears are streaking down his bloody cheeks.
Renkar finds a moment of peace to organize his thoughts (Gain focus) and the crowd subsides from their cheering to take stock of the situation. Milo will find that Rhionda (tho I do not think you have exchanged names yet) is right; the danger has not yet passed. There is still the sounds of chaos in town, cries of alarm, the flicking light of fires burning, and everywhere the sound of dogs barking. Most of the festival goers at the dockside mill about in confusion for a moment.
"Hey. Ask the guardsman." A voice says.
People turn to Milo, who notices that in the confusion he had stuffed Jorge's armband in his belt, so it hangs rather like a favor. The only visible object of Sandpoint Authority, Milo quickly becomes the center of attention.
"The town is under attack." A fisherman asks Milo. "What should we do?"
Milo looks down at his belt. He had completely forgotten he was bearing an armband due to the shock of Jorge's murder and the desperate fight with the goblins.
Milo puts the armband on self-consciously, then he raises his voice. "What should we do?"
"Able-bodied men and women of Sandpoint! Visitors and travelers! Arm yourselves! Form groups of three to five, grab every weapon you can, and every dog, and drive the goblin enemy from our home! Put out the fires! But no looting and no thieving!"
"Let's save our fellow citizens and guests and chase the stinking goblins out of our town!"
Milo says to Renkar and Rhionda, "I live near here. I'm gonna put on my armor and weapons."
Milo's speach galvanizes the roustabouts and roughnecks along the docks. People begin moving with purpose, picking up fishing gaffs and belaying pins of no weapons are close enough. Das Korvut, who may have a reputation as the crankiest man in town but has never been slow of wit, grabs some of the younger men and women and starts to organize a bucket brigade. The smell of smoke is heavy in the air, and fires unchecked will certainly cause more damage than the insanely brave goblins.
"He's nobody important." A voice of dissent arises, giving some people pause. "That's just Milo. Only reason he's on the milita was to keep out of jail."
Milo recognizes Whill Sankton, a local bully and associate of the Sczarni. He is a regular at the Fatman's Feedbag and he looks ready to challenge Milo, likely for the sheer belligerence of it. Several other local rogues stop what they are doing and watch. But short on the heels of the declaration a smallish man slips out of the crowd and slaps Whill on the back of the head.
"Keeping out of jail, means he's a damn sight smarter than you." Though half the size of some of the thugs near at hand,
Couldn't really think of a non-invasive way to do this well so I'm just going to do it like this.
The Dark Stranger : Shortish for a human but of average height for the Varisian Gypsies, he has their features as if he stepped out of a campfire story about Gypsies. Raven black hair, devilish smile, a hint of wickedness in the way he says something, even if it is as simple as "hello" that tempts you to join him in the fun. His goatee is a bit unkempt but otherwise he is smartly dressed in blacks and greys with a long leather coat. A variety of knives are easily seen about him but nothing more deadly looking than daggers.
this man obviously commands their respect. They all jump smartly to their tasks.
"Pardon the interruption, Milo. You know Whill hasn't got the sense the gods gave to mice." The man is dark featured and has a devilish air that makes you want to like him, even as it warns you he is nothing but trouble. He gives Rhionda an appreciative glance and adds. "Introduce me to your friend?"