Chapter 1: A Grey Beginning (Group 2)

Anthr4xus · October 27, 2023

The beds of the Wightwatcher and the impact of your drinks helped pull you into a deeper and more restful sleep than you remember. Your dreams are of quiet and peaceful times, happy memories (however sparse they may be), and comforting, secure places.

Turning slightly in your sleep, your dreams begin to shift. Dark clouds and ominous weather seems to swell up in your dreams. Drops of water or blood begin to cascade down. It is with some confusion and disorientation that you realize the wetness you feel is not happening only in your dreams. Bleary eyed, you awaken to look around. The Wightwatcher Inn, as well as most of the interesting characters that you had just met the night before, had vanished. Whether the Mists had moved you from within it, or taken the Inn and left you behind is up for debate.

Your equipment lays scattered around you, having been similarly transposed to the mossy, mist shrouded field that you now find yourself in. A drizzle of chill rain falls all around, seeming to be slowly awakening itself, slowly building in rapidity and ferocity, tearing through and evaporating low mist as you watch. It is a quick count to realize that of the more than a dozen people at the inn last night, only a few are still here. You appear to be in a large clearing, edged by thick trees on three sides and a wood-paved road on the fourth. The road seems to run mostly north and south, although it is obvious that no one has replaced the paving on this road in quite some time. Thick gray clouds hang low in the sky, and the rain continues to build, but unaccompanied by thunder or lightning.

OOC

Welcome to another morning in Falkovnia! As you orient yourself and gather your belongings. Go ahead and give me a Wis (Perception) check to see if you can pick up any additional details. If you would like to search the area, you can also give me an Int (Investigation) check, or you could Help someone else doing so.

If there are other skills or spells you would like to utilize, feel free to do so and make whatever rolls are appropriate for it.

jrsey · October 28, 2023

Tysh Mountainheart

Hill Dwarf Acolyte Twilight Cleric

AC: 18 (Heavy Armor & Shield) | HP: 12/12 (1d8+3+1) | Speed: 25 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 15, Investigation 11
Str: 12 (+1) | Dex: 11 (+0) | Con: 16 (+3) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 16 (+3) | Cha: 12 (+1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Dwarvish, Elvish, and Celestial

Tysh sits at the bench table in her childhood home's kitchen, legs swinging freely. Family surrounds her, but she is small, so she only sees shoulders and stomachs beside her. Her mother sits opposite her, carving up her famous buffaloaf - Tysh's favorite - and serving it to their guests. It's Highharvestide and even though they spent all day eating, her mother has served up yet another round of tantalizing foods. Dishes of hard boiled goose eggs, honeyed corn, seasoned greens, and fresh baked brown bread spread across the table: a humble feast for a humble family.

Someone tells a joke and the table erupts in laughter. Tysh has no idea what's so funny, but she smiles and laughs along, just happy to be with them. The laughter begins to warp, pitching high, then low. Something drops on her cheek, then on the top of her head. She wipes her cheek and pulls her hand away to inspect it.

Blood.

The laughter takes on a dark, hoarse timbre. Tysh reflexively tries to cover her head as the blood rain increases, pelting her relentlessly. Her heart pounds in her ears. She looks across to her mother, hoping for some explanation, only to see her face caved in and melting. Tysh's breath hitches in her throat. She watches as the rest of her mother and the family members at the table begin to melt, globs of face and hair and ears and arms tumbling down their bodies and across the table. She freezes for only a moment before a scream rips from her throat and --

Tysh sits bolt upright, chest tight and heart racing. Before noticing anything else, she feels wetness. Panicked, breathing hard, she wipes her cheeks hard with both hands and looks.

Rain. Just rain.

A nightmare.

She sighs and lays her head in her hands, forcing her breathing to slow. It takes a few moments for the nightmare to fade and reality to come to the forefront of her awareness. When it does, she lifts her head and looks around. She is in a small clearing, her possessions scattered, with other sleeping forms.

"The girls," she whispers to herself. She stands quickly and looks around, but the girls are nowhere to be seen. The world is quiet. The Mists are retreating. There is only rain and gloom.

"Was it a dream?" she thinks to herself. "I swear -"

She pauses. The sleeping form of the black-clad woman from the bar last night, the one who offered her a drink, lays a mere 5 yards away. Tysh hurries to her side. The woman seems to be sleeping peacefully.

"Wake up, my friend," she urges, looking around to see if she recognizes the other sleeping forms. There, another 10 yards away, sleeps Ardir. Five yards or so in the other direction is another of the men at the bar last night, although she doesn't know his name. She returns her attention to the young woman and shakes her a little harder.

She shouts, "Wake up!" and hopes the others will hear her.

Edited October 28, 2023 by jrsey
Dice roll and edit of last line. (see edit history)

voodoozombie · October 28, 2023

Raven

Human Shadow Sorcerer, Haunted Spirit Medium

AC: 12/15 (Mage Armor) | HP: 8/8 (1d6+2) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 11, Investigation 10
Str: 10 (-0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 17 (+3)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Elvish, Abyssal, Undercommon

| |

Dark clouds were above Raven, low hanging and swirling around like some kind of pin wheel spinning in slow motion. The mist surrounding her was thick and it was dark all around her, yet she could see through it all like it wasn't there, but she couldn't make out the shadow figure standing in front of her. Mesmerizing music was playing in the background, but Raven couldn't make out where it was coming from or what kind of interments were being played as a wave of euphoria washed over her. Raven's right hand was resting on the shadow figure's shoulder while its arm was holding her waist. Their free hands were joined while the both of them swayed back and forth with the rhythm of the music. As the dark clouds above became more ominous, blood started to rain down on them. Both figures begin to circle around each other moving about the mist and the blood rain, in an eloquent yet terrifying Danse MacabreDance of Death .

"Wake up my friend."

At first the voice seemed distance, like it's part of the dream Raven was having.

Dream? Since being in the mist, she hardily dreamed, or at least she can't remember if she did or not. But she remembered this one.

"Wake up! Wake up!."

But the voice was familiar was now coming loud and clear. It wasn't part of her dream. And now she feels like someone is shaking her.

Raven opens her eyes and looks up towards the sky. It was raining....water....not blood. She feels her left hand. The ring was still there. She feels a small leather pouch that was hanging on her waist belt. The cards were still there. She lets out a loud sigh and sits up, looking around. Everything was gone, the Inn and most of the people that were in it, except for a few that were scattered around the ground. She looks at the Hill Dwarf that's standing beside her. She was the one from the bar that didn't accept her drink. It was her that was telling Raven to wake up and was shaking her to get her moving.

Raven slowly stands to her feet, still looking around, puzzled at what she was looking at. But the cold rain was coming down hard and several people were still sleeping. She turns towards the Hill Dwarf and nods her head in a thank you gestuer.

"We need to wake everyone up and find shelter. Figure out what's going on later."

She points towards the sleeping group.

"You take half and I take the other half?"

Edited October 28, 2023 by voodoozombie (see edit history)

jrsey · October 28, 2023

Tysh Mountainheart

Hill Dwarf Acolyte Twilight Cleric

AC: 18 (Heavy Armor & Shield) | HP: 12/12 (1d8+3+1) | Speed: 25 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 15, Investigation 11
Str: 12 (+1) | Dex: 11 (+0) | Con: 16 (+3) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 16 (+3) | Cha: 12 (+1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Dwarvish, Elvish, and Celestial

The moment that the young woman awakens, Tysh is on her feet again. She nods at the woman's proposal, then darts off towards where Ardir lies. She picks up her armor, shield, and warhammer on the way. She's still missing a few things, but at least she has the essentials. Tysh drops the items on the ground when she reaches Ardir and kneels down beside him. He, too, appears uninjured - just deeply asleep.

"Ardir," she says. She shakes his arm a bit roughly and glances around nervously. Gear is strewn everywhere, but there is still no sign of life - or undeath - outside of them. "Ardir, wake up."

Anthr4xus · October 28, 2023

Tysh's focus was mainly on the bodies scattered about the clearing, so she did not notice much of the surroundings other than her highest priorities. She noticed that it was relatively quiet, but for the noise of the rain among the leaves and needles of the trees.

Raven however, seemed to notice everything Tysh missed. The trees were tall and dense, an old, old forest, turning with the seasons. There was a mix of conifer and deciduous trees, although there was a particularly notable and prolific species of ash tree whose small leaves were the very shades of fire within a bonfire or torch. It made it look almost like the forest was burning, with mist replacing the smoke and the crackle of flames replaced with the rushing sussurration of the rain among the branches. Particularly with the rain stirring the leaves, the illusion of flame among the branches was nearly magical in effect. The air was rich with the smell of pine and loam, a faint hint of petrichor as the dry ground began to saturate in the rain. Far in the distance to the south, she can hear a faint irrythmic popping sound, seeming to echo through the boughs of the forest.

Edited October 29, 2023 by Anthr4xus (see edit history)

FelixFaust · October 29, 2023

Kain Dorset

Noble Knight

AC: 19 (Chain & Shield) | HP: 13/13 (1d10+3) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 12, Investigation 12

Proficient Skills: Athletics (+6), Perception (+4), Survival (+4), History (+4), Persuasion (+3)
Str: 19 (+4) | Dex: 15 (+2) | Con:Save: +2 16 (+3) | Int: 15 (+2) | Wis: 14 (+2) | Cha: 13 (+1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Elvish, and Dwarvish

“My words,” Kain Dorset says. | ‘My thoughts,’ Sir Kain Dorset thinks. | My actions . . .

The sun gently warms the road and fields around this small patrol, the comforting smell of leather and metal grease fill the air. Kain opens his eyes as he gently rides down the path, his men laughing and telling stories that could not be retold in proper gatherings. A smile slowly fills Kain's face, this was a good day, one worth the hard work to get here. He chimes in to tell his own stories to pass the time, stories of a long time lover, some of the many small skirmishes he has been a part of. A young mans laughter fills the air, Kain turns his head to see which of his men it is, and then time seems to slow. A young man with raven black hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles... Dorian... His old squire.

Time resumes, faster than before spilling all around them as the day presses forward to... No, Kain did not want this, he did not want to see it again. Cold rain falls on him, the evening is here and they are ambushed by bandits... "No... I know how this ends, I must stop it!" However as we all know, dream do not follow our logic or whims. A flash of steel, a scream, and more liquids splash Kain's face. He yells in anger, his own blade striking faster and faster, more liquid covers him. Its strange coldness is in vast contrast to that day, the warm blood he felt as he ended their lives, as he held his squire... His fist clenches tightly and he slams it into the ground... But it is not the hard impact he expected...

Kain's eyes flash open for real this time, a heavy mist surrounding him, and three familiar faces, each trying to hold him back from thrashing about. His fist placed into the thigh of Elora as she smiles down at him, holding back the tears from the pain.

"Are you alright? Did I harm you?" Kain asks his elven companion. Sitting up quickly he pulls her in for a hug and holds her for a moment.

"Gods you were deep asleep, don't thrash like that, had you held your sword you might have killed someone." Amelia says while standing and stretching. She then proceeds to gather their equipment.

"I received no permanent damage my lord, fret not." Elora says in a comforting voice, closer to that of a mother to a son than a servant to a lord. She stands and tries to brush off the moss and mud.

Kain stands a bit groggily and looks about their new surroundings, noticing several faces from the Inn he sighs a bit, relieved his companions also made whatever journey this was.

OOC

Movement: —

Action: Perception

Bonus Action: —

Reaction: —

Edited October 29, 2023 by FelixFaust (see edit history)

zaffo · October 29, 2023

Harin Avosi

Half-elf Sage, College of Lore Bard

AC: 14 (Leather) | HP: 14/14 (1d8) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 14, Insight 14, Investigation 11
Str: 7 (-2) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con:Save: +2 14 (+2) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 14 (+2) | Cha: 18 (+4)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Elvish, Dwarvish, Gnomish, and Halfling

Harin awakes with a gasp as the rain starts to build in the clearing he finds himself in. His warm bed at the tavern and the dreams of his youth that came with, of fieldwork with Master Sirdoso and the feelings of finding magic and poetry for the first time, all washed away into muck. There was something else there, a foggy hint of a dream he should have remembered, but the more he tries to reach for it the farther it slips away into the cool morning air.

His chest is nearby, its contents spilled amongst all his other possessions, what little he has. He quickly gathers his things, taking hurried glances at what, and who, is around him. There are faces he recognizes from the tavern. How and why were we all spirited here? he wonders absently. He sees they are all as befuddled as him, so he starts giving more attention to the road and forest, looking for movement among the trees or evidence of carts that may have carried them all here.

OOC

Movement: —

Action: —

Bonus Action: —

Reaction: —

Edited October 30, 2023 by zaffo (see edit history)

Passione · October 29, 2023

Haakon Valdemar IV

Human Abjuration Wizard

AC: 11 (Unarmored) | HP: 8/8 | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 12, Insight 14, Investigation 14
Str: 14 (+2) | Dex: 12 (+1) | Con:Save: +2 14 (+2) | Int: 14 (+2) | Wis: 14 (+2) | Cha: 9 (-1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Celestial, Gnomish, and Halfling

“My words,” | ‘My thoughts,’ | My actions . . .

Haakon dreams of better days, of satisfaction from a job well done. Nothing extravagant, far from it even. A perfect day for people watching, with nothing pressing stopping anyone from taking it easy and having some fun. A day spent on leisurely patrols punctuated by jokingly complaining that nothing happened. A well-oiled machine. A perfect game.

He basks in the quaint warmth of home, in nostalgia made manifest, where everything fit in and made sense.

But what the mists have given, the mists seem to take away. Clouds gather, warp, and weft, a blanket consuming the vibrancy of everything it touches. It looms and grows until it spans the horizon. The very air becomes cold and heavy, making one barter and beg for each breath. It rains on his parade but ah, finally, a splash of color comes back. The world is bathed in blood. He feels everyone and everything leer on him. With bloodshot eyes and limbs poised to strike, they invoke a promise of violence.

Haakon leaps from his stupor and trips on a rock. “A dream. A hope and a dream. There is much work left to do.” He picks himself up, swipes the wetness from his brow and beard, and assesses his situation.

OOC

Movement: —

Action: Perception Investigation

Bonus Action: —

Reaction: —

Spellbook

Kail_Traeganni · October 30, 2023

Ardir Hálilúëa

Humble Farrier, Shadar-Kai Barbarian

AC: 15 (AC Bonus) | HP: 15/15 (1d12+3) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 10
Str: 18 (+4) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con:Save: +2 16 (+3) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 14 (+2) | Cha: 10 (+0)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common and Elvish

Ardir finally startles awake, to the dull pain of a small stone wedged under his back and the knotted muscle annoyed by it. His eyes widen quickly as he recognizes Tysh's voices... and that he is no longer at the Inn.

"Thrice damned Mist! One night in a soft bed... bah." Ardir rolls over and pushes himself upright, taking up his maul. He roll his shoulders and grunts with a pained relief.

"Thanks for waking me, Tysh."

He surveys the old road, hoping for a spark of recognition...

OOC

Ardir will attempt a raw Intelligence-History check- has he traveled this way before? Might he recognize which forest they're in, at least, if not which road they're on?

History

Anthr4xus · October 30, 2023

Both Kain and Haakon made the same observation that Raven had about the nearly flame-like trees, although only Kain was similarly able to pick up the distant popping noise. All three of them noticed that the wood paved road was worn smooth and had been beaten nearly to planks by the amount of traffic to have traversed this way. The wood was obviously old, having not been replaced in quite some time.

Haakon also noticed that there were a couple of old campfire sites, partially buried with loamy chunks. Other places in the clearing he found the what appeared to be a latrine ditch, also filled in some time ago.

For his part, Ardir instantly recognized the distinctive trees. They were in the Forest of Torches, likely near Silbervas or perhaps even further south near Fort Watten. Last Ardir had heard, Fort Watten was abandoned and left to the dead. Silbervas had fallen to the dead several months back, but persistent rumors circulated that there were small groups of survivors still there, eking out some kind of living in the ruins. The Talons seldom patrolled this far south, although Ardir had heard the logging operations from Lekar were harvesting the Forest of Torches. They hadn't gotten as far south as Silbervas, at least as far as Ardir had heard.

jrsey · October 30, 2023

Tysh Mountainheart

Hill Dwarf Acolyte Twilight Cleric

AC: 18 (Heavy Armor & Shield) | HP: 12/12 (1d8+3+1) | Speed: 25 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 15, Investigation 11
Str: 12 (+1) | Dex: 11 (+0) | Con: 16 (+3) | Int: 12 (+1) | Wis: 16 (+3) | Cha: 12 (+1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Dwarvish, Elvish, and Celestial

Tysh gathers the rest of her scattered possessions. She dons her armor, equips her shield and warhammer, and shoulders her backpack. Looking around, she sees the others gathering their things and getting their bearings. The panic she felt upon waking finally subsides.

"Is anyone hurt?" she asks, her voice loud enough to be heard by all present but not so loud as to attract attention outside of their immediate vicinity. "And where are we?"

voodoozombie · October 31, 2023

Raven

Human Shadow Sorcerer, Haunted Spirit Medium

AC: 12/15 (Mage Armor) | HP: 8/8 (1d6+2) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 11, Investigation 10
Str: 10 (-0) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 17 (+3)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Elvish, Abyssal, Undercommon

| |

Raven picks up what little equipment she has and slings her backpack onto her back. She takes another look around and shrugs her shoulders.

"I don't know where we are, but the forest seems quite old and does the wooden road. It looks to have been used quite a bit, but it hasn't been repaired for quite some time."

She looks south.

"There's a popping sound coming from that direction. It seems to be some distance from us."

Raven shrugs her s shoulders once again.

"That's all I know. I haven't been here long enough to get to know this land."

Edited October 31, 2023 by voodoozombie (see edit history)

FelixFaust · October 31, 2023

Kain Dorset

Noble Knight

AC: 19 (Chain & Shield) | HP: 13/13 (1d10+3) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: Passive Perception 14, Insight 12, Investigation 12

Proficient Skills: Athletics (+6), Perception (+4), Survival (+4), History (+4), Persuasion (+3)
Str: 19 (+4) | Dex: 15 (+2) | Con:Save: +2 16 (+3) | Int: 15 (+2) | Wis: 14 (+2) | Cha: 13 (+1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common, Elvish, and Dwarvish

“My words,” Kain Dorset says. | ‘My thoughts,’ Sir Kain Dorset thinks. | My actions . . .

Kain heaves the many bags of his and his followers onto his shoulder as if they weighed nothing. Looking to Tysh he responds;

"We thank you for your concern, but I don't believe we are injured at least, save for perhaps some bruising on Elora's thigh..." His voice trails off, obviously bothered by the fact that he struck her thigh while they were waking him from his nightmare.

He shakes his head slightly as if still half asleep. His short white hair sheds beads of water as he does almost like a dog. He pulls out a few cloaks for the girls and covers each of them in turn before respond to Raven. "You hear the popping too? I thought perhaps it was just my imagination." He then looks around with a bit of a blank look on his face for a moment. "We have never been here before, so I do not have any idea where we are in relation to anywhere else. I can however take another look around, perhaps figure out something, but don't get your hopes up right?" He smiles at those around him before moving closer to the woods, then the road, taking his time to look closely at them all.

OOC

Movement: —

Action: Investigation Survival

Bonus Action: —

Reaction: —

Edited October 31, 2023 by FelixFaust (see edit history)

Otog · October 31, 2023

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster

Human Sailor, Fighter

AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8
Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common

"Wake up!"

The back of Scarby's head throbs, but quickly gets to his feet. Too fast it would seem, as he stumbles once before standing up straight. Feeling the back of his head, he feels the beginning of what will likely be a large lump. In a lifetime of shipborne tumbles and tavern brawls, it was nothing he had not dealt with before.

Blurry-eyed, Scarby takes a look around at the colorful characters around him. Some of them looked familiar from the night before, or was that a dream too? Regardless, clearly he was not in London anymore.

Just before he was about to speak, he heard the popping.

"You hear the popping too? I thought perhaps it was just my imagination... We have never been here before, so I do not have any idea where we are in relation to anywhere else. I can however take another look around, perhaps figure out something, but don't get your hopes up right?"

Scarby quickly gathers his things and joins the others. Addressing the group,

"Oi! Not sure how much help I'll be, but I'm a decent climber. I can see about gettin' a better look from up one of these trees?"

Edited November 5, 2023 by Otog (see edit history)

Kail_Traeganni · November 1, 2023

Ardir Hálilúëa

Humble Farrier, Shadar-Kai Barbarian

AC: 15 (AC Bonus) | HP: 15/15 (1d12+3) | Speed: 30 ft.
Senses: passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 10
Str: 18 (+4) | Dex: 14 (+2) | Con:Save: +2 16 (+3) | Int: 10 (+0) | Wis: 14 (+2) | Cha: 10 (+0)
Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common and Elvish

Ardir's face flashes briefly between surprise, hope, and pain. Grief, trepidation, hope all war within him.

"I know these woods. We're likely somewhere between Silbervas and Fort Watten, far south of where the Talons patrol. I..." Ardir's voice fails him, for a moment. Then his tone hardens. "I need to see Silbervas. The people I arrived in Falkovnia with eighty years past, my family... I need to find out what happened to them. As all this started, the Talons conscripted me, took me north- then I heard the city was lost."

The elf gray form stills and tenses, his knuckles whitening against the handle of his maul. Then, with a long breath, he lets his anger go. That pitiless Wachtmeister was far from him. For now.

"We should reach Silbervas if we travel north, and north is the way back toward what is left of the living anyway. I've not met most of you lot... I'm Ardir, by the by."

Edited November 5, 2023 by Kail_Traeganni (see edit history)

Text_1	Text_2	Text_3	Bold_1	Accent_1	Mood_1
Warm_1	Warm_2	Warm_3	Bold_2	Accent_2	Mood_2
Cool_1	Cool_2	Cool_3	Bold_3	Accent_3	Mood_3
Bright_1	Bright_2	Bright_3	Bold_4	Accent_4	Mood_4

Chapter 1: A Grey Beginning (Group 2)

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