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Gregorotto

Gregorotto

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12 Kythorn, Year of the Warrior Princess, 1489 DR
Darkhold,
Western Heartlands, Sword Coast
 

Mikhael was not pleased with the look.

Confined to a cell since his arrival at Darkhold, he had been treated by healers but they did little to fix the blemishes on his beautiful face. Black lines, like cracked porcelain, marred his face, down to his neck. Mikhael had always had a vain streak, that much he never bothered to hide. His time in the Zhentarim had left him a handsome man in the company of fairly ugly individuals, give or take a few good memories here or there, but now he was starting to look the part more.

His encounter at Catterholm had not sat right with him. He betrayed his companions, yes, but that wasn't quite it. Aria had been slain, though that was no great loss. The sheer brutality of it was anoying: there was no delicacy to it. No, it was that the task was completed, they all but won, but left without the prize, and for that, he was being punished. Certainly, Richter, Theodoric, and Ishara's attack on him had left him battered, but Mikhael could recover from that. It was being treated a prisoner by his own people that bothered him.

The door opened. Instead of a healer or servitor, it was Nergon who entered. The halfling looked worse for wear, as if he was suffering as Mikhael was: but the shackle-marks on his wrists indicated he had been set free, which was more than Mikhael could claim.

"Love the new look, friend."

Mikhael grinned wickedly, leaning into the look. "What can I say? I didn't look baatezu-may-care enough for my liking. Why are you here? They setting you free for good behavior?"

Nergon chuckled. "Not quite. Ylria and I are being sent north. Our activity is taking us to Daggerford, and you're invited. Narsetta is coming, though she lacks a choice in the matter, and we'll be meeting a new associate before long."

Mikhael raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"You're not done with your old friend Theodoric just yet. And rumor has it some new friends will be along for the ride."

His grin faltered. "And I'm coming... why?"

Nergon shook his head. "We're going on a mercy mission, friend. We're off to make friends! Now get dressed: we've a long ride ahead. And the Pereghost would hate to make our new associate wait."

 

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Previously, East of Elturel...

The Chosen of Nymmurh found themselves scattered at best.

Escape from Catterholm had proven simple in Trini's skiff, the priestess of Tymora riding her goddess' luck as they headed west, the ship-like casino burning behind them well into the night. Trini's luck ran out in time when it became clear the marsh would give way to harder ground but denser forest, forcing them to march. Her goal was to get them to safety among friends in Elturel, the holy capital of Elturgard, the small religious state east of Baldur's Gate. It turns out she had been left in Mornmaw to spy, to find members of the Cult of the Dragon, but once she became wise to the mechanizations of the Zhentarim, she came back for Theodoric and his companions. With Aria's body in tow, Trini kept her body in gentle repose with magic, and they trekked onward, until one night, one of the half-dozen survivors disappeared.

Theodoric and Richter found out why soon enough: while "Ishara," who revealed her true name as Zartha, was hesitant to help, it was discovered a clutch of yuan-ti, serpentfolk, had captured a gnomish man and tried to make a sacrifice to their serpent god of him. Saving the man but incurring the wrath of the serpent cult, Trini and Theodoric ordered Richter to take the survivors and flee north, hoping to reunite later, and then, fought their last stand.spacer.png

Or so they thought: something happened in the fighting, a light overtaking Theodoric and lights coming from the eyes of his mask as they fought their final stand, destroying the yuan-ti mind whisperer that led the group.

After nearly a tenday, they arrived in Elturel, but with no sign of Richter or the other survivors.

Once there, they laid Aria to rest in the Grand Cemetery in the holy city's western walls, and Zartha disappeared, content to make her own way in the city. It was there that Theodoric discovered the city was full to the brim for two reasons: a coming festival celebrating the rise of the bright Companion of Elturel, and because refugees from settlements around the Western Heartlands were seeking safety. Apparently bandits, many of them in dragon regalia were raiding hamlets, towns, and farmsteads across the Sword Coast: experience Theodoric knew all too well.

Yet Trini's associate was not yet in the city, when word came: on the night of the 14th of Kythorn, they would arrive at A Pair of Black Antlers, the inn in which they resided.

And they were bringing friends.

Previously, South of Elturel...

The Heroes of Greenest left their namesake to great fanfare, and found a comfortable, if not leisurely, pace before them.

spacer.pngThe next few days were somewhat uneventful, with somewhat being relative to the eventfulness of the last tenday. Without Chuck, the candor of the group perhaps improved to be less juvenile, but without Aurix had a bit more of an edge. Aralim remaining the moral exemplar, he was left with Dani's attitude and the question of strange bedfellows in the form of Valerian, with Rahnur and Wendy rounding out the group now with Rahnur's fresh understanding of his father's sins and having resolved them, and Wendy leaning a bit more about herself in the past few days.

And then the ettercaps attacked.

Well, not them exactly. A gnomish merchant and his human nephew were waylaid by webs on their horses, the spiders and ettercaps bearing down on them. Sleep and gravity serving them well in the past, the group dispatched the arachnids with relative ease and saved the group, having found out the merchant had been robbed by raiders in dragon masks only two days hence. The next day, they found group after group with the same story: raiders coming to their village, their farmstead, their temple, and leaving it in ruins in the name of riches. With each similar tale to Greenest's siege, Leosin urged the group faster, cutting a full day off of their trip, and heading to the same place every victim of raiders sought refuge at:

Elturel, Bastion of the Gods.

Leosin explained that his associates would be there, in a tavern called A Pair of Black Antlers, ready to discuss business with them.

And they were bringing friends.

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14 Kythorn, Year of the Warrior Princess, 1489 DR,
Elturel,
Western Heartlands, Sword Coast

Dusk falls on Elturel, but you would never know it.

spacer.pngThe shining gem of Elturgard, the seat of the High Observer, and glowing beneath the light of the celestial Companion, Elturel rests on the north bank of the River Chionthar, as close as Rahnur has been in months. Gentle waters are heard over the lull of life coming from the city, where Theodoric and Trini, having enjoyed the day's festivities, find themselves headed to their supposed meeting, to the same location as Dani and Wendy and Aralim and Valerian: to A Pair of Black Antlers. The crowd is full, lively, but nervous: because there are twice as many refugees as there are festival-goers. The city is swollen, but all is calm beneath the holy light of the Companion.

A wide city, the Hall of the High Observer sits across the river from where the Heroes of Greenest plan on heading, across the singular bridge that connects north and south banks. Ships mark the Chionthar headed west and east to Baldur's Gate and Scornubel, with holy Elturel in the center. As each refugee is checked and analyzed, it comes to Leosin and his troop of unlikely allies, Wendy finding eyes on her as likely as always; Valerian finds this a fresh perspective for as bad as his scars are, he is still human. Wendy, ever a goblin, is faced with stares, some jeers but never to her face.

But for her part, the two guards that approach do so with a smile: two women, an older half-elven woman and a dark-skinned woman barely of age. "Hark, Sister Mantlemorn: do as I do. Well-met, friends! From whence do you hail, and how may we assist you this day? May we inspect your goods? With all the souls journeying in for the Festival of the Companion's Light and the refugee crisis besides, we have to check what we can. How fares you?"

Inside, passing near the southern gate across the Maiden's Bridge, Trini stops Theodoric. "Well I'll be... there's my friend. There, the half-elf fellow in the bandages with... th' goblin? Luck be a Lady tonight, what's that about? Reckon we oughta go to'em and help'em get in?"

There, Theodoric spies them: familiar faces, in fact. The noblewoman from Berdusk, and the goblin artist, and the priest of Lathander, and the half-drow; what are the chances?

Across the bridge, Wendy and Rahnur spies the mask, recognizing Theodoric by his mask: didn't they see him in the tavern in Berdusk?

Fate seems to be drawing faces together.

Out of Character

Welcome to Chapter 4, and to a united Tyranny of Dragons game!

A few housekeeping things:

  • Everyone should be level 4, and should let me know what they've updated in their private threads. If you haven't already, do so; and remember, take a Feat or an Attribute upgrade!
  • For Theodoric: commentate and embellish as much as you want for the adventure with the yuan-ti in the swamps. What has Theodoric been up to? How did he interpret the strange divine energy flowing through him? Has he visited any temples of Tyr? He has been in Elturel for three days: what's he been up to?
  • For the Heroes of Greenest: it's been 4 days since you left Greenest. Embellish conversations, the fight with the ettercaps and spiders, and your arrival.
  • For everyone: feel free to roll Perception or Deception on hiding the dragon eggs and convincing the guards to let you lot through without an issue.

Fans of Descent into Avernus may recognize a familiar face among our named NPCs! Now, let's dive into Chapter 4, which is the longest chapter of all time.

Gregorotto

Gregorotto

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12 Kythorn, Year of the Warrior Princess, 1489 DR
Darkhold,
Western Heartlands, Sword Coast
 

Mikhael was not pleased with the look.

Confined to a cell since his arrival at Darkhold, he had been treated by healers but they did little to fix the blemishes on his beautiful face. Black lines, like cracked porcelain, marred his face, down to his neck. Mikhael had always had a vain streak, that much he never bothered to hide. His time in the Zhentarim had left him a handsome man in the company of fairly ugly individuals, give or take a few good memories here or there, but now he was starting to look the part more.

His encounter at Catterholm had not sat right with him. He betrayed his companions, yes, but that wasn't quite it. Aria had been slain, though that was no great loss. The sheer brutality of it was anoying: there was no delicacy to it. No, it was that the task was completed, they all but won, but left without the prize, and for that, he was being punished. Certainly, Richter, Theodoric, and Ishara's attack on him had left him battered, but Mikhael could recover from that. It was being treated a prisoner by his own people that bothered him.

The door opened. Instead of a healer or servitor, it was Nergon who entered. The halfling looked worse for wear, as if he was suffering as Mikhael was: but the shackle-marks on his wrists indicated he had been set free, which was more than Mikhael could claim.

"Love the new look, friend."

Mikhael grinned wickedly, leaning into the look. "What can I say? I didn't look baatezu-may-care enough for my liking. Why are you here? They setting you free for good behavior?"

Nergon chuckled. "Not quite. Ylria and I are being sent north. Our activity is taking us to Daggerford, and you're invited. Narsetta is coming, though she lacks a choice in the matter, and we'll be meeting a new associate before long."

Mikhael raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"You're not done with your old friend Theodoric just yet. And rumor has it some new friends will be along for the ride."

His grin faltered. "And I'm coming... why?"

Nergon shook his head. "We're going on a mercy mission, friend. We're off to make friends! Now get dressed: we've a long ride ahead. And the Pereghost would hate to make our new associate wait."

 

spacer.png

Previously, East of Elturel...

The Chosen of Nymmurh found themselves scattered at best.

Escape from Catterholm had proven simple in Trini's skiff, the priestess of Tymora riding her goddess' luck as they headed west, the ship-like casino burning behind them well into the night. Trini's luck ran out in time when it became clear the marsh would give way to harder ground but denser forest, forcing them to march. Her goal was to get them to safety among friends in Elturel, the holy capital of Elturgard, the small religious state east of Baldur's Gate. It turns out she had been left in Mornmaw to spy, to find members of the Cult of the Dragon, but once she became wise to the mechanizations of the Zhentarim, she came back for Theodoric and his companions. With Aria's body in tow, Trini kept her body in gentle repose with magic, and they trekked onward, until one night, one of the half-dozen survivors disappeared.

Theodoric and Richter found out why soon enough: while "Ishara," who revealed her true name as Zartha, was hesitant to help, it was discovered a clutch of yuan-ti, serpentfolk, had captured a gnomish man and tried to make a sacrifice to their serpent god of him. Saving the man but incurring the wrath of the serpent cult, Trini and Theodoric ordered Richter to take the survivors and flee north, hoping to reunite later, and then, fought their last stand.spacer.png

Or so they thought: something happened in the fighting, a light overtaking Theodoric and lights coming from the eyes of his mask as they fought their final stand, destroying the yuan-ti mind whisperer that led the group.

After nearly a tenday, they arrived in Elturel, but with no sign of Richter or the other survivors.

Once there, they laid Aria to rest in the Grand Cemetery in the holy city's western walls, and Zartha disappeared, content to make her own way in the city. It was there that Theodoric discovered the city was full to the brim for two reasons: a coming festival celebrating the rise of the bright Companion of Elturel, and because refugees from settlements around the Western Heartlands were seeking safety. Apparently bandits, many of them in dragon regalia were raiding hamlets, towns, and farmsteads across the Sword Coast: experience Theodoric knew all too well.

Yet Trini's associate was not yet in the city, when word came: on the night of the 14th of Kythorn, they would arrive at A Pair of Black Antlers, the inn in which they resided.

And they were bringing friends.

Previously, South of Elturel...

The Heroes of Greenest left their namesake to great fanfare, and found a comfortable, if not leisurely, pace before them.

spacer.pngThe next few days were somewhat uneventful, with somewhat being relative to the eventfulness of the last tenday. Without Chuck, the candor of the group perhaps improved to be less juvenile, but without Aurix had a bit more of an edge. Aralim remaining the moral exemplar, he was left with Dani's attitude and the question of strange bedfellows in the form of Valerian, with Rahnur and Wendy rounding out the group now with Rahnur's fresh understanding of his father's sins and having resolved them, and Wendy leaning a bit more about herself in the past few days.

And then the ettercaps attacked.

Well, not them exactly. A gnomish merchant and his human nephew were waylaid by webs on their horses, the spiders and ettercaps bearing down on them. Sleep and gravity serving them well in the past, the group dispatched the arachnids with relative ease and saved the group, having found out the merchant had been robbed by raiders in dragon masks only two days hence. The next day, they found group after group with the same story: raiders coming to their village, their farmstead, their temple, and leaving it in ruins in the name of riches. With each similar tale to Greenest's siege, Leosin urged the group faster, cutting a full day off of their trip, and heading to the same place every victim of raiders sought refuge at:

Elturel, Bastion of the Gods.

Leosin explained that his associates would be there, in a tavern called A Pair of Black Antlers, ready to discuss business with them.

And they were bringing friends.

spacer.png

14 Kythorn, Year of the Warrior Princess, 1489 DR,
Elturel,
Western Heartlands, Sword Coast

Dusk falls on Elturel, but you would never know it.

The shining gem of Elturgard, the seat of the High Observer, and glowing beneath the light of the celestial Companion, Elturel rests on the north bank of the River Chionthar, as close as Rahnur has been in months. Gentle waters are heard over the lull of life coming from the city, where Theodoric and Trini, having enjoyed the day's festivities, find themselves headed to their supposed meeting, to the same location as Dani and Wendy and Aralim and Valerian: to A Pair of Black Antlers. The crowd is full, lively, but nervous: because there are twice as many refugees as there are festival-goers. The city is swollen, but all is calm beneath the holy light of the Companion.spacer.png

A wide city, the Hall of the High Observer sits across the river from where the Heroes of Greenest plan on heading, across the singular bridge that connects north and south banks. Ships mark the Chionthar headed west and east to Baldur's Gate and Scornubel, with holy Elturel in the center. As each refugee is checked and analyzed, it comes to Leosin and his troop of unlikely allies, Wendy finding eyes on her as likely as always; Valerian finds this a fresh perspective for as bad as his scars are, he is still human. Wendy, ever a goblin, is faced with stares, some jeers but never to her face.

But for her part, the two guards that approach do so with a smile: two women, an older half-elven woman and a dark-skinned woman barely of age. "Hark, Sister Mantlemorn: do as I do. Well-met, friends! From whence do you hail, and how may we assist you this day? May we inspect your goods? With all the souls journeying in for the Festival of the Companion's Light and the refugee crisis besides, we have to check what we can. How fares you?"

Inside, passing near the southern gate across the Maiden's Bridge, Trini stops Theodoric. "Well I'll be... there's my friend. There, the half-elf fellow in the bandages with... th' goblin? Luck be a Lady tonight, what's that about? Reckon we oughta go to'em and help'em get in?"

There, Theodoric spies them: familiar faces, in fact. The noblewoman from Berdusk, and the goblin artist, and the priest of Lathander, and the half-drow; what are the chances?

Across the bridge, Wendy and Rahnur spies the mask, recognizing Theodoric by his mask: didn't they see him in the tavern in Berdusk?

Fate seems to be drawing faces together.

Out of Character

Welcome to Chapter 4, and to a united Tyranny of Dragons game!

A few housekeeping things:

  • Everyone should be level 4, and should let me know what they've updated in their private threads. If you haven't already, do so; and remember, take a Feat or an Attribute upgrade!
  • For Theodoric: commentate and embellish as much as you want for the adventure with the yuan-ti in the swamps. What has Theodoric been up to? How did he interpret the strange divine energy flowing through him? Has he visited any temples of Tyr? He has been in Elturel for three days: what's he been up to?
  • For the Heroes of Greenest: it's been 4 days since you left Greenest. Embellish conversations, the fight with the ettercaps and spiders, and your arrival.
  • For everyone: feel free to roll Perception or Deception on hiding the dragon eggs and convincing the guards to let you lot through without an issue.

Fans of Descent into Avernus may recognize a familiar face among our named NPCs! Now, let's dive into Chapter 4, which is the longest chapter of all time.

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