Traveling up from the civilized lands to the south, the Keep can be seen sitting about 500 yards off the main North Road, situated amongst a rocky outcropping with a verdant forest beyond it.
Even from the road, the Keep is an impressive sight: a mighty castle perched on a flat-topped hill, with a path climbing steeply up beneath frowning guard towers until it reaches the main gate beyond. Crenellated battlements line the walls, offering plenty of cover for archers to attack any foe coming up the exposed path.
It is common knowledge that the famous Caves of Chaos lie about four miles beyond the settlement, a short walk for most, but the locals all avoid that area as much as possible.
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The North Road continues past the Keep, eventually connecting to the main road that leads all the way to the capital city of Loftwick.
OGRE MAGE wrote: ↑Fri Aug 25, 2023 7:03 pm
We will start this adventure along the road, just before you reach The Keep. It will be assumed that you all know each other, at least a little, since you are traveling together, but for the sake of clarity, I would still appreciate everyone introducing their characters as best they can with your first couple posts. (even though the characters might know each other, we players still need to get to know them)
Arrival Day
Late Afternoon
Mostly Sunny
After swelling to over 40 souls in all, (not counting animals) the large caravan you have been traveling with for the last three days is about to split up. Some of the wealthier merchants with business in Loftwick (and their own guards for protection) announce their intentions of continuing up the North Road past the Keep without visiting, while the other half, including mostly adventurers such as yourself, intend to see what this Keep and its inhabitants have to offer them. Encouraging words are uttered, with folks wishing each other the best of luck along the rest of their arduous journey before parting ways.
As you round the final bend of the forest trail, you each get your first (recent) glimpse of the Keep off in the distance. It is a magnificent beacon of civilization to behold after traveling through mostly wilderness for what seems like weeks now.
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As you let your eyes adjust to the brighter light of the open lands beyond the trees, you look around the surrounding countryside. There is movement in the distance. A large grayish creature roaming a rocky field in plain sight, though several hundred yards away from the road. It is late afternoon as the forest birds chirp their goodbyes from the trees, the scent of roasting meats assail your senses, making you long even more for a hot meal and eventually, a soft bed.
Actions?
Please take the time to introduce your PC as best you can in character. (even though you may already know each other in-game)This is also a great time to start dropping hints about your characters intentions while in the Borderlands, to encourage and gravitate towards others with similar interests.
I will pause here to give every player a chance to make (at least) their initial intro post, so feel free to chat away with each other in the meantime. I have more information to update before you enter, so please don’t jump ahead and place yourselves in the tavern just yet.
Pimlan whistles at sight of the keep "Impressive, I really am a long ways from Longspear." he looks around and notices nobody is nearby, he scrambles forward catching up to the rest of the group of adventuring folk. He thinks he recognizes a couple folks, locals from back home. The halfling moves up next to Magdal "You look familiar. Didn't I mess up your order from the baker's? Or maybe that was from the butcher's...hmm sorry I've had a lot of jobs but I swear I know you from Longspear. You have a familiar face." the halfling waits for some sort of reply then notices Dredd "Hmm, you seam familiar as well? You ever been to Longspear? Hey, buddy down here!" the halfling jumps waving his arms at Dredd. "I know many mistake me for a human child, but I assure you I am a halfling of adult age." he says with a smile. Then the energy having worked it's way from him he calms down a little bit and continues on still waiting for either to talk back to him, or anyone to say something really.
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred "If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling
Algrim Tirion Dwarf - HarnMaser Dalin Silverhand Dwarf Thief - Barrowmaze Elwood 'Dug' The Bounty Hunter Dwarf Swashbuckler - Hedge's Adventures in the World of Golarion Roan Gravelbeard Dwarf Fighter - Hedge's Greyhawk Adventures Torvik Shadowhood Dwarf Fighter/Thief - Nocturne
Loyn has heard many stories of the keep, but when he sees it for the first time, he is in awe. He runs his hand over the hammer he carries and thinks of how this could only be the work of his brethren. He can’t wait to feel the strength of the stone and see if it holds any secrets of its own. He looks around at the others and wonders what brings them here?
“Well, if that ain’t a mighty fine structure…what a site for sore eyes and feet!” His leather boots are muddied and feeling heavier than usual. Loyn is tall for his stature, his red hair is usually unkempt, but he decided on wearing braids, just like his father would.
“This is my first trip….has anyone travelled here before?” Quietly he says to himself, “Hopefully it’s not my last…” He lets out a rather nervous laugh as he sees something moving in the field.
The tall human in banded mail carries a white shield emblazoned with a silvery sun and a gold crescent moon on the lower right quadrant. He is weary after the long journey, as many in the caravan saw him staying up late, taking extra shifts on watch each night. Despite that, he is still affable with a big, natural smile. He approaches Pimlan, speaking to him in Halfling. "I'm happy you still have energy after our travels, friend. Me, I'll be happy when we are safely inside the keep." He gestures to the large, grey creature in the distance. "Any idea what that thing is? It's not a...dragon, is it?" Switching to Common, he raises his voice and addresses the rest of the caravan. "Anyone know what that thing is? Should we be worried?"
Sometimes this summer I will most likely be participating in another 24 hour game of Dungeons & Dragons as part of Extra Life. This organization uses gaming to help raise money to donate to children's hospitals. I'm raising money for Marshfield Children's Hospital in Marshfield, WI, and all money I raise will go to that hospital. All donations are tax-deductible. Please take a moment to check out my donation page below. Thank you.
Hotgoblin wrote: ↑Mon Sep 04, 2023 12:40 amLoyn Bene Shortbeard-dwarf fighter “This is my first trip….has anyone travelled here before?”
The paladin answers Loyn's question. "I have happy memories of visiting as a child. The sights and sounds of the soldiers in their mail, drilling and riding their steeds...I'm sure that was part of the reason I took up arms and armor myself. I haven't been back since...well, it's been some time."
Sometimes this summer I will most likely be participating in another 24 hour game of Dungeons & Dragons as part of Extra Life. This organization uses gaming to help raise money to donate to children's hospitals. I'm raising money for Marshfield Children's Hospital in Marshfield, WI, and all money I raise will go to that hospital. All donations are tax-deductible. Please take a moment to check out my donation page below. Thank you.
"Gyb's been there too. That's me. I'm Gyb", says a scruffy, smelly scarecrow sidling up to the conversation between Crobeus and Loyn Bene Shortbeard. Neither recall seeing him travelling with the wagons over the last few days. Judging by the mud all over him, he may have just jumped out of a ditch, slipping into the crowd as the line rolled past."Used to ride the wagons I did. Ten, fifteen years ago. Delivering the Saltstone. All over we went. Always stuck with me it did. Treasure, caves, swords, men, women, bravery. Well it would, wouldn't it?"
As he talks, the vagabond called Gyb constantly looks around him. Almost as if he's directing his words around the human and the dwarf, as much as to them. Suddenly Gyb spots the holy symbol around the neck of a cleric dressed all in green. "Greetings sir! Gyb's happy to know that a fellow follower of the Great Dweller is here to bless our journey". He takes a wooden disc out of his shirt and waves it at Stobart Galt. "Wandered far have you? Long miles such as I, I'm sure. Do you if there's a cobbler up in the Keep? My boots are plenty worn".
Rida plods along with everyone else. Halbred resting across his shoulder and his crossbow hanging from his other shoulder by its carry strap. He is alert and ever watchful. Easily the least talkative of the group, only speaking in reply to someone talking to him, his responses slow and short.
As they see the keep, he grins and in response to Loyn's question, "No but my Da from here."
In response to Crobeus, "Leave it alone, leave us alone."
In response to Gyb, "You were stuck?"
He seems to prefer the company of Crobeus and Magdal, and to spend much of his time watching Gyb.
"Stuck?...No!" Gyb laughs. "Gyb's hard to stick and things don't often stick to Gyb". He lowers his voice. "Sometimes a chicken, or a loaf of bread. But so hungry I have to be for that. And rich only. From the poor, never! He shakes a very worn and battered coin purse, which sounds quite full. "Help the poor, I do".
The young cleric is tall and slim, with dark hair, of obvious Oeridian decent, but the accent to his common marks him as Keolandish. It feels like he's been a constant presence for most of the journey, but moving around the various parts of the large caravan of wagons as the days went on. He has been friendly on the journey and introduced himself simply as "Stobart of Fharlanghn". The long days of walking have not bothered him, and he seems familiar with the ebb and flow of caravan life. On occasion he has offered to help the wagoneers when they have had a problem with a wagon or animals, and looks like he knows what he's doing when they have taken him up on it.
As they arrive at the keep he stops and stares for a bit, taking in the sights, and the various questions. He smiles at Gyb.
"My training in the order of the Great Dweller has taken me far and wide, most recently back to Woodsage, my home, but never to the keep. My father visited the nearby caves in his youth."
The young elven spell caster that stands just four and half feet tall. She introduces herself as "Renna the Prestidigitator of Corellon Larethian". She has light brown hair and wears her long hair in a braid with a green headband. She wears green adventuring clothes over a chain mail suit. She carries a staff and has a dagger in her belt. Each morning before her prayers and studies she would wander and repair small broken objects and fill water using magic. It has been obvious that the armor that she wears is new and that she finds it uncomfortable, but she does not complain of it.
She seems to have known Stobart perhaps a few more days than the rest noting when ask that "she comes from Grayhill in Keoland."
She seems to be watchful of the grayish creature, mentioning that "at least it not bandits", but otherwise giving it wide bearth.
As they approach the Keep she says "We need to keep our wits about us, I hear the Keep is run like a military camp. But the way, if folks are interested, I am looking for a few companions to come with me and investigate a slightly less well known cave complex in the area, that my brother told me about. Let me know if you are interested in checking it out."
Haldric strokes his long gray beard at the sight of the keep, his eyes farther away. "It's been some number of years since my brothers were here to lay the bones of that Keep in the hard mantle of the earth. A fine job of it they did, it seems. I can't help but be proud for what they did here! A hundred years from now it will yet stand! I fancy a quick tour of the place before we move on to more pressing issues...."
His gaze turns a bit sad as he ponders the fate of his family. How some brothers could work such art with hammer and chisel. While other brothers turned down a dark path of gravel and rubble to ravage some shiny island across the sea.....
Dredd is tired, but he wouldn't return to his home in Longspear for anything. This is what he has always wanted! And yet, all of these chatty people...he's still not used to strangers and their ways. He kept to himself for most of the trip, except on occasion when he ventured near the merchant's guards to see if he could learn anything about them.
When the Halfling approaches him, he looks down on the fellow and nods. "Aye, I have been to Longspear, half man. It be my home all my life. I remember your face. And maybe," Dredd looks around at the rest of the group, "a couple of other faces as well." He glances at the pretty ranger...Maggie he thinks is her name.
Dredd shifts the battered old shield on his back and the quiver of javelins, but never takes his hand off his spear. He's sweating in his splint mail, and not for the first time he wonders if he should have bought chain mail instead. He pushes the dirty hair out of his face and takes a gulp from his waterskin. He slows his pace until he is alongside Thirteen, the other Half-Orc in the group. "What you think about that beast yonder? Ever seen one before?"
Pimlan listens to Dredd, and looks to where he is looking at the gray creature. He squints but can't really tell any better than before "Hmm never seen a creature like that." Then overhearing others talking moves around with renewed excitement "Oooo caves of chaos, sounds adventurous. Kinda ominous too." weaving his way through the throng of people looking for the ones talking he will greet them all "Hi, names Pimlan but most just call me Pim." the halfling reminds some of a kid on a sugar high "Hmm adventure is everywhere around here. I'm up for an adventure."
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred "If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling
Algrim Tirion Dwarf - HarnMaser Dalin Silverhand Dwarf Thief - Barrowmaze Elwood 'Dug' The Bounty Hunter Dwarf Swashbuckler - Hedge's Adventures in the World of Golarion Roan Gravelbeard Dwarf Fighter - Hedge's Greyhawk Adventures Torvik Shadowhood Dwarf Fighter/Thief - Nocturne
He addresses the group of travelers still lingering around,
“I’m Loyn Bene Shortbeard, son of Groyn, of the clan Battle Axe, nice to meet you all. Glad to be with a few travelers that have knowledge of the “goings on” inside the keep. The unknown can be intimidating, always good to have protection with you.” He pulls out his battle axe and kisses it and winks at the others.
“I only have stories of the keep and its surroundings that were told to me by My father, Groyn. Unfortunately he went missing in the Caves of Chaos, so I come for healing and answers. Hopefully, I find more than just that here!” Loyn gets a little choked up, clears his throat and begins fidgeting with a bone like stone that he pulled out of his belt pouch.
Twojaws on account of him speaking a broad common dialect with a gruff Yeomanry lilt and being fluent in Orcish, his mother tongue.
Thirteen on account of being the last of 13. Not him, but her, his mother. That's all he says on the matter for now. He never knew her, she died shortly after childbirth. He survived the trauma, pulled free of the womb after a Caesarian slice to open her abdomen.
He comes back to explore ancestral lands though his maternal orcish tribe seem to be scattered to the four winds.
Of average height and build for a human, considerably less so for an orc. Thirteen straddles two racial worlds, uncomfortable in both, for he is Half-Orcish, undeniably so.
Unkempt and pockmarked complexion, straggly hair, heavy browed forehead overshadowing deep blue eyes and a broad but uneven smile of extended irregular teeth. Not muscular, but surprisingly lithe and serpentine in gait and movement. Usually dressed in common urban wear typical of a journeyman labourer.
He holds out a silver platter in his left hand. It is marked with Pelorian inscriptions, a 'trinket he found' though his loose morals are not above thieving the offering plate from the last Abbey that gave him shelter. He taps the side with a rusty iron crowbar, a tool of his trade. It has five silver pieces rattling on top.
"Offerings each. We should give thanks for a safe journey. Destiny calls and we have answered but Fates must be tempered by Favour and obtaining divine pleasures.
I have heard, from an elf no less, that blessings are reserved for those who give thanks each time they cross the Keep threshold. He told me he regularly gave a gold coin in thanksgiving and when bitten by a spider, the poison beset him not.
I will present our offerings in the chapel and hope to raise a 'mezuzah' at the Keep Gate to bless all those who pass under these hallowed ramparts.
I will not default you, I swear on my mother's life."
He keenly passes the offering plate under the noses of the comrade journeymen, tapping the plate or coughing if anyone seems a bit reluctant to give.
