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Saturday 12 June 2021

Nerdy Gamers - D&D Session 15

31 May 2021

⏪ Previous - Session 14

The party

·         Kisandra Starlight –Half-Elf Sorceress (Heather)

·         Barendil Dawnwood – Elf Ranger (Robert)

·         Guillerme don d’Lyonne – Human Paladin (Martin)

·         Friar Buck Norris – Human Cleric (Silas)

·         Nobby Nobbs – Human (probably) Rogue (Tom)

 

Escape From Thundertree

It had been a busy day. The party had completed their exploration and liberation of Thundertree from the monsters that inhabited its ruined buildings, so they retired to Brida’s cottage for a well-earned rest and a hearty meal of rations around the fire. Soon, night had fallen, and the adventurers had taken to their beds; Buck was snoring loudly within moments of his head hitting the pillow while Guillerme slept fitfully, dreaming of dragon heads on mantlepieces and the accompanying, though unlikely, praise from a proud father. Kisandra settled herself as far away from the noisy pair as she could, reading by candlelight before going to sleep herself.

By the middle of the night, Nobby stood outside smoking yet another drooping roll-up as Barendil quietly prowled round the building, keeping a sharp lookout for anything untoward, having already meditated for a couple of hours and therefore feeling fairly fresh. Aside from the snuffling and snorting coming from within the cottage as Buck continued to snore, the night air was still and cold. No, wait… there was something. A different snuffling noise, possibly the sound of feet gently padding on the ground out in the darkness. Cocking his ear, the ranger focused his attention to try and determine what it was that he could hear – was it some small nocturnal animal looking for its dinner or something more ominous? 

Barendil could discern the noises as coming from something larger than a badger or a fox, and the padding feet sounded like it was several somethings and none of them were four-legged animals. He decided that he needed to investigate, but conscious of previous encounters with monsters such as the Owlbear that attacked their camp some time ago, Barendil kicked open the door to Brida’s cottage to alert his companions for some support.

Nobby was already awake, he’d been dozing in his armour (nobody wanted him stripping off the only flimsy barrier between his odorous body and the outside world, particularly in such a confined space). Kisandra was swiftly awoken by the sound, swiftly kicking Buck’s bed to rouse the cleric. He stirred slightly but immediately jumped out of bed once Nobby gave his ears a little stroke, suddenly very awake. Dressed in a long nightshirt, he grabbed his axe and shield and rushed to the door where Barendil stood looking out into the darkness. As Buck moved, he looked around but couldn’t see Brida anywhere within the cottage.

Guillerme was the last to finally rouse himself, sitting up in his silk pyjamas with a yawn and looking around for the cup of tea that was customarily placed beside his bed by an attendant servant. Even after his time on the road with his companions, he still felt a little surprised each time he woke up to find this hadn’t happened.

Nobby joined Mr. Barendil and headed out into the night. The elf ranger led him confidently forwards into the gloom while the rest of the companions waited in the cottage doorway. Kisandra could see the two figures moving away from them with her sharp half-elf eyes, though the world appeared in shades of grey away from the glow emanating from the fire within. Barendil was heading in the direction of the sound; he could tell that the creatures were moving towards the centre of town – presumably towards the stinking dragon corpse. However, as he and Nobby approached, the stench of death intensified. Was it possible that these creatures, whatever they were, smelt even worse than the rapidly decomposing dragon?!

Peering into the darkness as they stalked forwards, Barendil saw several creatures with pale skin slipping between the shadows. These horrific apparitions were moving with a loping gait, shoulders hunched, but looked around themselves with keen animal intelligence. Though they stunk of death, they did not resemble the shambling zombies encountered in Thundertree so far, appearing to have far more self-awareness. One of them stopped to sniff the air and turned to look directly at Barendil and Nobby, clearly having detected their scent.

A small group of ghouls searching for a
meal of dragon flesh in Thundertree

Barendil recognised these monsters. They were ghouls, vicious corpse-eaters, infused with abyssal energy to keep them in a state of unliving even after death, driven by an insatiable desire for flesh. He called back a warning to Kisandra and the others.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Buck, “I thought we cleaned this place out!”

It appeared that the ghouls had been drawn into the town from the surrounding forest, following the stench of dead dragon which had become so pervasive that even the less-attuned noses of the humans could smell it throughout the small town. Who knew wat other denizens of the forest might also be drawn to Thundertree for a meal of dragon flesh…

For now, the ghouls needed to be dealt with and so Barendil told Nobby to fire his crossbow as the elf drew his bow. Unfortunately, Nobby couldn’t see so well in the dark and so his bolt flew wide. Barendil was more successful, hitting one of the ghouls with an enchanted arrow that spread a hail of thorns in all directions, spraying the nearby abominations with piercing missiles. Satisfied with his bowmanship, Barendil displayed uncharacteristic cowardice and ran away from the ghouls. Nobby looked up in surprise as he finished digging a finger deep into his cavernous nostril, looking around and realising he was standing alone in front of the undead monsters.  

Kisandra moved forwards towards where Nobby was stood so that she could make out the figures of the ghouls ahead of him and fired a Magic Missile spell which slammed magical darts of energy into two of the ghouls. Though they were battered by Kisandra and Barendil’s attacks, the ghouls had the scent of human(ish) flesh in their nostrils and scampered forward, surrounding Nobby with desperate hunger in their eyes. Nobby couldn’t help but feel like he had been ruthlessly offered up as a sacrifice by Mr. Barendil, but figured the ranger probably had some sort of plan in place. Probably…

Filthy, sharp claws reached out towards Nobby, attempting to pin him down, but he was too slippery for three of the beasts. One of them managed to scratch his arm, drawing blood, but the rogue was able to shake off the paralysing effects of the ghoul’s talons – Nobby had been exposed to far more virulent substances in the past.

Friar Buck decided that it would be most sensible to cast Shield of Faith on himself, to provide more protection than his nightshirt provided, then circled around to prepare to attack the ghouls as soon as he saw an opening. Finally joining the others, Guillerme tried to shoot his crossbow into the darkness but the shot went wild. Though he had decided to stand as far away from the fighting as he could, he had heard Nobby’s cry of pain when he was attacked and so placed a Shield of Faith on his companion to afford him some additional protection against the predations of the ghouls.

For his part, Nobby thrust his rapier into the face of what appeared to be the leader of the ghouls, stabbing straight through and dropping the monster to the ground. He deftly drew his sword free and slipped away from the other ghouls, retreating into the shadows near to where Buck was standing. Barendil shot another arrow directly into the group of ghouls, which again spread a Hail of Thorns in all directions – Nobby hoped that Mr. Barendil only did this because he had vacated the area, but it was hard to tell. Another ghoul was dispatched by the magical thorns.   

Kisandra fired another Magic Missile at the two remaining ghouls as they began to run towards her – once again, Barendil had skipped backwards, away from the evil creatures. The ghouls struck at Kisandra with their claws, causing her Staff of Defence to glow brightly and envelop the sorceress in a Shield that deflected one of the blows. Unfortunately, the second ghoul managed to rake her with its claws, scratching Kisandra but failing to cause her any other ill effects. At that moment, a shrieking vision in white came rushing towards the combat, but it wasn’t a ghost, it was merely Buck in his flowing nightgown. The cleric swung his axe, decapitating the ghoul that had just wounded Kisandra and positioning himself to help defend her against the final remaining abomination.

Feeling that he couldn’t be outdone by Buck, again, Guillerme also rushed forwards, the silk of his pyjamas swishing as he closed the distance. Perhaps he was distracted as he realised that Buck’s nightshirt was somewhat translucent in the glow emanating from the cleric’s magical axe or perhaps Guillerme felt some chafing from his pyjamas, realising that perhaps they weren’t 100% silk as he had been told; either way, the swing with his glaive went wide. It was up to Nobby to finish off the final ghoul, so he sidled up behind it and stuck his rapier through the nape of its neck. He seemed nonplussed about the distraction of Buck’s nightshirt. The party congratulated one another on a team effort in defeating these enemies.

With the ghouls dealt with, the party returned to Brida’s hut to sleep for a few more hours before morning. They discussed what to do about the dragon corpse, which would likely attract more scavengers over time, but Buck was more concerned about the rotting dragon head that Guillerme had kept as a trophy – the cleric felt that it made them a target for any hungry beasts in the wilds. The rest of the party didn’t share his concerns quite so keenly, and Guillerme kept quiet to not draw attention to the matter.

“We should hang that thing outside at least,” said Buck, pointing at the head. “I’m not getting out of bed again if another pack of ghouls turn up to eat it!” And with that, the Friar went to bed and was soon snoring once again. 

 

Back on the Road

The rest of the night passed without incident. In the morning, the party awoke and saw a barn owl fly in through the chimney as the sun began to shine through the windows of the cottage. Landing on the hearth rug, the owl turned back into Brida the druid, who picked up a cup of water and nodded to the party before asking them what had happened outside during the night. They explained the encounter with the ghouls.

“Ah, I was afraid of that,” said the druid, “that dragon is really going to start stinking up the place. That’s why I was away during the night – I was searching for assistance to help bury the carcass. Fortunately, I found a couple of bears in the forest that are happy to come and help bury the corpse on the outskirts of the town, which should help reduce the attraction to scavengers. Frankly, you were lucky it was just a few ghouls that came looking for food, it could have been far worse…”

Pleased that things were settled in Thundertree, for now at least, the party thanked Brida for their assistance and Barendil buffed a brooch on his cloak and nodded at the druid. Noticing the gesture, Kisandra asked him what he had there.

“Well, I didn’t want to make Buck jealous,” began Barendil, “but Brida gave me this lovely clasp for my cloak and inducted me into the Emerald Enclave. The Enclave is made up of druids, rangers and the like, who work to maintain the balance between nature and civilisation, and I’m certainly proud to be amongst their number!”

Nobby shook his head – he never got given anything nice, he always had to take it for himself. But, looking round the room, it seemed that everyone liked Brida so he took the few trinkets out of his pockets that he had been planning on stealing and put them back where he found them. It seemed like the right thing to do.  

Barendil's brooch, denoting his
membership of the Emerald Enclave

The party departed Thundertree, proud of their efforts to liberate the town. They began to march down the road, very conscious of where Guillerme and his stinking dragon head was in relation to the wind direction. There was no interruption to their march during the first day, and they made good progress along the High Road. That night, they discussed whether they should light a fire or not – on the one hand, Guillerme’s pack might draw in more scavengers, that a fire could scare off. But, on the other hand, a fire would make them more conspicuous in the darkness. In the end, the group agreed to light a fire, which paid off as they kept warm and nothing attacked during the night.

During the next day, as they walked down the road they heard a series of noises coming from the trees to the west of the road. A series of hoots and whistles were coming from somewhere in the wood, and they a0ppeared to be getting closer. It seemed likely that whatever was making the noise was likely to intercept the party while they were on the road. Kisandra, Barendil and Nobby moved swiftly to the cover of the trees on the opposite side of the road from where the noise was coming from, while the ranger sent Perry flying high to keep a lookout. The bird had returned the previous day from sending their messages to Phandalin but had carried no replies.

Buck and Guillerme were slower to get into the cover of the treeline and, as they watched, a group of feathered beasts burst from the foliage on the other side of the road. Six lithe, green bodies with powerful legs under them darted forwards, using feathered wings to stabilise themselves as they ran. Long, snapping orange beaks hissed and spat at the adventurers as these reptilian and avian hybrids swung round and flocked towards them.

Hybrid reptilian/avian creatures burst
from the trees and onto the High Road

Friar Buck rubbed the magic ring that he had been gifted by Santa during their wintery adventure through the portal in White Willow Farm, feeling the way that it unlocked his mind to a greater understanding of what these creatures were doing. His intuition told him that these creatures were hungry predators and that they had been following a scent for some days – a scent they had now found. When Buck mentioned this to the group, they all looked disapprovingly at Guillerme and shook their heads in annoyance.

There was nothing for it, they would have to fight these predators. Kisandra empowered a Magic Missile with additional arcane energy, sending four force darts zooming out from her hiding spot in the trees to smack into the flanks of two of the creatures. Nobby followed this up with a crossbow bolt that flew wide as the raptors whooped and rushed forwards, swarming Buck and Guillerme who were still out in the open. One of the creatures leapt at Buck, aided by its fellows that were snapping at his ankles, and bit deep into his arm. The force of the attack also pushed the cleric over onto his back as he desperately tried to fend off the three savage beasts and, as he fell down, a jolt of lightning surged back at his attacker and made the creature stagger backwards, its feathers standing on end.

The other three beasts attacked Guillerme, with two of them snapping and slashing at the paladin, tearing chunks from his skin. He was also knocked to the ground. Barendil’s attempt to shoot one of his attackers failed as the beasts were moving in a frenzy to try and finish off the paladin. As he attempted to stand up, Guillerme dropped his guard and was set upon by two of the beasts once again who slashed and snapped at him, injuring the paladin further. Breathing hard, Guillerme swayed and cast Shield of Faith on himself to provide some more protection from the raptors, then smashed his glaive down onto the head of one of the beasts. It took much of his remaining strength, but the creature’s head was cleaved into two halves by the swinging polearm and it dropped, dead, to the ground.

Buck remained on the ground, fending off the raptor beaks while he murmured a prayer to Kord before holding his sacred symbol aloft and lashing out with a Thunderwave that threw one of the beasts backwards with such thunderous force that it broke its back on a tree across the road. The other two, however, stood their ground as the thunder buffeted them and were prepared to strike as Buck leapt daringly to his feet. Unfortunately for the cleric, these two raptors managed to leap on to him and bite down, hard. One of them hit a vital point and blood sprayed from Buck as he fell, crashing to the ground. As he slipped into unconsciousness, his final thought was of Droop the goblin and the realisation that they must have left the poor little creature in Thundertree when they marched out of the ruined town the previous day.

Watching Buck fall, Kisandra knew that the only way to save him was to kill the remaining raptors, fast. She threw a Magic Missile at them, lifting two raptors off their feet as they were thrown backwards and killed by the small force bolts. Nobby decided to help Guillerme out once again, though his sword was less accurate than normal, and he was unable to hit the feathered beast in front of him. In a dramatically uncharacteristic bout of self-sacrifice, Nobby actually interposed himself between the beast and the paladin, in an effort to protect his severely wounded companion. The sight of this surprised the rest of the party, but Guillerme was clearly grateful.

Nobby was rewarded for his bravery as the raptor failed to bite the slippery rogue – perhaps the beast was just as surprised as everybody else by his actions. The last beast ran forwards to Kisandra, having seen her kill several of its flock, but it was unable to bite her effectively. Barendil tried to kill the beast that was attacking the sorceress, but again his aim was off and the arrow flew off into the trees.

Having had a slight reprieve thanks to Nobby, Guillerme fought all his natural instincts that suggested he should save his skin and run away into the woods. Instead, he bravely remained next to the rogue, but decided to use his healing Lay on Hands ability to recuperate slightly, with the expectation that he could help Nobby fight the beast better if he was less injured.

Buck, lying face down in the dust, groaned and moved slightly. He wasn’t quite dead yet, but he was a long way from standing up. Meanwhile, Kisandra had a raptor in her face, so she charged up her hand and delivered a punishing Shocking Grasp to the beast, singing its feathers and driving it back slightly. She felt surprisingly powerful using this sort of destructive magic up close and personal for a change.

On the road, Nobby looked over at Buck, wondering what he should do. He wanted to help the cleric to his feet, but he also had a raptor in front of himself to worry about… as if struck by a flash of inspiration, he suddenly felt like he could hear Buck’s voice in his head, saying ‘kill the abomination’. So he did, stabbing the beast through the heart with his rapier. As it dropped to the ground, he wondered if it was Buck’s voice in his head again, asking him for the kiss of life, or whether that was just what Nobby wanted to hear. Either way, he looked over at the prone cleric and raised his eyebrows.

One final raptor beast remained. Barendil threw down his bow and rushed in with his sword raised but had no more luck with that weapon than he had with his bow – for some reason he was finding it difficult to hit these speedy creatures. His bad luck was as nothing compared to Guillerme, however, who ran over to try and hit the same beast but tripped over a tree root and caught his arm on one of the spikes on its tail.

Kisandra shook her head at Guillerme before summoning more electrical energy into her hand and grasping the creature’s head. This time, she didn’t let go. The beast writhed and sparked, screeching as loud as it could before it finally stopped moving all together. She looked down at the dead animal and considered the behaviour of these creatures; there was something in it that she recognised. Then, it came to her – these raptors acted just as a textbook example of a pack of wolves. The coordinated attacks, swift and powerful lunges to knock their opponents down. They certainly looked nothing alike, but she now saw the resemblance was uncanny.

Shaking his head, Barendil apologised to the group for his performance during the battle. He felt sorely ashamed of his inability to hit the creatures and felt responsible for the injuries suffered by Buck and Guillerme. Wandering over to the fallen cleric, Barendil shoved Nobby out the way before he could complete whatever ‘first aid’ he was attempting, and instead drew on his magical knowledge to bring Buck back from the brink of death. The Friar sat up slowly, blinking his eyes. He was starting to feel better, but he ached all over.

They continued onwards along the road for a short time, but the light was fading, and Buck’s strength was sapped. As the party made camp that night, Buck took Guillerme to one side.

“I understand your need to improve your standing with your father,” began Buck, “but that thing is going to get us killed. Is there nothing we can do?”

Guillerme indicated down the road and said that they were almost at Phandalin, he could almost see it in the distance. He begged with Buck to be patient and apologised for the injuries suffered by the cleric, but he really did not want to give up the dragon head trophy.

“I’ll tell you what,” pleaded Guillerme, “I promise, I will owe each of you a reasonably good favour when this is done.”

In response to the look on Buck’s face, the paladin pressed on.

“I come from a long line of people where, well, you know, a reasonably good favour is actually quite good in the scheme of things,” Guillerme said without a hint of irony.  

By this time, the rest of the party had wondered over to the pair, looking with incredulity at Guillerme. Yet still he continued.

“I am indebted to you all,” he said as he looked around at the group. “To a degree.”

Not understanding their quizzical looks, Guillerme nodded his head cheerfully and wandered over to his bed roll to settle down for the night.

Before heading to his own bed, Buck thanked Nobby sincerely and congratulated him for his bravery in the previous battle.

“Perhaps Kord favours you, my son,” said the Friar as he shook Nobby’s oddly moist hand.

The adventurers slept beneath the stars that night and, in the morning, completed the rest of their journey to Phandalin. 


Errands in Phandalin

The party wandered back into the familiar town of Phandalin. Perry had delivered their messages to the chosen recipients but had not returned with any replies. The party were therefore a little cautious as they walked into the town, with Buck wondering if everything was well in Phandalin – but they couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary as they strolled down the road in the morning sun.

They discussed how to approach their business within the town – there were a number of people that they wanted to talk to about current events as well as a substantial quantity of treasure that Nobby wanted to fence. There was also the issue of the stinking dragon head that Guillerme carried, as well as their desire to get some useful items fabricated from the other parts of the dragon that they had harvested. Not to mention Nobby’s aspirations regarding a certain fashion item related to a water-dwelling rodent…

Though there was a lot of business to attend to, particularly in reporting back to their factions and ensuring the safety of Thundertree now that they had liberated the town, the adventurers also wanted to make haste to Cragmaw Castle now that they had its location. Despite this, they decided to remain largely together as a single group, particularly as they approached Edermath Orchard to report to Daran and find out what the Order of the Gauntlet recommended. Buck and Barendil led the way, and Guillerme ran up to them asking them to slow down.

They looked at him sideways, expecting that he would have hurried on to Sildar’s to talk about Lord’s Alliance business, but Guillerme was under the impression that he was a member of the Order of the Gauntlet. Holding their hands up, the cleric and ranger showed him their signet rings and reminded him of the courier that had caught up to them the last time they left the town – he had carried a Gauntlet signet ring for each of them, but not one for Guillerme. He had been sent a gold Lord’s Alliance ring by Sildar, but because he was unsure about how his allegiances might be split if he joined the second group, he had never formally accepted the invitation to join. He looked a little dejected, but Barendil put his arm around the paladin and told him not to worry, he was sure that Daran would let him in now – after all, the Order of the Gauntlet prized teamwork and cooperation highly, so the more the merrier as far as Barendil understood it.

All of the adventurers had now joined at least one faction, apart from Nobby. The only place he had ever really felt he belonged was in The Watch, but that felt like a long time ago now. His companions didn’t know whether he wasn’t interested in joining any larger factions here on the Sword Coast, or whether he wasn’t considered to have the ‘right stuff’ for them, but he had proved to be a useful (if occasionally irritating) member of their party and had certainly contributed his fair share to their achievements to date.  

Buck, Barendil, Kisandra and Guillerme's
tokens of allegiance

Edermath Orchard

Presently, they arrived at Daran Edermath’s orchard. The old adventurer was pleased to see the party returned and he greeted them warmly. He confirmed that he had indeed received Barendil’s letter and had spent time setting various wheels in motion to help the adventurers. Daran had felt it more important to prepare rather than take time trying to contact them as they journeyed back from Thundertree. 

Daran Edermath waiting patiently in his orchard

He had requested a smith all the way from the Order’s hold in Waterdeep, who had arrived early that morning and was ready to produce the artifacts they desired, should they have the coin to buy the materials required. The Order of the Gauntlet would help but did not have the spare funds to pay for these expensive items. There were no men to spare for helping storm Cragmaw Castle – the adventurers were on their own with that one.

Barendil updated Daran with the news from Thundertree – that the dragon corpse was drawing in scavengers, but Brida was burying it with bear assistance. They had encountered a little trouble on the road but dealt with the creatures that attacked them.

“I’m very pleased with your progress,” Daran said, “and certainly your brave actions in Thundertree have been in accordance with the edicts of the Order of the Gauntlet so I thank you for your service. While you are new to this road of chivalry, both of you should be commended and word of your actions will spread through the Order – keep this up and you will soon be awarded higher rank, respect and reward for your service!”

Buck looked at Daran and said, with some indignation, “You read the bit in the letter about us killing a dragon, right?”

“Yes, of course,” replied Daran, taking another nonchalant swig from his mug of cider.

“Before we go, Daran,” began Barendil, “I must say that Guillerme here, though he was initially reticent to join the Order, has shown as much bravery and chivalry as the rest of us and I would put his name forward as a worthy member of the Order of the Gauntlet, now that he knows it will not conflict with his other responsibilities.”   

Edermath nodded with understanding and said, “That is good to know, I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I will pass that on to my superiors to confirm, but I imagine they would be pleased for another of your party to join and help protect the people of the Sword Coast.”

Buck and Barendil reporting in to Daran Edermath

Draining his mug of cider, Barendil nodded to Daran in appreciation and turned to leave.

“I’ll return to the tavern,” he said to his companions, “and see you all for a hearty meal this evening.”

Nobby sidled forwards, looking to get his mug of cider refilled as the others left the orchard. Kisandra said that she wanted to see SIldar before visiting Sister Garaele – Guillerme of course had a lot to talk to him about, and Buck was keen to join them too. Barendil said it was on the way to the pub anyway so he would come along. Nobby hiccupped. 


Sildar Halwinter

Sildar had sent himself up comfortably in the Townmaster’s Hall. He welcomed the companions into his chambers and offered them some libations, which they happily accepted. Buck took note of the keg of ale on a side table, while Kisandra noticed the map spread out next to that keg. She eagerly rushed to examine the map, but found it contained no additional details when compared to their own map.  

Sildar has made himself quite comfortable
in Phandalin

Sildar's keg of ale and unrolled map are of interest
to different members of the party

“So, what news?” asked the Lord’s Alliance representative.

Guillerme explained the situation in Thundertree, building on the letter he had sent to Sildar. He explained his concerns about there being a power vacuum in Thundertree now, for instance allowing the influx of ghouls that they had dealt with. The town had no defence against anyone else moving in.

“What I’m asking,” said the paladin, “is whether the Order provide some sort of garrison for Thundertree so more gentlefolk may be able to come back?”

“Well, we are more of an Alliance than an Order, remember, we leave that kind of religious nut-jobbery to Daran Edermath and his mates,” said SIldar, “but, having said that, I must say that you have done a great job in Thundertree and have achieved far more than I ever thought you would.”

Guillerme looked suitably proud of the praise as Sildar continued, “I am particularly interested in this talk of a three-headed dragon you mentioned in your letter, what were you talking about…?”

Kisandra interjected at this point, much to Guillerme’s relief, to let Sildar know that he must have meant Tiamat and had left out two of the heads when he wrote his letter.

“Tiamat!” exclaimed Sildar, “are you seriously suggesting that these cultists are looking to raise Tiamat from the Nine Hells?!”

Kisandra nodded her head. “That’s what they told us,” she affirmed.

“Well, that is obviously something we will have to look at in the future,” replied Sildar, “as we obviously can’t allow that to happen. But, more immediately, I am very glad to hear that you have located Cragmaw Castle. I have been looking through the maps and records here and been unable to find it anywhere. My suspicion is that this isn’t the original name of the castle and that the Cragmaw goblins have taken up residence in some older keep which had been abandoned – which is why I haven’t been able to find it.”

Kisandra helpfully suggested comparing maps to ascertain which abandoned castle had been taken over by the goblins, which SIldar agreed was a sensible thing to do. He took note of the location of Cragmaw Castle as they had it so that he could look into it later on.

Guillerme reporting to Sildar Halwinter

“So, you’ll come and help us win the castle back?” asked Guillerme hopefully.

“No,” replied Sildar firmly. He saw the expression on Guillerme’s face and continued, “because I agree entirely with your appraisal of the situation in Thundertree. I have already sent messengers to gather some troops, but I will be leaving this afternoon to secure the town.”

“What about the repopulation of the town once it is secure?” asked Kisandra.

“Oh, that will happen,” said Sildar, “that will happen.”

Guillerme cut in to ask Sildar who the mayor of Thundertree was. He couldn’t remember off the top of his head and said that he would have to check the records, but he was certain that the mayor was dead.

Barendil then chipped in to tell Sildar about the raptors that they had encountered on the road back to Phandalin, pointing out where the corpses lay on Sildar’s map. The ranger was concerned about the rotting corpses attracting scavengers, so told Sildar to watch out as he travelled up to Thundertree.  

“I appreciate your warning Master Elf, but perhaps you will clean up your own dead bodies next time?” replied Sildar.

“We were tired…” began Barendil with a little whine to his voice.

Guillerme asked one last time to confirm with Sildar that he wouldn’t be helping them personally at Cragmaw Castle, because he was doing to Thudertree.

“Indeed,” said Sildar, “I can do many things, but I can’t be in two places at once.”

The paladin nodded and seemed to finally accept the reality of the situation, before asking one final question.

“Is there a taxidermist or good butcher in town?” he asked. 

Sildar confirmed that there was a dwarf who ran a small shop – pun not intended he said hurriedly as he noticed Barendil’s shoulders shake with laughter – which should serve Guillerme’s purpose. The dwarf was proficient in making all sorts of items out of pelts and hides, stuffing animals for trophies and things like that. Kisandra asked Sildar if this dwarf would be able to make a man-sized beaver suit. He couldn’t think why anyone would waste their coin on a man-sized beaver suit, but he expected that the dwarf would be able to do it easily enough. They looked over at Nobby, who just grinned.

“On a more serious note, there are previous residents of Thundertree living here in Phandalin,” Kisandra said, “could you ensure they have a voice in the rebuilding process?”

Sildar was unaware of this and was surprised to hear Mirna Dendrar was originally from Thundertree.  

“I’ll make a note, thank you for bringing it to my attention. I agree with you, it’s important to talk to these people. The Lord’s Alliance has plenty of money and resources to rebuild the town, but it should be done with respect to those families who were displaced in the tragedy that befell the town. I’ll look into it, personally,” promised Sildar. 

Guillerme nodded appreciatively at Kisandra, trying to indicate that he was just about to say that. She knew better but she just nodded back, she was pleased to hear what Sildar said. She now decided it was time to go and talk to Sister Garaele to relay the new intelligence she had for the Harpers. 


The Shrine of Luck

Kisandra slipped off alone to talk to Garaele in private, walking into the Shrine of Luck with her pseudodragon following close behind. The priestess greeted her warmly as Kisandra marvelled at the beautiful stonework; it never failed to take her breath away. Garaele boiled water to make Kisandra a cup of tea, and the two women sat down to talk.

Garaele sat, quietly sipping her tea, as Kisandra relayed a full and frank account of her experiences in Thundertree and her impressions of what that might mean. The thoroughness of the sorceress’s recollections impressed the more experienced Harper immensely, and she was especially pleased to hear of the way that Kisandra had talked productively with Sildar about involving previous residents of Thundertree – and the positive response she received from him.

“Very, very wise,” said Garaele. “The Lord’s Alliance do tend to have their hearts in the right place, but they do need to be watched sometimes. There is a tendency for everything to turn into numbers and coin, forgetting that people are at the heart of the matter. That’s where we can come in, looking out for those people – exactly as you have done, which is excellent.”

“Sildar is aware of Mirna and her children, but there may be other previous Thundertree residents that he is unaware of,” said Kisandra.

Garaele assured her that she would check if there were any such people and would contact Sildar directly if necessary. She would also ensure someone from the Harpers discreetly kept an eye on the restoration of Thundertree, exactly as Kisandra had quite rightly suggested.

“You have done fantastic work my dear, you’re going to go far!” said Garaele with a proud smile on her face.

 

Kisandra talking to Sister Garaele at
the Shrine of Luck in Phandalin

Further to this, Kisandra asked Sister Garaele about the dragon harvesting that the rest of the party had been engaged in. Garaele was well aware of the smith that had been brought to the town by the Order of the Gauntlet – that sort of thing was impossible to do without Harper agents noticing. She was confident that this man would be able to help Kisandra’s friends. Other than that, Garaele simply had some words of caution regarding the other body parts that had been harvested.

“There are so many rumours about the potency of various body parts of all sorts of animals and beasts, whether magical or mundane. It’s one of the reason that so many of these creatures are so near to extinction. Much of it is total rubbish, but some of it is not… it depends on the specific rituals and how deeply into the dark magic you want to delve.”

Kisandra nodded her head and the two women continued talking and drinking their tea within the calm atmosphere of the Luck Shrine.


Bearnivig Blackhammer

While Kisandra sat with Garaele, Buck made his way to the blacksmith’s forge with Guillerme and Nobby following close behind. As he approached, he saw a mountain of a man, broad-chested and leaning casually on the haft of an enormous hammer made of some sort of black rock. Sweat glistened on his bulging muscles and he stroked his blonde beard as the cleric got closer. He seemed larger than life, and so completely at home within this forge as to almost be a part of it, or for the forge to be an extension of his formidable body. He smiled genially at Buck.

Bearnivig Blackhammer, a huge man,
stands at ease by the forge

“Hail and well met,” Friar Buck greeted the smith merrily. “I am somewhat of a smith myself, but I am told you are the expert in your field – which is just as well, for we have something special to work on. Dragon scales, from a dragon slain by our own hands. We would be most appreciative if you could fashion a shield from these scales.”  

“Welcome friend,” says the giant man, “I am Bearnivig Blackhammer, and I was sent here by my masters in the Order of the Gauntlet to assist you. I am most impressed to hear of this dragon slaying, I congratulate you on the effort. Now, the blacksmith here in the town was kind enough to let me use his forge, which I find well appointed, so I am at your disposal.”

Given the size of the man standing in front of him, Buck didn’t imagine that the incumbent blacksmith had much of a say in the matter. The cleric drew the scales out from his pack and showed them to Bearnivig, along with a rough sketch of how he imagined the shield might look. He was particularly keen to include a symbol of Kord as a boss on the front of the shield, a suggestion that Bearnivig thought was excellent. He nodded his head that this could certainly be achieved, and would make a fine shield for Buck to use. Inevitably, the conversation had to turn towards money and how much this was going to cost.

“Well…” began Blackhammer, “these things aren’t cheap, I am afraid. Working with dragon scales, there aren’t many blacksmiths that can do it, that’s why I was drafted in here at very short notice from Waterdeep – and at no little expense. In addition to this, there are some rare and expensive materials required to properly bond the dragon scales together. It is going to cost four thousand gold.”

“I’m sorry, did you say 400?” asked Buck.

“No. Four thousand.”

Buck was taken aback by this, wondering how in the world they would afford such a sum. Nobby took advantage of the lull in conversation to sidle up to the blacksmith and get involved.

“’Ere, mate, how are your cobbling skills?” asked the rogue. “You know, making boots and such?”

 “Cobbling? I am a blacksmith!” roared Bearnivig, “I am no woman with a needle and thread… cobbler, ha! Why do you think I have been brought here, it’s because I am skilled in the use of the forge, not making shoes for little men!”

“Well, it’s all the same innit,” pressed Nobby, “dragon scales, dragon leather… all just making stuff from bits what was on a dragon. I mean, I heard you were pretty good, but if you can’t do it…”

Nobby’s smug look turned towards panic as the blacksmith lifted his mighty hammer and started patting the head into one of his large hands. The haft of the hammer was taller than Nobby, and this huge man lifted it like it was nothing. Nobby turned and walked off, pretending that he had better places to be.

Bearnivig calmed down as Nobby walked off and could see that Buck was struggling to work out the finances.

“Look,” said the big man kindly, “I can see you don’t have the funds. We both work for the Order of the Gauntlet, so I want to help you, but the reality is that you are not the only concern the Order has. There are other things happening along the Sword Coast and beyond that require attention, that is part of the reason that this cannot be provided for free. However, Daran Edermath is very well respected within the Order, and when he received your urgent message for assistance, he sent one of the fastest hippogriffs in the Order’s stables to collect me from Waterdeep and bring me here. I dropped everything and left immediately. If you talk to Daran, he may be able to help further.”

Buck assured Bearnivig that they very much appreciated his coming at such short notice, he was just concerned as he had not realised the high cost involved and didn’t want the smith’s trip to be in vain. He suggested possibly providing a down payment so Bearnivig could commence work on the shield and the party could settle the balance later.

“Talk to Daran,” said the smith, “I am sure he mentioned that he wanted something doing, which may help with the cost.”

Buck looked interested so the smith elaborated that there was an artifact owned by a hero of the Order of the Gauntlet that had been lost in a crypt somewhere nearby – Daran had the location mapped. As far as Bearnivig understood, the Order would be willing to cover 2,500 gold if the party recovered this item as there would be a substantial saving on not needing to hire a mercenary band to do it. That would leave a balance of just 1,500 gold to pay, and he would be willing to start work straight away, which should take no longer than six or seven days by his reckoning. 

Blackhammer makes an interesting
proposition to the party

Taxidermists R Us

Nobby was delegated to do the shopping – for some reason, he was still the one entrusted by the group to manage their finances. He sold off much of the treasure and precious items that they had acquired, some to Barthen’s Provisions and a good selection of precious and semi-precious stones to the Miner’s Exchange. He also had a long list of provisions and equipment to buy, so he did his best to acquire that. While he was there, he asked after the Rockseeker brothers once again, but still no one had heard anything about the dwarfs. Once that was all out of the way, he could get down to his exciting business and so he followed the instructions from Daran to find the small taxidermy shop on one of the side streets in Phandalin. He was rubbing his hands with glee as he turned down the street and was surprised to see the entire rest of the party was already there, waiting at the window of the shop. None of them seemed to want to go in, but they were all grinning as Nobby approached the door. 

Thorgild Stoutfellow minds his small shop
without a care in the world

“Wotcha, how you doing mate?” said Nobby cheerfully as he strode in through the door.

A well-dressed old dwarf stood behind a counter and welcomed Nobby with a little bow. In a polite and quiet voice, he said, “Welcome to my shop, what can I do for you this fine day?”

Nobby was distracted so didn’t answer him straight away. “You have some amazing eyebrows,” he said with wonder.

“Oh, well, kind of you to say,” stammered the dwarf, not sure what to say. “Tell me, do you have some dwarven blood in you, there is something rather… abhuman… about you.”

Nobby looked quite proud at the question and wandered over to lean on the counter. Fortunately, the dwarf was a taxidermist by trade so the odour didn’t affect him like it often did to other people. Nobby slid over his ‘masterpiece’ so that the dwarf could see what he wanted.

“What would it take to get this made?” asked Nobby. “I’ve got a load of beaver pelts and a genius idea here, let’s do it!”

Spluttering into his beard, the dwarf couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

“What is that?” he exclaimed.

Nobby initially tried to pretend it was for his niece’s birthday, but the dwarf, being a consummate professional, regained his composure. He said it was one of the strangest commissions he had ever seen, but it could be done. He thought the construction of the suit would require around 20 beaver pelts, which he would normally buy for 2 gold pieces from the trappers and would take 4 or 5 days. The cost of making it would be around 30 gold. Nobby nodded and asked if it would be any quicker if he were to put 50 gold in the dwarf’s hand, causing an exclamation of outrage from his companions looking in through the window! But, as with all dwarfs, this one didn’t miss the opportunity for a bargain and confirmed he could do it in three days for 50 gold.

The pair settled on the price. Nobby provided the 20 pelts for the suit, plus another 10 pelts to cover part of the payment. That left 30 gold to pay. He also handed over a couple of sapphires that he wanted mounted as eyes on the beaver suit. As he did so, he asked the dwarf if he had seen a piece of Luggage running around on a load of tiny feet. The dwarf raised his bushy eyebrows – he had thought he had seen it all, until this bizarre human had come into his shop asking for a huge beaver suit and talking about walking furniture. It was only the cool feel of the gold in his hand that kept the dwarf calm.  

Nobby reveals his masterpiece to the dwarf

The party looked on in amazement at this spectacle. They gradually realised the cost of what Nobby was doing – essentially, spending their hard-earned collective treasure on a fever dream he had scrawled on a piece of paper. Buck wasn’t worried, as he didn’t value material wealth. Barendil was also happy enough; he didn’t exactly approve, but he had seen Nobby grow during their time together and figured that, if this was what the guy wanted, that was OK with him. Guillerme stayed quiet, hopping from one foot to another with excitement, waiting for his turn to enter the shop with his dragon head. Kisandra shook her head with bewilderment, not impressed at all, but as far as Nobby was concerned, he felt that he had earned this by being the one who was responsibly looting bodies and fencing the treasure whenever they were back in town. He reckoned he deserved it because he was the one making all the money for them in the first place.

As he was turning to leave, Nobby suddenly remembered the other reason he was here, and he pulled out the blue dragon skin that he had acquired from Stormfang and slapped it onto the counter. The dwarf whistled through his teeth and rubbed the supple hide, marvelling at its softness and striking colour.

“Here, what do you think of that?” asked Nobby. “Premium dragonhide that is, and I’m looking to have some boots made out of it… but not any boots, mind you, the fanciest boots you’ve ever seen. Toes curling round like there’s no tomorrow, I want these things to be like winkle pickers on steroids!”

The dwarf nodded with understanding.

“This is the loveliest hide I’ve ever felt,” he said, “I would love to work on this. Boots, you say? Yes, yes… hmmmmm… well, for such a commission, 450 gold I would say.”

Nobby was taken aback and Kisandra let out an involuntary yelp as she read the dwarf’s lips from outside the window. He tried to suggest a deal where he paid for the beaver suit but got the boots for free, though that was clearly never going to fly – particularly when trying to bargain with a dwarf!

“Is there anything you desire… besides financial payment?” tried Nobby, with a look of feigned innocence on his face.

“I am not sure what you are getting at,” replied the taxidermist, “but I am a happily married dwarf!”

After some unconvincing bartering by Nobby, they eventually settled on a combined figure of 450 gold for the boots and beaver suit together. Nobby shrugged and figured that would do, he would deal with any potential consequences later. He turned to the window with a slow wink and a thumbs up to indicate to his companions that everything was going according to plan. But he did keep his body between the counter and the window as he tallied up the coins to hand to the dwarf.

As he walked happily out of the shop, Nobby was feeling good about this. He was getting some fancy boots and a beaver suit, what more could a scruff from Ankh Morpork desire?

“You guys are lucky,” he said to the party outside the shop, “I made us a good couple of hundred gold selling the gems and things we found.”

There was some confusion as they were sure that the treasure haul should have been worth more than that, particularly Kisandra who seemed to have often taken it upon herself to keep an eye on Nobby’s dealings of late. But, other than Buck half-heartedly asking for a receipt, they didn’t question the rogue further and he provided no more details.

Guillerme excitedly pushed past him and into the shop.

“My good, uh, fellow, apologies for my strange companion, my needs are much more simple,” he said. Guillerme continued in a flurry of excitement. “All I need is the premium plus service: the boil, polish and wash for dragon heads. If you can do that quickly for me that would be appreciated. And, tell me, do you accept the Château d’Lyonne loyalty discount card?”    

The dwarf behind the counter looked confused. “Château d’Lyonne loyalty discount card?” he asked, “never heard of it. Never heard of the Château d’Lyonne for that matter!”

He started muttering to himself about out-of-towners coming in and throwing strange ideas around, and how it had been such a busy day with two customers coming in for commissions. He felt rushed off his feet. But, getting back to business, he was very impressed by the dragon head that Guillerme deposited on the counter and confirmed he could strip the flesh and polish the skull in 3 days or so, at a cost of sixty gold. Guillerme seemed to think this was reasonable enough but continued trying to press his loyalty card on the dwarf. From what he could tell, the card that this strange paladin was thrusting under his nose was just a scrap of paper with some poorly spelled handwritten message about ‘reasonable’ trading opportunities with the Château d’Lyonne. Guillerme’s sales patter wasn’t going to convince this thrifty dwarf to accept this card in lieu of gold.

It quickly became evident that Guillerme did not have enough money on his person to pay for the ‘premium plus service’ that he desired. He also asked for the dwarf to arrange transport for the skull back to the Château, which was going to cost an additional 30 gold pieces if it was required on top of the sixty gold for the work – though they could deal with that later.

“Ah, well, I am a little light on funds. Perhaps I can put down a deposit today? What would you accept?” asked Guillerme hopefully.

“Sixty gold,” came the reply.

With nervous laughter Guillerme patted his pockets and looked towards the door.

“Your strange friend paid upfront, in full, sir,” said the dwarf.

Guillerme went to seek Nobby’s help. The rogue laughed at Guillerme’s predicament.

“Oh, how the rich have fallen,” he said with a toothy grin.

Guillerme started to ask Nobby what his share of the current treasure should be, but the rogue just pushed past him and went back into the shop to negotiate. He agreed a combined price of 500 gold for all the work that the dwarf was performing for both members of the party. Nobby tried his best to illicit some additional sales incentive from the dwarf, but the best he could manage was a promise for a round of drinks that evening. Still, that was quite an achievement given the frugal nature of dwarves. 


The Happy Family

Nobby was particularly pleased with himself. He’d sorted out Guillerme’s dragon head problem – he didn’t think Guillerme’s brother Philip would have ever sent home a dragon skull trophy. Plus, he had his beaver suit and blue dragon skin boots on the way. Things were good, so he was absentmindedly picking at his belly button fluff and paying no attention whatsoever to the rest of the party.

The rest of the party was discussing their next errand, which was particularly close to Kisandra’s heart, though they were all keen to return the valuable heirloom to Mirna Dendrar and her family. They had ended up with more than they bargained for in Thundertree when they had travelled to the town, looking for the heirloom, and had managed to keep it safe from the predations of dragons, zombies, ghouls and Nobby’s sticky little fingers. They were all invested in seeing the culmination of this little tale.

They expected to find Mirna and her family at the Stonehill Tavern, but as they were walking in that direction Kisandra spotted the Dendrars outside a small house. She waved to them from across the road and the three of them smiled at her warmly.  

“Oh, hello, how nice to see you again!” Mirna said with delight as she hugged Kisandra. “Please, come in, won’t you have a cup of tea?”

“Perhaps some of my companions should stay outside…” suggested Kisandra, but Mirna would hear none of it. The whole party had saved her and her two children, so she was indebted to them all and glad to see them. She said she couldn’t thank them enough for what they had done to save the family from the evil clutches of the Redbrands.

The party sat around the small table in the tiny parlour, trying not to knock over what few items there were in the room. Mirna served them hot tea from whatever she could find, as she quickly ran out of cups. The atmosphere was jovial already but the rest of the adventurers watched with bated breath as Kisandra reached into her pack. They had been waiting for this moment. The sorceress drew out the gorgeous necklace that they had recovered from Thundertree and handed it to Mirna with reverence, telling her that they all felt that it should be returned to its proper place with her and the children.

“My necklace… by all the gods… have you really brought it back to me?” Mirna said as she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably with the joy of her heirloom being returned. She hugged her children close to her and thanked the adventurers repeatedly, before jumping up and throwing her arms around Kisandra.

“You are a wonderful person, to have done so much for us when we have nothing to give you in return save our thanks and appreciation,” Mirna said. “I can’t believe there is such goodness in this world.”

Kisandra followed on by telling Mirna about the plans that were being put into place by Sildar to rejuvenate Thundertree and that the Dendrars were welcome to have a hand in that. Mirna was overjoyed by the news. She had a nice life in Phandalin with her husband, but now that he was gone, she thought the opportunity to take her children back to her childhood home of Thundertree was an amazing gift. She didn’t know what to say so the adventurers left the family to their private joy and quietly stepped out into the sunlit street. 

Kisandra warmly greeting Mirna
Dendrar and her children

  

The End of a Productive Day

As they left the Dendrar’s modest home, the adventurers walked in silent contemplation, all exceptionally glad in their own way that Kisandra had pushed so hard for them to return the heirloom to Mirna.

“See, Nobby,” said Buck, putting his arm around the rogue’s shoulders, “sometimes it is just good to do the right thing.”

Nobby nodded in acceptance of this point, as even he had been so touched by the emotional event that he found himself putting back the small trinket that he had been planning to steal from Mirna’s house.

Wandering back towards the inn, the party walked past a man tending to a couple of ponies and a bit cart horse, surrounded by crates and barrels. He called over to the adventurers and introduced himself as Saleem, then asked if they wanted to purchase a pack animal. Nobby went to talk to the horse trader and have a look at his wares, but decided that they would need to sleep on the decision. They had, after all, offloaded most of the heavy items they had been carrying, so didn’t see the need for purchasing an animal at the moment – plus, he needed to actually count the amount of coin he still had in his money pouch as it had been a rather expensive day.

A trader offers to sell pack ponies
and draft horses with carts

They continued on to the Stonehill Tavern. This had certainly been quite a long day, but extremely productive. They would all relish a beer and a hearty meal at the tavern.

Once they entered the establishment, Nobby tapped on Guillerme’s shoulder.

“’Ere, Guillerme, I bet you ten gold pieces that I can play you at a game of that Dragonchess you’ve got, and take your king,” Nobby said with surprising confidence.

Guillerme looked a little unsure. It wasn’t so much the playing of the game, as he was fairly confident that he could beat this street urchin at a game of wit and wisdom without difficulty, it was simply the size of the wager. There was a niggling thought that, if he did lose, he had already been shown up once today by Nobby’s financial acumen, and Guillerme simply didn’t have much coin in his pocket. He suggested five gold coins for the wager instead, which Nobby readily accepted.

The paladin pulled the Dragonchess set from his pack and began setting the board and the pieces on a table in the corner of the tavern. After a while, he noticed that there seemed to be no more pieces in the bag but there were two empty squares on the board – one of them being the position that his king should be in (Guillerme always used the white pieces). He searched under the table, in his pack, patted down his pockets; the king was nowhere to be seen. Until he looked up at Nobby. The cheeky little man was holding the white king piece up in front of his face, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll take those five gold pieces please,” said Nobby with a chuckle.

It took a lot of self-control for Guillerme to not hit his companion. He bit his lower lip till it almost drew blood as he pulled the five coins out of his money pouch, one by one. As he did so, he turned to the other members of the party who sat nearby and told them about the encounter he and Nobby had in Thundertree where Guillerme pushed the smaller man up against a tree to tell he what he thought about his actions. Guillerme admitted he would never have told them if he hadn’t already had a couple of drinks inside him, but he wanted to let them know how much of a coward Nobby truly was and how he, Guillerme, could easily best him with fisticuffs but was choosing to be the bigger man and pay the rogue, even though he had clearly cheated.

Guillerme laughed through gritted teeth as he told his companions this story, but was confused when he saw Nobby laughing even harder. It turned out that Nobby was laughing about exactly the same event.

“That's when I got your king piece!” roared Nobby with laughter.

Guillerme shook his head in disbelief. 

The party relax in the Stonehill Tavern

Next - Session 16 ⏩


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