New Halagard

A Second Night at the Museum
Why no guardsmen are expected to keep their mouths shut.

He could have planned it better. He could have been more prepared. Fortunately, any of his own shortcomings were more than made up for by the guards arbitrarily deciding to set everything up for him. Thanks, Kildrak, you conniving dwarf.

He hadn’t had the forethought to read up on some history before coming to the museum, but fortunately he was well-versed enough in the various exhibits to present a decent private tour—he surprised himself with all the little tidbits and anecdotes that he remembered.

The conversation ranged widely over dinner and throughout the night, from the murdered sheriff being cut to ribbons, to talk of magic, to concerns about the Asaatth coming into the city and the chances of him coming into contact with them.

Her familiarity with magic surprised him, as it far surpassed his own—well, except for his exposure to the talents of Donarvan and Bellos. It piqued his curiosity, and though there were many things left unsaid he suspected that something about that had to do with her history with the Lady Valtrissa.

With Bellos as the best wing-man ever, he brought her to the Golden Heart where she had said she’d never stayed. Who else should be there but Kildrak and the others…but Rolan deftly caught the key Bellos tossed him since he had foolishly forgotten to reserve the room himself.

All in all a good night, he decided, all thoughts of the others’ meeting with Lady Valtrissa completely forgotten.

No way was he getting on that genasi ship in two days.

Well…maybe if she asked him to in that sweet, melodious voice, brimming with concern for his well-being.

Or if he—out of sheer luck—was able to convince her to come along.

Catching Wind
And trying to tail the tailers tailing the tails.

temporary words

A Night at the Museum
Fancy parties don't exclude Down Winders

Rolan stared out into the darkness from the Golden Heart, absently turning his new cloak pin over and over in his fingers. It had certainly been an…interesting night.

Cardinal Carras and the cadre of other important folk Wieldstrom had introduced were stifling. There had to be a way to escape. The chamber orchestra struck up the allemande just as he noticed a beautiful woman in a Blue Coat dress uniform standing nearby. Kildrak—either because he noticed Rolan looking or was helping to provide an escape (or for reasons entirely his own)—introduced her as Lieutenant Mosley, and she had the most striking green eyes. After an embarrassingly obtuse invitation to dance (and the beet-red face to go with it), they made their way onto the dance floor and twirled with the best of them.

A slightly louder snore interrupted his train of thought, and he glared at the sleeper before panning his eyes over the streets below once again. He padded silently to the door to listen for footsteps or any sounds across the hall before returning to the window.

She seemed perfectly content to remain on his arm for the evening. He personally showed her the exhibit and introduced her to Donarvan—who gave her the strangest look. Rolan couldn’t decide what to make of it, and then Bellos—Will—was there, chatting her up and using his silver tongue to make the elf seem impressive. That was uncomfortable. “What?” Rolan mouthed at the dragonborn, but Donarvan either didn’t see or couldn’t respond without attracting attention. Everything was going exceptionally well until the last dance. That was when Will linked their minds mid-courante…

Rolan frowned, still disappointed by that turn of events. Now there was no way of knowing where that night would have led had they danced until the end of the party. Though, if Lt. Mosley was associated with the Down Winders as Donarvan had tried to imply (especially since the others had all been followed by men with concealed weapons), he very well might have ended up dead. But at least it would have been fun while it lasted. His scowl deepened as he wondered if Kildrak had noticed anything untoward about his old comrade that he had merely failed to mention.

His temper was rare to flare up, but he suspected that he might be more than a little short-tempered until they could find out what the Down Winders wanted—or at least get them to stop watching so close. And if this supposed Lt. Mosley happened to be involved, he’d deal with that as it came.

Lets make a deal
Raining blood from the Skaei
Clash with the Hot Blood clan in the fields of the Outland Farms

Around a farmhouse ever increasingly going up in flames and screams coming from within, The battle was joined between a reduced patrol of guards accompanied by a Paladin of Torm and Dragonborn Raiders from the Skaei clan. The adventurers, sans halfling, follow on the salamanders granted them by the Kawwat. In a gruelling fight, the adventurers, soldiers and the paladin of Torm trade blows with the Skaei raiders, their superior armor and combat techiques eventuallly overcoming the barbarians in a battlefield clogged with sluggish salamanders.

After the fight, the adventurers compare observations and realize something was strange about the way the leader of the raiders was fighting, employing some sort of odd movement technique. Bellos has a bit of a flashback, and compares the Skaei leader’s style to a crude form of an Asaatth combat technique he witnessed. Unfortunately, the soldiers had already begun burning the bodies before the adventurers realized they needed to examine them.

Walking through the Dragonlands
It rains a lot in Fall, in case you didn't know...

A brief telling from Rolan’s perspective:

We set out from New Halagard at the tenth hour, and enjoyed our single day of travel without rain. Nothing much happened that day or night, but apparently the halfling was hearing things in the night.

A cold front swept in the next day, and thus began torrential rain. I prepared everyone as best I could, but nothing could prevent the soaking we received. At least we weren’t cold and miserable. Just miserable. A little.

We passed a column of the Governor’s soldiers flying his banners on the second day, and the group included some members of the Chessenta family. I led the group off the road and out of the way, but they spotted me. At least they didn’t think I was a threat—I wouldn’t be as good as Donarvan at explaining the situation.

On the third day, we reached the farm lands and decided to cut through the fields rather than pass by Fieldwatch and risk undue attention from the army garrisoned there. We encountered only one man out in the fields in this weather. He declined Kildrak’s help, so we moved on and reached the edge of the ridge just as the sun was setting. We could see the Kawwat village below us, but we thought it might be better to arrive in the daytime, even if it meant spending another night getting soaked by the rain.

Some dragonborn came upon us, curious about where Donarvan was from. After convincing them that we wouldn’t hurt them, they brought us back to the village where we spent the night warm and dry.

My brother, Zeek, came and woke me just after I’d fallen asleep, and we had a chance to catch up. Turned out that the Mailed Fist had been raiding the Kawwat a lot, though their raids have dwindled lately as a number of paladins were recalled to the city. I explained the opportunity that the museum had to offer, and he seemed excited and promised to take that information to the Elders on the Council and get us an audience with them.

Finally I fell asleep and slept like a rock until the fellow Farkus asked us to take out of the city woke us all, screaming bloody murder. There were a few tense moments between Kildrak and this former paladin of Torm, but the Council came to speak with us and I deferred to Donarvan’s way with words. Zeek was particularly excited, and we sparked a great deal of conversation amongst the elders.

In the midst of that, I heard one of the scouts give a call. The guards rushed out and eventually returned with word that they had spotted a Hot Blood raiding party on its way toward the farmlands. Bellos—the former paladin—immediately strode out of the hut and readied the horse I had purchased for the halfling. We caught up with him long enough to determine that he intended to warn the farmers that the raid was coming, not to stop the Hot Bloods all by himself. The halfling abruptly became a bobcat and started loping after Bellos and the horse. The rest of us looked at each other for a moment, unsure if we should have known she could do that.

We explained Bellos’ intentions to the Council. They didn’t want us to fight the Hot Bloods—especially with Donarvan with us as the Hot Bloods might suspect the Kawwat’s involvement—but they supported any measure that could reduce the loss of human life in the farm lands. They provided three salamanders for us to follow Bellos on, and we caught up with him just after he convinced the first farmstead to batten down the hatches. We split up, Kildrak and myself heading along the edges that would face the Hot Blood attack first, and the other three rode southwest to the next farm down that might have horses in hopes of getting the word out faster.

We came upon a few farmers in the fields and encouraged them to take cover. Eventually they listened. By now we could see the smoke over our shoulders…the attack must have begun. The halfling rode past us on the horse—without Bellos—shouting something about going north to warn people, so we turned south to regroup with Bellos and Donarvan. They had found a patrol of guards who were now riding hard for the edge of the farm lands. Apparently a few of them had also headed back toward the garrison to call for reinforcements.

We stood for a moment, watching the guards head toward the threat where they were probably outnumbered, and I glanced at the salamanders we rode and our Donarvan. What could we do to help without turning the Hot Bloods on the Kawwat?

Campain Revamp
Starting things back up after a too-long hiatus

First attempt to pick the campaign back up after losing some players! w00t!

After securing a position at the museum in Auldale as a cover, the group splits ways to secure the appropriate props for their job. As Rolan, Donarvan, and Kildrak head out of the city to travel to the dragonborn tribes, they meet up with an ex-paladin whom Farkus sent to accompany them.

Meanwhile, Sycorax was attempting to sneak into the city for much-needed supplies. She stumbled upon the party, and was able to convince them to procure supplies for her. She leaves the city with the group as they travel west.

Indecent Proposal

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