[IC] The Death Knight's Squire [D&D 5e One Shot]

[Benzaiten]

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ORLBAR Month: Deepwinter Races: Humans Population: about 450 people ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

It is the year 1349 DR, in the month of Deepwinter. You have been on the road for nearly two months now, and snow hangs thick on the trees as you make your way towards the town of Orlbar, at the foot of the Greypeak Mountains. The Greypeaks are known throughout Faerun for their silver and iron mines, but it is a different type of metal that brought you here: gold. While you were in Neverwinter you overheard rumors of a large horde of treasure within an abandoned goblin keep. Even tavern rumors prove to be fruitful sometimes and having been without a purpose for some months, you departed immediately for the Grey Vale. When you reach Orlbar, the air is brisk and the town is busy. Carts carry all manner of goods: timber, wool bales, grain, and animals from the surrounding country. Some of these goods would be bound for Waterdeep or Neverwinter, others for the nearby city of Loudwater. Hungry and thirsty after many days on the road, you enter the first tavern you see, The Woodsman’s Retreat, and satisfy your cravings. Bread, cheese and a hot mulled wine do the trick nicely. You then enquire from the barkeep about accommodation. Your bones ache and rest is essential. The mountains can wait one or two days while you rest and replenish your supplies in town. The barkeep tells you that a very respectable inn, the Silver Flask, is just nearby. Toting your backpack, you walk down the street to the Silver Flask and pay for a room. The innkeeper is a jolly woman who is glad to have your business, and she lights a cozy fire in your room. You bathe, then lie down to rest and soon fall into a deep sleep; it’s been a while since your travel-hardened self has had clean sheets and a roof overhead! You are woken later that night by noise from the next room. You can hear a woman openly sobbing on the other side of the wall. The sound is gut-wrenching. Every now and then a male voice says something as if trying to comfort her. You tolerate this for a while, but eventually, it becomes evident that sleep is going to be impossible. You look about your adventuring group, the other three people you have been with for quite a few months now. For whatever reason, you four have stuck together. It seems all your companions had been awakened by the cries from the next room just like you have. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[CollectorOfMyst]

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Keannan AC: 16 Hit Points: 15/15 Feature used: N/A Prepared spells: Absorb Elements, Cure Wounds, Entangle, Healing Word, Ice Knife equipment on body: Leather Armour, Shield, Scimitar, Wooden Staff, Yew Wand in backpack: Waterskin, Rope (50ft), Coin Pouch (10gp) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Keannan, by virtue of not needing the same kind of sleep as the others, only the Reverie, had been awake perhaps a minute longer, during which the sobbing had not eased. Seeing the others stir - waking, most likely - he simply muttered a word of frustration, before sitting up. "I had hoped the woman would quiet afore long, but if you three have also woken, then I doubt I will find the quiet as comforting as before. Do you think we should go to them, or leave it to the ears and heart of our kind hostess?" ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[rocketrobie2]

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c'Ob AC: 17 hit points: 20/20 feature used: n/a equipment on body: Common Clothes, Nice Bead Bracelet in backpack: Monster Hunter Pack, Dungeoneer's Pack, x10 Darts, Dagger ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

c'Ob slept in the tub, giving his body sufficient water to keep his body nice and moist. It wasn't the worst place he'd slept but it wasn't the worst by far, that award was given to a mimic in the form of a bed. The actual sleeping didn't seem to come as the wailing from next door proved steady and loud. c'Ob finally got up from his sleeping spot and headed over to others. "That wailing's not gonna get any quieter. My vote's we head over and see whats up. And hopefully get her to shut her yap for some shut eye." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[Mistress Dizzy]

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AMANITA AC: 15 hit points:19/19 feature used: n/a equipment on body: Leather armor Shortsword Shortbow/20 arrows 2 Daggers Cloak with Goblin embroidery(fashion, no bonus) in backpack: Explorer's Pack Thieves' Tools Staff Hunting Trap Necklace of Snake Fangs (just a hunting trophy, no bonus) Traveler's Clothes Belt Pouch (10G) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

The youngest of the adventurers, wrapped up in their well-patched cloak like a security blanket, spoke from the corner. Amanita had swiped one of the decorative rugs and seemed to have been using it, too, for bedding. "If fluffy Den-mother is not awake now, she won't." The tip of a dark, freckled nose came just into view as the young human yawned wide. They spoke something in Goblin, looking at the others for agreement. Then they frowned, before trying again in Common. "If one does not rest, the cave does not rest. So first we make that one rest-" They jerked a half-gloved thumb at the adjoining wall, where the crying could still be heard. "and then also us." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[Vertigo]

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Wager AC: 15 Hit Points: 17/17 Feature used: N/A Spells: Eldritch Blast, Mage Hand, Thaumaturgy, Charm Person, Hex equipment On body: Leather Armour, Daggers (hidden), Hollow Statuette/Arcane Focus (hidden), Dice Set In backpack: Scholar's Pack ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

There were only a few things Wager disliked - fewer yet openly - but winter had earned its place on that list long ago. He disliked it and everything that came with. The snow, clinging to him like an usurer, the freezing temperatures, forcing him to cloak himself in unbecoming wools and furs, and of course-- "Achoo!" The insistent cold. "Pardon me," Wager offered to the rest of the room's occupants, pressing a handkerchief to his nose for the umpteenth time. Not that he had to worry about waking anyone up with his sneezing - whomever stayed in the next room over had made sure they weren't going to get a wink of sleep anyhow. "I vote in favour of doing something before we all drown in her tears," he chuckled from behind his handkerchief. "Unless you'd all rather stay awake the whole night and gossip. Why, I wouldn't say no to that either!" He'd wait a moment, but assuming no one was particularly eager to bring up an interesting topic of conversation, he'd offer to make for the room adjacent to theirs and give the door a knock. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[CollectorOfMyst]

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Keannan AC: 16 Hit Points: 15/15 Feature used: N/A Prepared spells: Absorb Elements, Cure Wounds, Entangle, Healing Word, Ice Knife equipment on body: Leather Armour, Shield, Scimitar, Wooden Staff, Yew Wand in backpack: Waterskin, Rope (50ft), Coin Pouch (10gp) ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔	Looking at Amanita, Keannan contemplated their way of speaking. It was curious, to say the least, but he didn't speak Goblin, so he didn't question it. "Well. It seems we are decided, then. But I suggest I not take the lead here... words of comfort are not my best skill." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[rocketrobie2]

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c'Ob AC: 17 hit points: 20/20 feature used: n/a equipment on body: Common Clothes, Nice Bead Bracelet in backpack: Monster Hunter Pack, Dungeoneer's Pack, x10 Darts, Dagger ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

"Me neither." c'Ob said in reply to Keannan before taking the lead and heading over next door with the also eager Wager. The frog-man was too tired to put much more than a moments thought into their game plan at the moment, preferring to tackle the situation as quickly as possible and get back to sleep. He rapped on the neighbour's door a couple of times. "Hello? Everything alright in there?" ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[Benzaiten]

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ORLBAR Month: Deepwinter Races: Humans Population: about 450 people ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

An elderly man answers. He is dressed finely, like a member of the aristocracy, but sports a nasty black eye and a gash across his cheek. In the background a woman, also richly dressed, sits on a chair by the fire, her face buried in her hands. “Yes? What is it?” the elderly gentleman asks directly. “Show our guest in, Elric,” the woman says weakly, drying her tears with a silk handkerchief. The older man waves you inside and offers you a chair before asking if any of you would like a cup of tea. On a low table next to the chair the weeping elderly lady sits in, you can see that her cup of tea had stopped steaming without having been touched. "I must apologize", the woman starts talking. "I assume I awoke you." "I'm Lord Brewmont, this is my wife, Lady Brewmont", the man, Lord Brewmont, introduces her. "We didn't mean to cause you any stress." "We arrived here last night..." Lady Brewmont wiped a few new tears from her eyes as the memory that ailed her resurfaced once more. “Elric is so busy these days, so we thought we would bring ourselves out to Orlbar for a little holiday. Our grandson, he’s so fond of the mountains. Loves all the stories. Our daughter died some years ago. He is all we have left of her.“ Lady Brewmont begins sobbing once more. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

[Vertigo]

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Wager AC: 15 Hit Points: 17/17 Feature used: N/A Spells: Eldritch Blast, Mage Hand, Thaumaturgy, Charm Person, Hex equipment On body: Leather Armour, Daggers (hidden), Hollow Statuette/Arcane Focus (hidden), Dice Set In backpack: Scholar's Pack ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Wager bowed, arguably with a little too much flare, as the door opened to reveal an old man. His clothes were at odds with the state of his face, and the tiefling couldn't help but wince at the sight of his wounds. Someone'd had a rough night - and for once, it wasn't him. Behind the bruised man sat the source of the wailing, still unable to dry her tears. "The Brewmonts," Wager repeated with a hum and a nod. At the mention of a grandson, the tiefling's eyes swept across the - decidedly grandsonless - room, and his brow quirked. "Fond of the mountains, you say? Surely not so much he'd be there at this hour. Why, children - and adults, might I add - ought to be asleep by now!" His gaze focused back on Lord Brewmont's bruised face, but his cheery tone didn't match the concern in his eyes. "So, pray tell, where might he be?" ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔