The Harbinger of Ferocity

Beginner's DnD 5e Game - Group 2

Arthera's hands rested behind her back, hidden in the crevices of her open sleeves as she watched the dragon-man so carefully deflect the tiefling's efforts so not to spoil his display before the public. The crowd, as though commanded in mind by him up until his prophecies of woe ended, broke apart and went on again with their lives, leaving the odd woman present. She observed the addition of the hammer wielding man, who set himself on a mission in action just as he carried himself with in motion; he had tarried a bit, but now that he seemed to have some of his momentum, he was on and inquiring further still.

"Come on guys! Best not to keep the general waiting."

Feigning to be paying no mind, her tall figure neared the elven woman's side as she spoke to her quietly, noting the situation at hand. The feline had already disappeared into the crowd and the men were at work investigating the dragon's doomspeak with the help of Daisy, of whom, despite her best efforts, likely had not reached the reaction she had been looking for - whatever that was to have been. If anything, it worried Arthera more that one had gone astray and that they might miss the person they sought in the first place.

"As much as I do not want us to divide, I have not seen Yvah. This concerns me in this... place."

The woman spoke to the other plainly, knowing she would understand exactly what it was she meant; this dense, active town full of strange and mundane sorts. Her golden eyes looked over Ceria closely for a moment, searching for an answer in part to the threat they faced. Rather, just the chaos of the unusual activity more than anything. The reply she received, from her own thought, was to explain what she had in mind as it was.

Effects

Arthera uses her Telepathy to send Talionis a covert message with only a thought. Within his mind, her voice gives a soft reply no more loud or intrusive than a whisper from her regal tone. The words are simple and offer her sincere effort to buy them time to ask of Jakaar some before they become too distant.

"Ceria is not wrong and Yvah has already disappeared to the event, or so I imagine. We are going to see ourselves underway slowly; try not to get yourselves into too much trouble."

Arthera blinked softly in reply, her message under way before she again spoke with her companion in a subdued tone.

"Walk with me."

DnD 5e - Beginner's Game

The sounds of the woodland, rather the absence thereof, noted to the young druid that something was off. Perhaps at first he thought it to be the power the dragonborn invoked, whatever strange source it came from was tinged with aspects of darkness; not malevolent, as their entire exchanged would be even more different, but almost as though it were a spirit of some sort, something from beyond and the other side. This however was not the case, for when the conversation lulled, the young woman chiming in with her sincere thanks, that unusual lack was decidedly different and not related to what he believed before. No, it was instead something else, subtly familiar in a way that was only an inkling rather than explicit understanding

Looking over his shoulder some, eyes scouring the leaves of the forest's edge, the approach the beast of a man found was a welcome change. A band of firbolgs, the same that dwelled in a village none too far from this place and a people highly attuned - even more than he or the elves that claimed these forests - to nature's very whim. It was a breath of relief, particularly after Baron Caerziros' very forward concerns.

"As difficult as it might be to believe, the contrary, friend." Lorenthar shared one last look to the elegant drake and the rest of the company, turning to face the lead of the firbolg scouts, "These outsiders fought against the corruption..."

The druid approached them, being mindful to let the towering figures move freely about the thick grass and plentiful stocks of fruit and vegetable this reclaimed dwelling had sprung up with in its owners absence.

"... however, I am certain you can imagine why my spirit seems somber and my heart looking for answers."

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

As much as Brannor knew some quiet conversation was held, it was neither his business nor his interest what was exchanged between the two polar voices. One was old, weary with age, while the other was quite youthful yet. One man, one woman, both involved in some finer topics - something the student of the hunt would have found interest in had he known the subject at hand, but alas as he did not, he paid it no further mind over the other few voices that arose now and then. This was wise, as when the reveal before them played itself out, no one was there to greet them but the "shadows" that melted in and out of the inky lantern lit darkness of the keep's underbelly. Able to see, quite well at that, Brannor ushered the group onward and inward without questioning the ordeal.

The masks were right to keep out of sight and mind, lest of course they spoil their carefully crafted and surely coveted surprise they had in mind for any kobold or follower of the blue dragon find their way here. Whoever they were did not matter really, whatever aura of distrust they put off could be ignored in the face of a common enemy, an adversary much more coordinated and powerful, at least here. It was with this rationale that the entourage were kept moving forward without a moment of tarrying, all up until the unexpected allies of Greenest and the survivors of the temple saw themselves into the attention of Longwater.

The man, a bit worn by the night's battle, kept up his station by vetting and accounting for those who survived. A task that, to someone of this village, was both a joyous and grim notion; to know who had survived and those likely dead... or worse. The paladin assumed the latter, that worse was what the darkness had in mind as whatever evil possessed the hearts of these things to assault the keep and it was related in some sort to the dark priests accompanying them. Dark minds often were born of darker magics, ones more sinister than anything perhaps any of those present knew.

Of course such an assumption could be woefully wrong, but anyone who had cast their lot in with an evil dragon were unlikely to stop just there; like the light that anointed the warrior or the priestess, one that still burned ever so dimly in the rest, perhaps not more awakened yet, the darkness ebbed and flowed in the not too distant background.

Longwater and those still resisting were those dim lights, one that caught the attention of those present and who moved to him. It was at this point Brannor faded away, allowing the people to mingle and merge as they did without much order. Distinct as he was in their midst, both by shape and scale, but dress as well, towering above them, his duty here to Chauntea's people had drawn to a close. They risked their lives for them, even the mage did at that, so it came as no real offense to hear that while they could not capture the enemy, not a single head was so much as harmed; not one hair marred.

With a stoic nod, a trait the man practiced unconsciously out of lack of common tongue to share, the huntsman turned himself away and began about his ritual, just as he did before. He would clean himself of the stains that had now adorned his leathers at their edges and the vicious steel of his weapon before resting. Albeit he stopped midstride to speak to the company, should they have need of him again where he was to be found.

"You may find me with the water, when you need me again."

And like the predatory ideals he embodied, he vanished around a corner thereafter in a few calm, plodding steps, content to take his rest.

So it was he set about repeating himself in gesture, taking up the time he had to rest the mind and spirit as much as the body. If anything the heart was the most settled. It had been tested and it had been proven. Brannor was certain there was something in this endeavor, as odd as it began days prior, that related to this town. That the Silver Lady had meant in some way for this to be.

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen

D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

I will see to getting a reply out in the morning, given that a day has passed.

A fantasy setting collaboration?

Making the threats numerous, ambiguous and not readily explained offers much more ground to build upon. If not everything is known or understood, it makes any danger just all that more mythical. You have to ask yourself then, even as a reader who has the "eye of God" view of the story, "What is actually happening here?"

I have no doubt there are prophecies and legends, fantasy would not be the same without them as we are all well aware, but putting a spin upon them as potentially filled with error or "not quite true" makes them more novel, more fascinating. For example, the submission I put forward has no real answer; everyone who did know is dead and those who truly knew are long since dead. Some people believe they know, but are too afraid of the answers because it challenges their beliefs - they would rather live in the perceived safety of their beliefs despite contrarian evidence.

Spelling nothing out for certain short of the obvious, such as places, peoples and personalities does well to these ends.

A fantasy setting collaboration?

I imagined some coming from parts of the Northern Reaches and parts where no humans dwelled deep in Altgarde's wilderness, @BingTheWing. If that sounds appropriate, I do not imagine much reason they couldn't be present as it seems the most likely place to find a snow elf.

A fantasy setting collaboration?

Altgarde

Long ago when wanderers still pressed far to the north that would later become the Northern Reaches, there arose a kingdom on the borderlands, one ruled by men known further south as "barbarian kings". Brutes some would say, but such dishonorable and disparaging terms never left their lips in person, rather only behind closed, barred doors in fits of frustration. The true story of Altgarde is far more telling than such utterings, in that the initial kings of this cold forest land were the first line of defense against the actual outsiders and men beyond. They settled it not for their own gain, but for the benefit of those they once served; a reward and honor to fight on behalf of their reigning monarch.

It grew not because of any attraction for many who found themselves there arrived out of some unpleasant necessity. No, rather it remained and endured still despite deep winters and long falls as the men of the land came to embrace its ruggedness. They were free to rule and take from it what they saw fit, paying their debts to the crown not in gold, but in safety. The riches they reaped were their own and many warrior-lords arose through contests of strength. Man and woman alike proved their grit, be it the customs of traveling the wilderness unarmed upon a challenge to a mountain top, or in fair contest of strength and skill; a blunted sword or axe wielded in the lame hand, the other bound to their belt behind their back.

To outsiders the people of Altgarde were quite queer in their strangeness, never a people for many words and with a propensity for challenging dissenters with unusual and strange contests of individual prowess. However, the realm's Shield of the North did not last forever. The promise of personal riches at the cost of work drew in more and more eager hands and mouths while the threat ever dwindled away in the face of swelling numbers. Age old cultures of the Kingdom of Altgarde began to wither and die upon their fruitful vine, most notably with a tax levied upon them from beyond; tradition had been broken and the land splintered into fierce conflict. Now too broken to face the threats of the land, it was not more than a generation or two of meddlesome folk later that it fell away entirely.

The "Wvalgentar a'Wuden" or the "Winter War" approached, just as its name implied, with the fall of the countryside's most remorseless of seasons. A tremendous chill unlike anything known to man since he first began his history in the realm enchanted the very earth and seeped deep into the soil. This age of ice brought with it the great glaciers and storms of the Northern Reaches, but worse yet the most mighty of beings that had only been seen in rare myth. Powerful, grand beasts both men and animal descended on Altgarde not as knowing invaders, but seekers of opportunity; the great watery divide had once again been frozen over.

Broken by their own infighting and consumed by the complacency of the southern states, the factions of the shattered kingdom only realized too late what their oncoming fate was. Thorps, villages, towns and soon cities fell as nature began to reclaim them before their eyes. Winters grew longer and more unbearable, with the beasts and men becoming more aggressive in pursuit of their quarry. True barbarians, long thought chased out, began their marauding attacks against the last fringes of Altgarde, mercilessly laying claim to whatever scraps they could scrounge. Nightfall became one of the greatest enemies of all lesser folk, for the very wolves at their door had become real and the safety of flame had become an increasingly valuable commodity.

For nearly two decades the failed rebellions fought a losing battle against the north, that was until the south paid them dear mind. Scholars, now mesmerized and awed by this turn of events unlike anything they knew prior, had but stories of ages past to work with; legends and rumors of a terrible power of nature, something forgotten until now. Wisely an entourage was sent into the heart of Velkhan, the last remaining kingdom on the borderlands. Through their studies, pressing deep into the stretches of the wild in all corners of the region, they uncovered the barrows of the past; tombs of long dead druids. It was clear now what was to come, for the cycle was evident upon the very walls they explored, sheet after sheet of parchment scrawled in record.

The magical winter descended upon the realm to give it new life later as a spring.

The corruption and fall of the realm was both a metaphorical and practical thing, a time where Altgarde itself needed to wane in importance of its summer. These lost people knew this truth well and had prepared for it for quite a time, long beyond their physical life and long before their history could be known. But there was more to it than this. Something more sinister awaited the region, which now prowled with dangerous beasts and roving packs of men. Before the scholars could make it known, they vanished without a trace; consumed by the savage powers at work within the forested mountains, rolling cold plains and infinite white face that stared down upon the world.

It has become a subject of interest to the resisting crowns of Altgarde such as the Kingdom of Altgarde itself, the entire "Winter War", some going so far as to discover their old roots to survive within it. However, most fear its presence above anything else. There exists no church now in the region that does not preach its arrival as anything less than punishment for their crimes of cowardice and greed and no temple that dares speak of the magic thought to be involved. Those who do know, the ones who have joined with the land of old as their long dead ancestors did, are not sharing; they have rediscovered that primal power. Magic has again sprung to life from the very earth in that sense, beckoning those who would dare do the unfeeling bidding of the land.

Though such "traitors" are vilified and perhaps rightfully so. Perhaps it was them, those who tapped into these tombs before the scholars themselves, who rediscovered the ancient powers and called upon them for their own benefit, but none can be certain. The war among the people and against the environment itself rages, barely held off for now and drawing ever greater attention with each passing year...

The region is less a kingdom than it is anything now, made up of five or so "states", one of which is official and recognized as a proxy state of a greater monarchy while the rest are varying forms of unofficial ascensions. Historically, the environment belongs to no one and there's no certainty among the people, even educated people, of the actual line of pedigree. Thus, as one can imagine, it has become a contest of hearsay and claimed legends, be them true and false. While the leaders of these factions skirmish with each other however, their people live in growing fear of the ever longer nights and the wild outside.

While not entirely shrouded in snow, one can view the environment as a mixture of high tundra, alpine forest, cold grasslands and at its most modest, "cold forest". People have been pressed increasingly south, with the majority of refugees having fled several generations ago from the creeping cold. The majority of such people in exodus had nowhere to go and either starved or settled where they could, making meager livings for themselves. The wild life is made up of both megafauna and regionally appropriate fauna, everything from the woodland chipmunk, prairie dog, deer, elk and the like to bison, ground sloth, mammoth and so forth. Predators are exceedingly dangerous, with the most "mundane" being bobcat, foxes or lynx, up to wolves, dire wolves, giant wolverines, grizzly bears, cold lions and various sabertooths.

Magical beasts are more common than magical monsters, but the latter are your associated winter wraiths, ice elementals, wood trolls, and the sort. They are not frequent threats, but they are difficult to best in a land where fire is considered precious and essential to life. More menacingly is that the environment, while bountiful to those who know how to hunt and gather, often has powerful and unpredictable weather in its mountainous terrain and almost seems to target regular folk. The seasons, by proxy, are less pronounced and generally all varying states of cold, but can be beautiful and exotic when entire carpets of wildflower blossom; a site few would ever see or imagine.

Magic itself in the land is a close kept, almost dead secret. Those who do command it know it as a source granted from nature, something one needs to tap into in their soul and draw out from the land itself, making it outright deadly because of how exaggerated it can become. A bolt of flame might be unimpressive, but a whirlwind turns into a small hurricane of tearing crystalline ice and snow. As such and because of the people's beliefs, it is almost entirely unknown; prior to recorded history of humans, this magic was more common than the arcane studies, but was used like some now is through faith and connection.

With regard to faith, the dire situation has turned many churches into places of apocalyptic threat. Almost all of the major practices, short of the minor more culturally locked, view the very assault by the environment itself and nature as punishment by the divines for the greed their people gave into. People go so far as to hold mass destructions of objects of wealth, like meltings of gold, silver, finery and the like as sacrifice and casting it into deep lakes, hoping that it will stop the advance. The overall mood of the people is one of a crushed spirit, not only because their environment has turned from bountiful to grey and skeletal, or so they see and believe, but because their noble lineage and line exists not at all anymore. They are viewed as poor savages whose very skin is cold to the touch by outsiders, despite these rumors and misleading failing to be true.

The overarching objective of this submission? A place where the environment and its people are out to get you. Not because they are evil, corrupt or anything, but because that's just the nature of it.

DnD 5e - Beginner's Game

”What’s... going on?”

The new figure in the shape of a man rather than the cat did not dare withdraw his focus from the dragonkin, let alone did he not so much as drop an inkling of acceptance of the events against him. If anything it was now more suspicious and distrustful than before, having been tried and tested by threat of a sword and bite of a magic spell. This was not without reason, good reason at that, as the outsider had said one thing now but his actions a moment before were tellingly different, so different that had the druid not complied that the warlock might have actually attempted to force him to. Regardless if the dragonborn did or did not have that intent all along, the man did not judge from what might be rather what the perception was.

And when dealing with regular men unaccustomed or initiated to these things of the wild, that point of watchfulness was a factor to keep alive if only for one more day.

"My only fear was that my allies would not understand my intention and would rush to my defense. Luckily for you, Sir Kitty, I decided to test their reactions mid-breakfast, which I must say is a terrible time to test one's reactions. They performed as well as I could expect."

The dragon gestured with an outstretched hand, taking a step forward; Lorenthar mirrored in reverse, taking a step backward with the corresponding foot and closing his hands into fists, still intent on defending himself. The motion was an overt warning, something much more difficult to communicate as a man rather than an animal. In most usual circumstance, this would be accompanied by a withdrawing of ears to the head and a quivering of the jowls while rousing a throaty resonance would vibrate the air; the line was already crossed as it was, but it was clear the man of the wood wasn't intent on reciprocating the "greeting" wished on him. Rather, the dispelling of the dark magic only just now offered any form of repose and conscious thought rather than instinctual reaction.

But when the sword reappeared in Drajhan's grasp, that of the free hand but a hand all the same, it only settled that the earlier gesture of "peace" was not to be trusted. Despite this the druid continued to listen intently, looking back to Angela now as the Baron carried on with his introduction. Lorenthar attempted to keep watch of all the onlookers, but that proved difficult with the dragon so close; there was no luxury of actual introductions to be had here after such a brazen move.

"And I have even less reason to trust you now, regardless of what you might claim."

Lorenthar's remark came with the decline to take the hand, his posture changing some from being overtly defensive to more at ease, having established the respectful gap of distance once more.

"You may call me Lorenthar." The human said, plainly and with the same level of demeanor he had displayed.

The fact that name was obviously elven was probably a subject of question, but it was just as evident the man said it with a straight face and not a tell or break of character. This wasn't an attempt to mislead, in that he either legitimately had such a name or went by it, as strange as that was. What was not unusual about this was that a druid could even so much assume such a name, let alone in this wood. If anything it became a bit more clear as to just why the beast had been so standoffish.

"My intentions," He began, returning to the actual matter requested of him instead of the formal pleasantries, "Are to take you to a gathering where they are likely to have some answers as to what transpired with the Gate."

"So if you are through convincing me this entire endeavor of mine was unwise, I will see to it that we get on with our way."

DnD 5e - Beginner's Game

"You are nothing but a lot of talk, outsider." An unexpected voice answered, one neither pleasant or kind but oddly familiar in a way that was unsettling, "So willing to repay kindness and safety with threats... how expected."

The cat sprung up to standing, fading away thereafter. The motion was swift, practiced and reactionary, as though in the morning sun and the shade that fell on it, it was as much a part of them as anything else.

"I am a warden to this land and you are, in part, the reason I am here. You had boldly come to a sacred place like the other invaders, but it seems you are not as much an enemy as they are." The green eyes narrowed, unimpressed with the attempted show of force and going so far as to point out the gesture as foolish.

The dragon and his company were in hostile woods, that of which had other watchful eyes hidden away in places the former cat even knew not. Were it not for the willingness to stand with them and fight, the odds were not so much in their favor as they had been before. This Lorenthar knew and that he kept close to his heart. It was everything to not even the odds or up the ante, but he was an opportunistic sort; a fair fight like this blatant challenge was not the best approach - the night just hours prior would have been, but Lorenthar did not act on that chance as it wasn't his intent as much as it could have been.

"If you are intent on continuing to threaten me then I will leave you to whatever fate the wood has for you, be it the elements, the beasts or the elves rather than answers." Lorenthar paused, keeping his hands freely visible; they were not the weapons he needed as it was if this were to turn to a conflict. Rather, they were a distraction as they showed palms out at the sides of his hide and leathers.

This was the reason the druid was so loathe to deal with mortal men and their troop. They were quick to turn the very spoils and victories of the day before and make them sickly. Whatever good will Lorenthar had was soured by this, but he was not surprised. Rather, he was more aloof to it than anything and it showed; attempting to intimidate him was going to get nowhere.

"Call off your spell or that is all I will share."

Effects

Lorenthar makes subtle use of the Dodge action to prepare for any potential attack.

A fantasy setting collaboration?

It would be reasonable to have the substance unlock the latent magical potential in a person, say by flooding that force which connects them to the realm. For someone who is not born into this, one can imagine this alchemical compound can have profound effects, say extreme as burning away parts of the soul itself. It withers the spirit, heart, mind and body. It is too much for the average person to maintain. Despite this, you can imagine the wealthy or elite might be drawn to that taste of power the envy, after all they are the elite - why should mundane folk be the only one allowed such power and just because they were fortunate enough to be born with it?

Understandably so such a substitute for real power, be it inborn or studied, would be rare and costly, but as with many forms of power or potential, it is an attractive option. While it might eat away at a person the addiction is powerful. A little bit more would not hurt too much would it?

If anything I imagine the substance to be a powerful psychic stimulant, awakening the powers of the mind to tap into magic. Of course psionics do this, but those are gifts discovered by a select few. Something rarer than wizardry, witchcraft or sorcery. Even more poorly understood and far more unpredictable.

It might cause episodes of mania just by itself or awaken those urges.