At first glance the only thing that stands out to me is that the ambush won’t necessarily take place around the Tilverton area. I’ve deliberately not mentioned where that takes place as that will come out during the game itself and your characters might not remember where they were before the attack ;).

It would be better if players didn’t have their characters come from Tilverton for story reasons.

Outwith that looks good to me.

---

-༺❘✦ 𝓟 𝓮 𝓻 𝓼 𝓸 𝓷 𝓪 𝓵 𝓲 𝓽 𝔂 ✦❘༻-
Move aside, common folk - his greatness, Lulli Mello the Poet has arrived. Here to caress thy craniums with words of contenterness and conundrumming. Fear not if thou art too dull a fork to consume the delectiscious feast he has presented before thine hungriest of eyes, for our beloved wordsmith has yet to meet another that might match his knolledge of vocabulario. Although you, I mean thou, may not COMPREHEND his words, thou might taste them, fee-ee-eel them - maketh loveth to his words like a feral bugbear on a rotted pumpkin. Yes, savor that thought, let it seed your barren mind.

The charitable Lulli Mello feels the deeperest of sympathy for peasants, for they art truly life's discarded pumpkins. He, himself - being amongst the most sophisticated of nobility, hath never experienced squalor; without a doubt, no, certainly not ever. That said, if life were to fucketh our stoic poet by ogre fist, the formidablest Lulli Mello would have the fortitudity to fucketh life right back. Now, note this down, dear nincompoops: compassionated as he may be, any daring fool that would slander Lulli Mello's good name will receive a scathing undressing. By the almighty power of penmanship, thou shalt feel his wrath. Lulli Mello has and always will be a dignitary of the highest regard, rumors otherwise will not be toleratered.

-༺❘✦ 𝓑 𝓪 𝓬 𝓴 𝓼 𝓽 𝓸 𝓻 𝔂 ✦❘༻-
When the reviews rolled in, critics agreed, Lulli Mello's Troupe of Traveling Thespians were a must see. The towns where their caravans chose to lay rest were blessed indeed, for Lulli Mello's scripts were an inspiration. Even Mystra would peak beyond the weave, for a chance to listen to the era's voice of the people. If his stories could captivate the gods themselves, Lulli Mello's words were truly sublime.

However.

The wretched little halfwit as seen above, is not the beloved Lulli Mello. This one's name is, in fact, Borton Runtzaweigh, an urchin halfling and former stage hand. He was pitied and hired to assist backstage with the traversing theater, switching backdrops, preparing props, as well as serving the actors' needs. Among his duties, he was given the honor of shaving the real Lulli Mello's stunningly handsome face... daily.

-༺❘✦ 𝓢 𝓴 𝓲 𝓵 𝓵 𝓼 ✦❘༻-
Cantrips
✧ Prestidigitation
✧ Vicious Mockery

Spells
✧ Command
✧ Distort Value
✧ Dissonant Whispers
✧ Unseen Servant
✧ Hold Person
✧ Skywrite

Class
✧ Bardic Inspiration
✧ Jack-of-All Trades
✧ Song of Rest
✧ Silver Tongue
✧ Unsettling Words
✧ Expertise: Persuasion and Deception

-༺❘✦ 𝓘 𝓷 𝓿 𝓮 𝓷 𝓽 𝓸 𝓻 𝔂 ✦❘༻-
✧ Bag of Holding
✧ 10gp
✧ Flute
✧ Bottle of Ink
✧ Ink Pen
✧ x5 Pieces of Paper
✧ Scroll Case
✧ Light Armor
✧ Dagger

-༺❘✦ 𝓢 𝓽 𝓪 𝓽 𝓼 ✦❘༻-

-༺❘✦ 𝓟 𝓻 𝓸 𝓯 𝓲 𝓬 𝓲 𝓮 𝓷 𝓬 𝓲 𝓮 𝓼 ✦❘༻-
✧ Sleight of Hand (+5)
✧ Stealth (+5)
✧ Deception (+7) Charisma Mod +3, Proficiency Bonus +2, Expertise +2
✧ Persuasion (+7) Charisma Mod +3, Proficiency Bonus +2, Expertise +2
✧ Intimidation (+5)

---

Race: Tiefling
Class: Rogue (Mastermind Subclass)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral



History: "Ah ah ah! It's not polite to pry into a lady's affairs without her permission,"

(OOC: Backstory sent to Valen.)

Mechanical Sheet: myth-weavers.com/sheets/?id=3090097

Name: Grimdal "Grim" Springsky
Race: Shield Dwarf
Class: Circle of Stars Druid
Alignment: Lawful Good
Personality Traits:

• If someone is in trouble, I'm always ready to lend help.
• I'm confident in my own abilities and do what I can to instill confidence in others.

Ideal: People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.
Bond: I protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Flaw: The people who knew me when I was young know my shameful secret, so I can never go home again.

Appearance: At 37, Grim is still in what Dwarves would consider his "teenage years." On the shorter side for a Shield Dwarf, Grim stands 1.3 meters in height (4'4"), with a broad yet still lean build that reflects his youth. He has icy blue eyes and a round face that is rather naked for a dwarf, but his beard will not start to grow for another decade at least. He had a fiery red-gold hair that was kept just off the shoulders, typically with at least one braid, which was often worn on the right side of the head. He favored simple clothing, typically just a jerkin over a plain shirt, and maintained the habit of avoiding metal armor or shields. When he spoke, he had a distinctive Dwarvish accent.

Personality: As a diminutive, "Grim" is a joke of sorts. While Grimdal is a common enough Dwarven name, "Grim" is the complete opposite of the warmth, sincerity, and sheer 40-going-on-16 energy of the young Dwarf. True to the stereotype, Grim can get lost in labors of love, being fond of manual tasks others might describe as hard work. Warm, but reserved. Quiet, yet first to offer a hand or a mug of ale. Grim might not be the most outspoken member of the group, but he is steadfast, curious, and bold. Storms may come, but the sun always rises, is Grim's attitude in times of hardship. He is confident, and that extends to being confident about the hope that he clings to. He can be serious, but grim isn't a word to describe him.

History:Born into a circle nestled within the quiet farming community of Bowshot, Grim grew up in the Sword Coast region. He tended the soil, learning how to grow medicines to sooth ailments, and looked up at the stars at night to learn how to read the stories that are written across the sky. That quiet, pastoral life took a turn when merchants, greedily seeking a vein of silver from nearby caverns, provoked a group of Drow, who then attacked the village. When others ran, Grim stood his ground. And another Dwarf had his back when he did. When the dust had cleared, together, they started the hard work of helping the people to mend both their lives and their homes. People called them the Grim Hand of Hope and the Shining Blade. Small legends, but legends all the same. At least, in their little hamlet on the Sword Coast.

There are those who say its the hope that kills you.

The Shining Blade died. And Grim put Bowshot behind him, selling his skills in reading the stars and ailing the sick for passage aboard a ship sailing over the Sea of Swords. Where was he going? What was his purpose? He looked to the stars to try and find the answers, but instead found himself in the company of a mixed group of companions. He still wasn't certain just where he was going, but being with them gave him purpose enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other and finding ways to keep busy or be useful.

========
Mechanical sheet here. Dice rolls here.

Requested Magic Item: Alchemy Jug

YouTube music playlist here.

Name: Simon Grell

Race: Shifter, werewolf heritage

Class: Ranger, Gloom stalker

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality Traits: I’ve lost too many friends, and I’m slow to make new ones

I have a crude sense of humor.

Ideals: When people follow orders blindly, they embrace a kind of tyranny.

I won't take a job if I feel the employer is not being honest.

Bond: I would still lay down my life for the people I served with.

My honor is my life. If I take a job, I will complete it.

Flaw: I have little respect for anyone who is not a proven warrior.

I made a terrible mistake in battle that cost many lives, and I would do anything to keep that mistake secret.

Appearance:


Simon stands at roughly 5 feet 5 inches tall.

The scaled mail he has shows signs of wear and improvised repairs. He is meticulous about keeping it clean and well oiled to prevent rust.

Over his left bicep, he wears a silver arm ring that bears two wolf heads at the opening of the band.

Personality: Quiet and reserved at first, Simon watches and learns what he can about people. He tries to keep people at arms length, not wanting to get too close to them, not wanting to deal with the emotions that come with people going their separate ways, or dying. He makes crude jokes, often about death.

To the few who he has deemed a friend or found family, Simon is fiercely loyal and will do nearly anything to protect them.

History: Simon is the third son of a forester from a small holdfast. While he does not remember much of his youth, he does remember his father quietly revealing to him around his twelfth birthday the family's secret heritage tracing back to werewolves who had once terrorized the region they lived in. This was something that they all took seriously, and all had to learn to control.

Not long after he turned sixteen, he had returned from collecting firewood in preparation for winter to see an angry mob of villagers surrounding his now burning home, with his parents dead on the ground with his two older brothers. He later learned through eavesdropping at the village that there had been murders occurring that resembled the stories of the lycans who once plagued the land. The trail from one had led into the woods and to his family's home. Simon never did learn more than that. He feared that if the villagers found him still alive, they would kill him. He fled back to the ashen remains of his home to gather what he could and took off east.

It did not take long for him to run out of food and needing to resort to trying to catch prey with the felling ax he had or begging in the streets of the village he had since forgotten the name of. By chance, he found a group of mercenaries that were looking for new recruits. The pay was non-existent, the meals were plain, and the work was grueling. The first year of his time with the mercenaries consisted of cleaning armor for one, stitching the leggings for another, scrubbing pot after pot, plate after plate, training with a long stick in place of a spear whenever he could, and trying to avoid the beatings from those who he just so happened to look at at the wrong moment.

By the end of his second year, he had earned enough respect that one of the scouts took him under their tutelage. During this time, he learned more weapons craft, tracking, stealth, and fighting the things that dwell in darker places.

Now with many years behind him, Simon has found himself in the company of Lulli, Grim, Fydor, and Checkmate.

Name: Illa Dragon-Scaled
Race: Kobold
Class: Ranger (Drakewarden)
Alignment: CN




Illa Dragon-Scale and her Drake, Nameless