Recent Statuses

2 mos ago
Current One more week until GenCon!
6 mos ago
What a beautiful day to discover what nonsensical shenanigans my PCs will get themselves into. <3
6 mos ago
One does not appreciate how much sin can be simply covered up until you find yourself hiding your busted-ass cake under layers of frosting.
6 mos ago
TFW a party member gets themself killed obsessively trying to harvest just one more vial of brown mold while they were the only one on watch at night. <_<
7 mos ago
The moment when one of the last two standing party members pulls a clutch triple kill out of their ass while at 1hp.


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No ambushes forthcoming and still no signs of life in the inner bailey, Marcon makes it to the doors of the keep without incident while his companions loot the guard houses of every jar of toenail clippings they can find. Though there is no response to his knock, as the doors slowly begin to swing open he can hear the sounds of people talking within. Unable to hear exactly what is being said, he can nonetheless tell that they seem to be having a serious discussion, with more than one heated voice rising now and again in the conversation.
The food sitting out seems to be several days old at your best estimate. Within the footlockers is primarily spare sets of clothing and fairly mundane daily odds and ends- things such as mess kits, books, fishing tackle, soap, mirrors, or shaving kits. Also, there as various minor mementos that seem of little worth. Among these, there is a small wooden holy symbol, a small scrap of parchment with a faded emblem on it, a glass vial filled with nail clippings, a tiny silver bell with a ribbon attached, crudely sketched blueprints to what appears to be a tavern, a deck of cards signed in flowing script, and a sheaf of paper bearing hand-written poetry so terrible it could potentially be used as a means of psychological torture.

Theren sees nothing new beyond what Tortetarte and Marcon have already seen. As for an explanation of what might have happened? Well, any conclusions he might have drawn from smashed buildings and large boulders strewn about the town are about all he has to go off of still.
Though the door to the Eastern gatehouse is shut, it is neither locked nor barred. At a glance it seems to be a sort of barracks, with bunk beds and footlockers on one side and and assortment of tables and chairs on the other. Another recurring theme is present here as well- the guardhouse is empty of people and seemingly abandoned. Though, judging by half eaten meals and overturned chairs, it seems as though the guards here were forced to respond rapidly to some sort of situation.

As far as Marcon can tell, that rascal Evard has no tricks up his sleeve this day- assuming you would even be able to see through such a trap before it were sprung. In fact, a more thorough investigation of the Western gatehouse would ultimately yield the dead bodies of two men, dressed as guards and bearing the sigil of the fox and rose on their armor. The gatehouse is furnished much the same as the Eastern gatehouse, except that most of the furnishings in here are shattered and strewn about with the rest of the rubble.
While one of the gatehouses is shut tight, you can see some of the inside of the ruined gatehouse. Right inside the badly damaged doorframe is a large pile of rubble and debris centered around a large boulder that appears to have come crashing through the ceiling. There is blood crusted on some of the rubble and at least one body lying on the ground in a puddle of dried blood. Other than that, the inner bailey seems deserted.

So, while Marcon is currently checking the Western gatehouse and the rest of the party seems to be standing cautiously at the main gate. To your left, the Eastern gatehouse still remains closed and short distance away- about 30 feet from the gate, the doors to the keep are also closed.
Finally gathering the required courage, one of the "brave" adventurers finally decides to try the front door.

Everyone roll reflex saves.

Though this door can clearly be barred from the inside, it seems as though no one has done so. As such, when Tortetarte attempts to open it, he meets very little resistance. Swinging slowly open, you can see one of the all-too-familiar boulders that have been strewn about the town several feet in. In fact, for anyone glancing around the inner bailey, the large quantity of boulders present would make it clear that this was the most heavily bombarded location in the town. The door of the gatehouse to the right- the one of the pair that appeared partially collapsed, is swinging loosely on its hinges and shards of shattered wood and other items litter the area around the entryway.
Still nothing...

Carpe diem, gentlemen!
Other than the faint sounds of wind and water, there is no reply. Fortune favors the bold!
As a super brief recap: Marcon, Tortetarte, Anchor and Theren have all crossed the broken section of bridge to stare down the closed doors of the gatehouses guarding this side of the bridge. Meanwhile, Ealwald and Galen have thus far refrained from joining in on the investigation. What will our brave adventurers do next? Only time will tell!
With a graceful leap, Marcon has cleared the broken section of bridge and landed safely on the other side. Tortetarte attempts to follow suit and, while he does manage to make it to the other side, his grace is somewhat lacking. As such, he catches a foot on the shattered end of the bridge and ends up knocking his noggin' on the far side of the bridge- once again ending up unconscious! Theren, wanting no part of this nonsense, waits patiently for the rope to be tied before essentially cartwheeling across the rope, graceful enough to put even Marcon's previous landing to shame.

Ahead of you, all the way across the bridge is a pair of windowless stone gatehouses. One of these has a caved in roof and seems to have taken a serious bit of structural damage. Between them is a set of oak doors set with iron hinges of the sort that can be barred from the inside. At the moment the doors are closed and no one else is in sight beyond your motley crew.

That being said, Tortetarte did hit his head pretty damn hard and will need to make a death saving throw.
Yep. 1d20+str+proficiency (if you are proficient in athletics).
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