Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Brindleton's Woodworking Action: Arcana Check: 24 Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Of all the things that Victoria considered as a possibility, she had to admit that this one might lean toward the direction of far-fetched. "Lycanthropy?" the Bard echoed. She shook her head to dismiss the the possibility. "No, that can't be it. I've read many writings on the subject of Lycanthropes. This?" She gave it some thought, and a worried expression began to grow across her otherwise sterling features. "No, werefolk are quite well known for making a lot of noise. Brutal, mindless killers when the moon presents just so, and... and that's mostly the Infected ones who don't know or who struggle against it." She gave thought to what they had seen and heard so far, summarized by Marita just then. Her expression spoke of internal dissidence, as what she wanted did not align fully with the facts presented.

"If you are correct, and please bear in mind that I am not saying that you are, this is a little strange for Werewolves." She pulled out the wrapped bit of hair and gazed at it for a moment. "The Lore of Lycanthropy speaks of three different kinds of Weres; Natural, Infected, and Cursed. Those natural-born fluidly exist as such. Infected have a lot of difficulties unless they embrace their new, animalistic tendencies. And then they change in ways. Cursed ones, voluntarily anyway, can be a problem. If what you're saying is true, and those who came back from being missing are part of it, then there is no telling how many of these persons at the Festival are... Gods be merciful." Her trip into supposition did not vocally express her question as to what fate might have befallen those who did not come back. "That is, of course, if you are right about Lycanthropy. What in the Nine Hells would a bunch of Werewolves want in a town like this?"

Victoria let the question hang in the air for a short moment before adopting a lighter expression and quality about herself, She crossed her legs and lay her hands on her knees, looking quite nonchalant and girlish in the light of the window behind her. "There must be a half-dozen explanations that might yet fit, before we jump to something hasty. I would assume there might be more obvious blood around town." As much as she hated to admit it, the facts did support a possibility of Lycanthropes as she knew them, but not perfectly. Her face, optimistic as she could make it, still bore a tinge of doubt. She glanced down to the slim sword buckled at her waist, musing aloud, "I wonder where a lady might get something silvered at this time of day, hmm?"

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil

Ello ello. Once again, here we are at our weekly update. But this time, both sections of the party have qualified for encounters. How these are handled will most assuredly affect how things proceed from here, so... Congratulations! You have hit the tipping point of the adventure. I may be using some not-from-book mechanics here, depending on how this is played in one or both of the encounters, so we have that to look forward to.

Anyway, give it a think and do what you feel is best. I'll be here, or in the Discord for questions, concerns, and offers of bribery that I won't actually accept but will allow you to think I'm considering purely to keep hope alive. Roll them dice!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Though the sun is now mostly blocked by a thick cover of clouds. This hasn't affected the temperature too much, but that breeze is becoming more noticeable. Mostly Cloudy summarizes things pretty well. A note of dampness can be detected in the wind; cool humidity that chases the overcast sky, just as blanketing and omnipresent.

Time: Mid to late morning still. While the illumination of a muted sun does not descend from directly overhead, it is closer to this point than to the horizon of its origin.

Ambience: Oh, the tourists are back. Not quite in full force, but enough to make a piece of casual weekday business appear to be a solid payday shopping venture. Local businesses that are not directly catering to the festival overall are experiencing an uptick in business as well - mostly from people they know as locals who wish to get personal exchanges out of the way before tending to their own trades. The Farmers' Market is hopping, selling goods, harvested edibles, and performing services related to upkeep and travel maintenance. Those contestants preparing their barbecue are still at it, working in shifts to produce huge amounts of hogflesh with aromatics and sharp woodsmoke wafting about the greater area of the town. The Traders' Market is bustling at a good pace as well, accepting travel from the river and roadways both. Papers, pen, and the occasional abacus make their appearance as money and goods change hands - no great marketplace of a grand city's mercantile district, but it is fairly impressive for an agricultural community.

The tent and wagon campsites outside of town are less active, thanks to the ingress of these people into the Township's walls. Temporary roadside stands are still operating smoothly, hitting up those traveling toward the settlement proper as well as leaving it. It seems like a different country, almost, out here.

Brindleton's Woodworking

The interior of the shop was quiet, with only the occasional muted sounds coming in from the streets outside. Even then, only the more abrupt of noises really came through. This part of town did not cater to the festival, for the most part, so things stayed calm in comparison to other parts of town. Between the quiet and the still, open spaces of the building, one might feel that Marita and Victoria were quite alone. Even though the sun was hidden for the most part, the strategic placement of warehouse windows allowed the light of day came in well enough through to give a clear, unobstructed view of the whole interior. Those rare occasions that the clouds parted, it was positively brilliant inside.

The musings of what the clues might add up to seemed to echo within the hollow structure, giving pause to the moment. Words like "Lycanthropy" were not merely tossed about in polite society. There was time enough to consider this piece of supposition, even partake in a little conversation about it, until a point when the sun broke through the clouds once more. This time, however, one of the brilliant shafts of light was infringed upon.

Marita was the first to notice it. Victoria remained ignorant until any change of expression or posture came from the Cleric. But just a sure as day, part of the window to the north of them was taken up by a pallid, grubby face. The face was deep within a ragged hood and belonged to a boy, who had pressed hands around and sides of his hood to better glimpse what went on inside. When his discovery was noted, he acquired the most startled of expression and fell back from the glass aperture. As the face disappeared, a respectable thunk could be heard outside, followed by stomping footsteps retreating on the ground and gravel outside the building.

Madame Marcie's Honey Barn

Image Not Unlocked Yet

Travel to The Honey Barn was crowded only at first, starting from the Silversmith's place. The commotion and fast exit of the two outsiders drew even more attention as many curious eyes and still feet gathered to see what new and juicy bits of gossip might be gleaned from this situation. Yes, there were stares. A Human woman taller than probably any man in this area and a Tiefling, rare enough and pointy-horned just like the illustrations in those storybooks that kids love so much, being kicked out of a building presumably locked, boarded up, and unattended. It drew attention.

Once one breaks past the gathering (which was beginning to create a bottleneck in the main thoroughfare), it is a clearer walk in the direction of The Honey Barn. As a matter of fact, the visible amount of people thins dramatically. The trek involves crossing the river, affording a decent view of the Traders' Market from a certain angle and the sporadic river traffic as well as the incoming road traffic from the east. This part of town does not seem to resonate with the festival crowd. Some of these buildings are obviously personal dwellings, but they seem quiet. Sleepy even, as if populated by very late risers or folk who wish to be left alone in the face of overwhelming festivities. There is a small copse of trees nearby, like a small park amid the residential structures

Soon enough, the more familiar face of The Honey Barn can be picked out. Moving a little closer, it is apparent that they are very much not open for business. The streets here, such as they are, remain open and unpopulated with the following exceptions:

Two Humans wearing the attire of town guards and carrying spears were standing rather informally outside of the Honey Barn, just milling about impatiently. The main door cracks open just enough to allow a familiar figure to exit. He had a plain cloth coinpurse in hand, heavy with and said behind him, "Yeah. You tell your mistress I'm glad we got an understanding about things. It'd be a shame otherwise. You all are practically a landmark." He jingled the money before shoving it into a pocket. "Hope you enjoy the rest of the festival." That last remark was tinged with some sarcasm.

Constable Cavendish lay his hand on the head of his hammer, tucked away on his belt with a leather covering, causing the guards with him to reflexively flinch just a little. The three do not appear to have noticed those approaching quite yet, involved in their own business.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Arty Fox
A few things - Please change your character image height to 250 px. The color codes should match across the board with your character's name where appropriate. I thought your color might be too close to present or previous CSs, but on reflection it's probably alright. i don't mind the addition of the one CS to bolster the other one, but please remember that, when it comes time to make changes to your CS, you inform me, wait for an okay to do so, and handle it on both sheets.

I would also point out that you are not limited to the starting equipment from character generation. It is assumed that one has been out in the world a little bit and accomplished a couple of things. Just abide by the guidelines for said equipment in the initial OOC post. And remember, it's all optional. You don't have to add anything more if you don't want.

When those changes are completed, please tag me for a final look and we'll see where we are. Thanks again.

For everyone else approved in the RP - Let me know if you notice anything I might have missed.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Brindleton's Woodworking Action: Help (Investigation for Marita) Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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The fact that Marita blatantly ignored the message of greetings, passed along by Victoria herself from her faithful servant Morty (despite the fact that it was obviously a silly lie) gave the Bard a hint of a smile. She might call it a little fun at no one's expense in particular, but being completely fair, she did have a decent idea how much Marita disliked the signature trick of her College of Bardic Study. The thought passed briefly how the group might handle being in the presence of a group of people like her, with their undead personal assistants, trading pieces of lesser known funerary music or stories of Necromantic practices. They could be a somber lot sometimes. And sometimes when they weren't... It was best left unvoiced among her new companions.

Victoria shuffled off these thoughts, amusing as they were, and set herself back to the work at hand. Morty followed at her heel and slightly off to the side, as held to the standing mental command the animated beast had received. It stayed with Victoria in this manner as she led Marita through her observations of the woodworker's place. "I cannot speak to what Rickard might have uncovered," she explained, "as he removed himself from the building without telling me a thing. But he gave a quick search to the private quarters, up those stairs. I shall give you a hand if you like." The only thing she might do was retrace her steps, maybe try to see what details the Elf might have also seen, but this was primarily up to the fresh set of eyes on the scene - Marita. And yes, she found something ominous.

This brought about a sigh and a rare serious look from Victoria. She shook her head and walked back down the stairs, into the main area. Completely off topic, she mentioned, "You know... this place might make an excellent fallback. The man who owns it is missing, and if we can secure the doors... It's not like anyone but Rickard knows that we were here, I think. Hmm." She shrugged. There was probably a flaw to her logic somewhere if she looked hard enough. But maybe a nugget of truth might be dug out of this as a desperate Plan B.

This flight of thought passing, Victoria walked back to the workshop area and found a chair to rest upon. Morty followed, of course, though rest was not a thing he required. "I must admit, this is not my favorite part of an adventure," she said in melodic tones. "I still think there might be something else to this place, but I can be the meticulous sort when druthers take me. What course of action would you prefer to do next? If it were purely up to me, well... It's probably more responsible that it is not." Shallow and light-hearted words to partially cover for more serious internal brewings. "Obvious cleanup job, scratch marks, hair. People going missing at night. I hope the others have found out more than we have."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Arty Fox
Your numbers look a little off. Before racial modifiers, the sum of your ability scores should be 78 (Barring the ratio change for increasing a second stat past 15). Dragonborn gets a couple of bumps, too.

As far as Astral Self monk goes, that one's in Tasha's if memory serves, so it's all good. But as you don't have access to Astral Self monk in D&DB, maybe Myth-Weavers would provide a better format. One man's humble suggestion. In any case, I do want a complete and accurate CS before I can consider the character for our tiny splash into what awfulness may soon occur. If you have a third online option with easy access, I am open to learn about it.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil

And we are good to go, Theydies and Gentlethems. A nice, rousing game of "What The Hell Just Happened?" for one and all. Hopefully one might begin to put a couple of pieces together, with more fuzzy puzzle bits to come! Yay! In any case, it's good to see us back into the swing of things after the absence, jumping immediately back into our seven day rotation with zero issues.

Also, a quick reminder that the NPCs, while not as amazingly developed as our playable characters, do have their own motivations and will act according to those motivations, accented by the occasional die roll when interacting with the PCs. Interactions, social or physical, will have results appropriate to the NPC and their own interests, be they a little vague.

Per usual, questions, comments, and concerns will be addressed in the OOC or in our Discord, and have a spiffy day.

@Arty Fox

Apologies for not getting back to you before now. I have no idea how your post got overlooked in the shuffle. We are presently taking applications and do not necessarily require any character type in particular. If you wish to apply via character creation, please follow the instructions in the original OOC post and feel free to ask questions in the meantime. I will note that new submissions are not guaranteed entry, and if they are, said characters will come in when it is thematically appropriate to do so.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Though the sun is bright and relatively warming against the autumn winds, it is more often than not covered by a layer of blanketing cloud cover. It has officially moved from partly cloudy to mostly cloudy. Those with a head for weather might have some predictions for later in the day. Winds pick up, bringing in the scent of atmosphere.

Time: Mid to late morning. Depending upon how long one took to search, prowl about, question, or otherwise investigate things, we are hovering in the busier part of the ante meridiem.

Ambience: Things are picking up. The Township has come blaring to life, especially along the main roads crossing the cardinal axes of the soon to be bustling area. Businesses are up and going, hawkers and selling wares in the mercantile places in town, and both the Farmers' and Traders' Markets are coming to full swing. The campsites and wagon clusters outside of town have begun to empty into the places behind the walls, bringing with them money, clamor, and opportunity. The streets and any buildings open to the public are now occupied; privacy is not something one will find casually. The "party", such as it is, has not started and likely will not for some hours yet.

Brindleton's Woodworking

Marita's entry to the building occurred with nothing in the way of fanfare, though the value of one's presence rarely is recognized without the benefit of hindsight. Much to the credit of this median observation, a short time would tell whether the Cleric would make a noteworthy difference. The information provided by Victoria gave a decent enough starting point. Readily viewable was the subpar job someone or something did cleaning up after themselves, though it was a good enough job to obscure the subject of their hurried janitorial duties. In short form; neither the Cleric nor Bard knew what was cleaned, nor the significance thereof.

Away from the work area and out into the warehouse/sales floor, the furniture looked completely untouched. Nothing strange about anything here, nothing soiled or stained, etc. And nothing sloppily cleaned up by domestic amateurs. Nothing particularly out of place in the living area, either. All in all, nothing outside of the door and the workshop seemed remotely out of place.

That was, until...

Marita's discovery served as an oddly shaped piece of a jigsaw puzzle that didn't quite fit into what was already put together. The habitable areas and workshop contained places where money or foodstuffs might be held by normal people going about normal lives. Cabinets, a small pantry, a lock box behind the counter; things of this nature. They had all been emptied. This might be common for a robbery, or for looters after the fact. But what was not so common about this was the fact that the interior wood of those containers was gouged with deep scratches, like something with claws or sharp nails had emptied them quickly.

Jacques Mallard, Silversmith

Jacques nodded soberly at Kathryn's expressed desire to not have bloodshed, but he did not waver in his attentiveness to his own defense. His eyes darted between Kathryn and Kosara, peering seemingly to pick out even minute detail before humoring to drop a sliver of his guard. When the tall warrior placed the ring on her tongue and kept it there for a time, his face visibly softened into something like cautious relief. he nodded again, now turning his full attention to Kosara.

The silversmith did his best to maintain his composure while he waited for the Tiefling to place the ring on her tongue, giving no outward indication that he might address her questions before this event took place. Satisfied by whatever result this challenge presented, he moved his crossbow's business end to the side, so that it did not point directly at either of the two women in his establishment. Actual, full relief crossed his features as he let out a breath and prepared to address his visitors.

It was about this time that Kosara began the bulk of her monologue that took them all on an interesting verbal journey, much of which was completely without context for Mr. Jacques Mallard. He flashed with confusion at the mention of "Mr. Cloverwish", and seemed fully disturbed by the accusation that he was up until recently a prisoner. Jacques began to slowly back up toward the counter, a look of pure shock and incredulity plastered across his features. His mouth moved briefly and soundlessly for a moment until he was finally able to clearly enunciate: "Get out. Both of you, right now. Get out."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Brindleton's Woodworking Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Victoria gave a lingering look back to Rickard as he suddenly had someplace else to be. Had he found something that was more pressing to his personal task? This and a few other questions pressed into her mind until a simple fact about her situation came alight within the Half-Elf's awareness: She was alone in a building which did not belong to her, where someone was likely taken against their will, which was hastily and sloppily covered up. Victoria was no great pillar of sage wisdom (elements from her history led to to this painful but obvious conclusion), but even she could figure out that, were there nefarious forces about, she would be an obvious target for their attentions. No, it was probably best to get herself out into the public eye with measured haste. Sometimes her ability to draw attention to herself kept her safe. Safer, anyway.

The noble-born Elf had left before he divulged any information about what he might or might not have found throughout his investigation, which left the now quite solitary Bard at a disadvantage. This thought was blunted slightly by the logical understanding that she was technically not alone. Her eyes dated briefly down to her undead companion, Morty, who was standing very still with an vacant expression on its burlap-wrapped, hickory-smoked visage. Okay, so the creature was as dumb as a sack of hammers and had no initiative on its own aside from following the standing orders of its creator, but the poor mockery of life had its uses. A meatslab bodyguard with tusks was better than nothing at all.

There was also the fact that Rickard was the only one with a key to the woodworker's shop, so if she left without securing the place somehow, there would be no whisper of a guarantee that more wouldn't happen in their absence. Victoria looked about, annoyed at the obvious and poor job of cleaning which was done. It was insulting, really. And if anyone with nefarious intent showed up to complete the job, then what clues might have been left stood a greater chance of disappearing. Sighing, Victoria crossed over to the work area of the shop and snatched up a piece of furniture fabric. She carefully used it to gather up the bit of scraggly hair which was caught on the interior door lock. There wasn't a thought as to what she might do with it later on, but it seemed like it could be used as a comparison piece, provided they found something similar elsewhere. Victoria's grasp on divination was simply not suitable to the task otherwise.

Movement from the other side of the slightly ajar door caught Victoria's attention. She mentally summoned Morty over to her in case it was something more dangerous than a local shopkeeper or laborer and slowly pushed open the door a little bit more, ready for whatever might come next.

Her careful expression turned to something more pleasant when she saw that it was Marita. The door opened more fully and she exclaimed, "Why hello there, Marita!" Victoria continued, "However did you find this place so quickly? Well, no matter. I couldn't find a whole lot in here..." A thoughtful look crossed her visage as she debated saying anything else in what was open public, even if foot traffic was sparse in the area at that point in time. The Half-Elf dropped the volume of her voice a little and stepped closer, informing, "The dressmaker's place is supposed to be around here, I think. Unless you would prefer to put a fresh set of eyes on this place?" She carefully produced the hair wrapped in fabric to show briefly before putting it back away, her voice quieting even more, "All I found was this, whatever it means. And I think someone has been in here since yesterday. I might ask the Lord High Elf about the implications, but I believe that he might have parted ways with us."

The undead pig remained quietly at Victoria's heel, awaiting orders. She glanced down to it, then back up to Marita. With a whisper and mischievous smile, she quipped at a half-whisper, "Oh! Morty says 'Hi'."

Morty, well... he just stood there.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil

And welcome back! The shiny, new update is up and there is a bit to respond to. For anyone who was not fully aware or hasn't seen the Discord for a while, we are now short one frontliner. Said frontliner's player has departed voluntarily and on good terms; should they wish to re-enter at a later point in the adventure, all is peachy.

Counters got a little funky there for a bit, but rest assured everyone is in good standing in regards to timing and such. I will make a post for Purple Bardy McDeathchick within the next two days to keep things aligned properly in this way.

As per usual, for any questions, requests, and/or skill checks, please send me a line in our Discord. And give yourselves a big round of applause for sticking with it this far! From this point, things start getting weird. Best of luck.