The Sentinel and The Minstrel

The Sentinel followed the advancement of the laboring men and their marvelous work since they came into sight of the mountains weeks ago. They have since stopped their vigorous progress of construction in the shadow of Mount Galardrym. 

Sounds throughout the night indicate they have likely run afoul with the Forgebar tribes. Easy to offend the warrior tribes the Sentinel mused as he focused his attention for the appearance of the Minstrel. It was this song-maker that aroused his interest; the music was a language strong and powerful, and motivated the Sentinel to know more. Every morning the Minstrel's tones of inspiration would incite the builders throughout the day seemingly maximizing their construction. 

Curiosity was not solely his to claim, however; in the weeks preceding, the Sentinel found that the Minstrel provoked unpredictable reactions —most recently here before him, the ire sparked in the Forgebar tribes.

The Sentinel peered around surveying the great white North; it was cold, beautiful, and mysterious- full of life and death. Eventually the Sentinel rested his attention on the camped laborers as he again waited in anticipation for the Minstrel to appear. 

Brightmantle

The curious Melairkyn browsed nearly every map, book, and scroll within Maskado’s small but popular book shop. 

The dwarf had a sly and intelligent characteristic to him as he proved to be well read, rejecting no book or scroll on account of the language written or symbols used.

He appeared to be singularly interested in the local geography as well as trade practices of the cities and tribes of the north; paying careful attention to each book that referenced lands, terrain, climate, and any community or settlement.

One such book was a study into the origins of trade in Waterdeep and the North, this he purchased among other works while the Samular Tet researched and spoke with the Oghma scribes; finding in vain Netherese relics and scrolls-- spoils of Helm's Hold.

On his way out the Melaikyn dwarf stopped before of a board full of classifieds and notices. A single message, larger than any of its companions, it had an official look to it. The dwarf took obvious exception to  this one because—quick as a flash—he tore it down leaving behind no trace. As the dwarf performed this dexterous feat, the Samular Tet could see the word ‘Brightmantle’ deeply engraved in the dwarf’s only visible weapon-- a long barreled silver pistol.

Making sure his larceny went unnoticed the dwarf gathered his purchases, lit a cigarette, and entered the vivid and magnificent streets of Neverwinter. 

The Post:

CELEBRATE YEAR’S END IN NEVERWINTER

Close the year and come to Neverwinter during Year’s End for the ribbon cutting ceremony officially opening the NEW High Road to Waterdeep!

Soul Searching

Kagon was born to Ruesha Andri and an elven hero called the Wild Shadow. Ruesha’s family was not wealthy, but what she lacked in coin Ruesha made up for in beauty and kindness. Raised in the opulent streets of Neverwinter she met the Wild Shadow, a swashbuckling elf who hunted pirates and evil sea dragons along the Sword Coast. 

Fifty-six years later Kagon-Andri has honed his ranger skills to perfection balancing human practicality with elven superiority with the longbow. A weapon given to him by Sai Riverwind: the Emerald Arrow.

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Tunlactun was raised in the ways and tenants of Helm, the god of guardians. He is a fierce, pious man who is not afraid of any type of battle weather by blade or by debate; until the Time of Troubles. It was during that long fateful night when Tunlactun’s faith was shaken because on that night the gods fought and despite his greatest efforts to protect the people of Neverwinter- hundreds died as Bane and Tyr battled for over two full days.

Months later and for the first time since the godsfall, a call to action swelled the conviction in what he holds dear- the protection of a group of souls from Waterdeep with far greater aspirations.

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Chief Ruga Alaric is a powerful leader of the Black Lion Uthgardt barbarian clan; a tribe that has either left the lands of the North or have been entirely killed.  Nevertheless the Black Lion tribesmen have eluded discovery by Chief Ruga for many seasons. Strength is a respected attribute among barbarians across the seven realms, but the Black Lion clans also valued the strength of will and for Chief Ruga this was yet another test of strength.  

Wandering the streets of Neverwinter excited words roused him from is inner thoughts: Fighters of Fury- for Chief Ruga Alaric the ways have been opened.

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Fawling had many aliases and countless names in nearly as many cities in the North, his favorite was Riddler. Indeed the short and stout Fawling loved to stymie opponents long enough to gain the advantage in any encounter and more often than not, he would walk away richer because of it. Which is why Fawling felt the decadence of Neverwinter hospitality was about to expire for him.

Walking with a newly purchased map from Maskado’s, Fawling (for that was as good a name as any) eyed the symbol for Waterdeep with the hope of seeing the cobles, castles, and temples of the City of Splendors again and as Luck would have it, four Nobles from Waterdeep are in town soon to leave for points south. 

Borak Burliehelm's Hounds

The Plott Hound is a cunning and confident big-game hunting dog with a fierce and tenacious nature on the trail and an even, affectionate and loyal temperament in the home. He stands out for his speed and spirit. If you want a dog that can hunt anything from raccoon to bear, the Plott is for you. If you want just a pet, he might be a little more than you can or want to handle. Here’s what you need to know if you’re interested in acquiring one of these striking, hard-working, protective dogs. 

Plotts can adapt to living indoors or outdoors, but the most important thing to know about them is that they need human companionship. The Plott is an aggressive, bold, fearless hunter who is loyal, intelligent, and alert. The Plott’s skin is not as loose and droopy as that of some scenthounds, and his ears aren’t as long.

The Plott has a distinctive “chop” — a loud, staccato, ringing bark that lets the hunter know he is on the trail of or has treed his prey.

The Plott is the dog of choice for big-game hunters in search of bears, cougars, or hogs. They are also used to tree raccoons, and many farmers like to keep them as all-purpose dogs.

The Plott’s smooth, fine coat can be any shade of brindle, black with brindle trim, solid black, or buckskin, which ranges from red fawn through sandy red, light cream, yellow ochre, dark fawn or golden tan.

The City of Neverwinter

Manual of Dragons

Manual of Monsters (Dragons)

Aura: minor divination; CL: 3rd

Slot: —; Price: 2,450 gp; Weight: 5 lbs.

Description:

A manual of monsters is a heavy, hardbound tome of lore, with a hide cover and many pages of illustrations of vicious dragons, along with select lore about them.

Each manual of monsters gives information on a single dragon type (detailed below). If the wielder studies the manual for 15 minutes each day, for 24 hours he gains a +8 bonus to Knowledge checks made to identify creatures of that type and their powers and weaknesses. Each manual of monsters can be used for study only once each day—after that its words and illustrations blur into illegibility until 24 hours have passed.

Construction Requirements: Craft Wondrous Items, augury; Cost: 1,225 gp. (Source: Loot4Less 9)

These Samular relics were scripted, researched, and illustrated by Endrick Thunderstaff; each unique tome also features probable locations of the each dragon type, current to the time it was written.

(Black) The Evermoors

(Blue) Nether Mountains

(Brown) Greycloak Hills

(Gold) Hotenow Mountain

(Green) Turlang’s Wood

(Grey/Fang) The Lost Peaks

(Yellow) Neverwinter Wood

The Zhentarim

The Zhentarim or the Black Network in some Realms are a collection of egotistical evil arcane spellcasters, clerics and priests, as well as warriors, and rogues by the hundreds each devoted to attaining dominance and ruler-ship over everything in their preview. It is a organization of many intelligent races unified in their wanton desire for power.

Anything that cannot be controlled outright must be threatened into compliance or hobbled and crippled so that it can never pose a threat. This desire to rule manifests itself in many ways in the objectives of the Zhentarim, which in the North seem to encompass: Establish a monopoly on trade between the Moonsea, the Sea of Fallen Stars, and the Cities of The Sword Coast, in particular Waterdeep. Destroy all who stand in the way of these objectives.

 Through blood dampened lips the corpse of Oran spoke the names of seven Black Network agents secretly operating in Waterdeep: Maskul Mirrormane, Lord Ferestian Halaster, Vicarzo DeMarcain, Delrach the Vile, Boris Nahal, Rikus and Wijon.

Boris Nahal was raised in the ways of the Black Network. He is a fierce brute who has never fled from or avoided a battle. He observes the disciplines of the Zhentarim and his clan with crewel bloodthirsty abandon. Like other members of The Strangers he is able to seamlessly blend unnoticed into any city's power structure and take control.

Thundertree At A Glance

Thundertree as it is called today owes its name to a long lost but not forgotten tribe in Chult who, in their naiveté welcomed a group of foreign adventurers into their tribe about three hundred years ago. 

For a year and a day the primitive tribesmen and the strange cultured men shared everything from social customs and ceremonies, introducing new exotic foods, and taught each other different ways of hunting and survival. 

After a long palaver the tribal elders, in a dispute that resulted in many tribal fights, shared with the explorers their most precious secret. Adored and held sacred by the Thundertree tribe was Zalantar.  Also called the Black-Wood, it is a pure ebony wood unique to the jungles of Chult that is durable and pliable excellent for bows. Their leaves are usually white or a light autumnal color. The buds of the trees that bloom each Full Earth have seeds that are said to possess holistic healing and restorative properties.

Zalantars are a botanical oddity in the sense that one plant is composed of several trees that stem from a central root making them one of the longest lived trees of the Realms. A closely guarded secret to the Thundertree tribe until the strange men from the north, in an act of greed and desire, stole the tribe’s store of Zalantar seeds and each took young a virgin woman as a bride before leaving the betrayed tribe in disarray and chaos.  

The explorers started as four adventurous brothers: two sets of twins, however on the voyage north one of the brothers was murdered by his treacherous bride. Undaunted the twins Lorin and Dhoran and the surviving twin Caramon traveled north on both sea and trail with their treasures and later settled along the warm and rich Neverwinter river. Here the transplanted Zalantar thrived and bore fruit in the year-round temperate climate of the Neverwinter Wood as did the families of the adventurers and their coffers.

Riverwind Family Estate and a Zalantar Tree

Three-hundred years later, generations of the Riverwind family invested their acquired wealth to build a frontier settlement of sturdy, well-made cabins for the lumberjacks and hunters who enjoy prime year-round hunting and logging. Nearly all of the furriers, leatherworkers, rangers, and breeders work for the Riverwind family, a clan who pride themselves today at ninety members—more kin than even the Roaringhorns of Waterdeep. What makes their number so high is the preponderance of twins that seem commonplace in many Riverwind family births.

Notable personages-

                                                                                                                     

Halden Tark: A cordial but sturdy man with an imposing appearance. His large size and obvious strength dissuades most fights and raucous games of chance at the Brewery—Thundertree’s only watering hole.

Borak Burliehelm: Breeder of Darovoi and likely the oldest dwarf in all the North. The tales of the threaded hunting dogs produced by his kennels are widely known and prized throughout the North.  

Peregrine Riverwind

Theodoric Waybeard: An elderly exiled priest from Helm’s Hold, not much is known about this man other than he is advanced in years, sickly, and does not see anyone—not since the advent of the Time of Troubles.

Elianna Amberstar: The official barony ranger and captain of the Riverwind family guard.

Neeva Harpel: Educator, sage, appraiser, and local magic expert.

  

Dwyam Marz: Former adventurer with a quick draw recount of tales about many of his adventures and, as many former adventurers do, is also the manager of The Pavilion Thundertree’s only Inn, owned by the Riverwind family.

Peregrine Riverwind: Master ranger, craftsman, and the most likable of the Riverwind family, unfortunately his weekly hunts and fellowship with the working class earn him rueful disdain from his highbrow family.    

We Deal In Lead, Friend

"Welcome to the Brewery folks,” came the well-oiled greeting known only by a practiced professional; “can I get you two fine travelers something to drink, a pint of graff or mayhap a stein of Herdsmen Ale?” In the background, sounds of constant shuffling as well as the deep drum of voices in blurred congress filled the silence between this verbal exchange.

“How much is a bottle of Blacksmith whiskey Sai? The Firehammer label.” asked a coarse but fair male voice in response. Somewhere a whip cracked and a hoarse bawled in protest just as a nearby woman laughed, squalling like a loon.

“That depends,” came the first solicitous voice. “On what kind of metal are we talking about?” A pause, then a metallic smack cut through the din of collateral activity.

“We deal in lead, friend” purred a woman’s voice, her familiar accent deeply laced with a warrior’s determination sharp edged and deadly.

Elsewhere the slurred voice of a man yelled, “ok, how ‘bout in the rain toots?!” This prompted a lengthy round of raucous laughter and banging commotion, but as the noise dimmed there arose a brief sound of flowing liquid, like water through a gulley then two dull thumps.

“I learned of your arrival last night… though I admit I was beginning to think no one would come north out of Waterdeep until after Wide Earth, things have changed around here and not for the better,” said the first cordial voice. “Mayhap you have even seen evidence of this yourself…” the man asked but his bitter tone sounded more like confirmation than an actual question.

“Aye we have, but that is not why we are here say sorry. We have come looking for an individual, a dangerous spy who has come into the possession of a tome that if unlocked, could identify every Harper in the North,” said the bottomless voice of the second man, putting an obvious verbal emphasis on the danger this poses. From beyond an invisible door opens and then slams shut followed by a wood on wood grating sound and the rush of wind.

                                                                       

“Do you say so? By the gods!” the groomed voice of the first man gasped.

“This is why we have come here Sai—to you to make use of the local Union. It is believed he hides somewhere near and there are those in Waterdeep that think the Union can help,” drawled the second man.  

“Do you have a description of this scoundrel? With Tymora’s luck I’ll have something helpful for you by sundown tomorrow—mayhap sooner by the gods. To whom does this rogue work for?” In the background many of the voices lowered as if wanting to hear the answer themselves.

The voice that arose to answer the question was the warm familiar voice of the woman. “We are looking for a man beyond thirty in years probably human, of average height but a stone or two on the heavy side; he has an acid scarred face hidden by a crude iron mask, and a voice—shrill like a bull-hag. The man often goes by the name Oran and though this man seems easy to identify Oran is the most elusive Zhentarium agent north of Secomber.”

Flame of Inspiration

Positioned two-hundred feet away from the four wizards were an equal measure of dark containers. Square shapes that shook with its occupant’s apparent displeasure. The specialized group of wizards, known by their displacer-beast cloaks, stood opposite each container in exhibition while spectators watched from the many vantage points available in the courtyard of the Order. Cold wind buffeted the black cloth that covered the containers further agitating the monsters or whatever was imprisoned inside. Placed in equal distance from the wizards and the containers where four objects each on low pedestals: a mirror that was obviously stylized for a woman; a smoking censer marked with symbols of peace and tranquility; a warrior’s helmet bedazzled with seven glowing sparkling jewels; and a flask of some unknown substance and benefit.

 

Klarenden Eltorchul watched it all from his high window that faced the wide courtyard, a silent measure of theater as he regarded the exhibition with apprehensive curiosity. He was ancient by comparison to his colleagues; weather worn and battle scarred. Hell he was even down to one eye, only to be replaced with a magical one later, but he was the greatest at his craft and the wizards of the Order knew it; loathed him for it. Behind him three women, also paragons of their craft, were working fixedly on their shared creation. Klarenden too had a bit of theater for the people of Waterdeep, but this was cutting things just a little too close. There was only one more demonstration before theirs and that, if rumors abide, was an iron golem and gods knows no one has ever seen an iron golem before.

Arialana Ilzimmer and her half-sister Kereth gained their prestige not by the breeding and husbandry of threaded horses that was by far the province of men and their squires. Instead Arialana and Kereth catered to noble women and consorts by becoming master fashionistas designing gowns and sculpting trademark jewelry.  This work they now toiled over was unlike any task set before them, Arialana enjoyed the challenge. Once an avid adventurer, Arialana now spends her time winning recognition in the Order. Kereth on the other hand has always done things her way and lamented the responsibility of weeks of work that came with this commission.              

Klarenden watches as down in the courtyard the four wizards waited with steady confidence for their opponents to be revealed. Without ceremony the four black coverings suddenly shrank and were gone, the creatures were momentarily blinded but it was all the chance the wizards had to identify them and formulate a plan.

Even from his high vantage, Klarenden identified the creatures immediately and felt a pang of anxiety. When the black cloths covered the monsters in what was assumed to be cages or equivalent containers, but when the black cloth was removed there was no cage and each angry creature was immediately freed.

On one platform was a small primate; a Kech with wrinkled green hide and flat matted fur like wide leaves, excellent for hiding in the forest. Next was a disgusting humanoid plant; shambling mound, one of the more aggressive forms of intelligent plants and a favored pawn of the green dragons. On another platform was a white spider the size of a hellhound with several pink eyes; a goblin spider, known for their excellent ventriloquism and mimicry abilities. Finally a small fey-creature stood out from under the aegis of the black cloth; a korred with thick a black beard, long hair, and goat lower-half. The creature had a murderous, suicidal look in his eye.

Klarenden turned form the spectacle and observed the scarlet-haired keeper of the divine flame praying over their creation resting on the work table. Crysania Hiilgauntlet looked more like a warrior of Tempus than a priestess of Kossuth; fiery tempered and lusty, educated, cultured, and capable of verbal sparring anyone into submission- there was little doubt to people’s misjudgment of her. One night she told Klarenden that she had been touched by the Lord of Flames and she possessed a deep burning conviction, while statement had various meanings it gave Klarenden the inspiration into what now sits before the four of them.

Screams and cries of pain from the courtyard streamed into the workroom occupied by the four spell casters Klarenden, the Ilzimmer sisters, and the priestess; taunting them telling them ‘the end is nigh’. Arialana and Kereth placed the item on the table and set down their tools their work was now completed, and took a step back giving the other two plenty of room. As Crysania whispered Ignan words of power into the item Klarenden gathered the carefully measured components and began to cast the spells to complete the item. Outside the cheers and shouts of triumph in these closing moments seemed directed at the four in the workroom than at the four in the courtyard.

Fire suddenly burst out breaking doors and shattering the workroom’s windows. Not a magical surge but confirmation that their work had been a success. Waking from the momentary disorientation that comes with a sudden blast of energy, the four stood to find all the tables, shelves, and furnishings had been turned to ash- instantaneously incinerated. One thing remained and that was the exquisite staff, the object of their labor for nineteen days. This was no normal staff however. The staff was seven feet tall and was made from duskwood a hardwood tree that is resistant to fire.

The insight that came to Klarenden that passionate night with Crysania was this staff, a Staff of Fire. He was a paragon of his craft with staffs each one greater than the last, but this inspiration would be his legacy. While Maskar Wands put the Order’s gold and resources into magical scrolls of fire and flame Klarenden Eltorchul would, with the help of others, create a Staff of Fire to contest with the dragon Frostburn- a staff invested with the very Aspect of Fire.