CH. 01 - The Mystery of the Lost Patrol

[Daos]

Three hundred and fifty four years ago, the entire world changed when the gods, in their fury, threw a fiery mountain into the holy city of Istar.

The incident, which later became known as 'The Cataclysm' shifted the world itself.  Mountains fell and seas rose.  Millions died.  The night before, all true clerics vanished without a trace, and nobody could call upon the powers of the divine again after that.  With no magical healing in existence, plague covered the land.  It was truly a dark time in history, and later became known as the Age of Despair.

But the Cataclysm had a greater impact than anyone knew.  Takhisis, the Dragon Queen, She of All Colors and None, was freed.  A thousand years before, this dark goddess of ambition and malice was banished from the world by the heroic Knight of Solamnia, Huma Dragonbane with a legendary weapon known as a dragonlance.  But now she was set loose on the world again, and she began her plans to dominate all of Ansalon.  She built up her armies, she created new priests who had actual divine power for the first time in centuries, and she had her minions steal away the eggs of the good dragons while they slept, to ensure they stay out of the conflict.  As her dragonarmies swept over the continent, it seemed Ansalon was doomed.

But not all hope was lost.  A band of heroes were chosen by the gods of light to return balance.  They discovered the old teachings of the gods and returned them to the people.  They also learned that the dragon eggs being held hostage had been mutated into dragon-like creatures called Draconians, the shock troops of Takhisis' armies.  This prompted the good dragons to return to help.  The lost secrets of forging dragonlances were rediscovered, as well.  And so, the remaining good nations banded together to form the Whitestone Army.  Knights of Solamnia, once reviled for failing to stop the Cataclysm, now donned dragonlances and rode atop metallic dragons.  Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Kender worked together to fight off the forces of darkness.  And in the end, they were victorious.  The dragonarmies were routed and scattered, and peace was restored to the land.

Or so it would have seemed.  One year after the war ended, trouble begins to brew again.  The Whitestone forces are stretched too thin as they try to track down the remaining dragonarmy forces spread throughout the land.  So a call is put out for aid--anyone brave enough is to head to Vingaard Keep to meet one Sir Karl Gaardsen, a Knight of the Rose who was wounded in the war and now serves as an advisor.

It is here, in the halls of Vingaard Keep, that our story begins.  Six would-be heroes gather to meet with Sir Gaardsen in his office.  As each one enters the waiting area, a petite red-haired woman sitting at the front desk offers them a seat.  "Sir Gaardsen will meet with you soon," she tells them.  They are a fresh Knight of the Crown, a half-elven man with a strange blue tint to his skin, a kender, a Silvanesti elf, a Neidar dwarf, and a handsome bard.

=============

It is Brookgreen 9th (early March), Fourth Watch (10 AM) in the year 354 AC (After Cataclysm).

(OOC:  While waiting for Gaardsen, use this opportunity to introduce your characters and maybe get to know each other a little bit.)

[Matt4]

Torquato Clorindidis

HP: 7/7 - AC: 13 - Perception: 13 - Insight: 11 - Inspiration: No

Vingaard was the latest stop in Torquato's quest to find informations about the brewing darkness Elias talked about in his letter.
His previous attempts didn't bear much fruit, many rumors were just that: rumors. And even when something actually regarding the dragonarmies turned up, it usually turned out to be just some surviving soldiers causing mahyem among a couple of farming villages.

Torquato lightly exhaled, as he leaned with his head on the wall behind him, waiting on his seat. For someone who took pride in his logical approach to life, this whole endevour he took upon himself seemed like a schoolboy's whim.

The elf looked around himself, at the small group of people gathered there. Apart from the woman who told them to wait there, the others were probably all adventurers interested in either glory or money or both. Still, it seemed an interesting lot, and who knows, usually among the blabbering of a kender or a bard an important information could be found.

"Say, has any of you heard something about what's happening lately around here?"

[GravityEmblem]

"No, nothing more than 'trouble brewing,'" Gordon answers curtly. "Same as you, I expect. Karl will probably shed some light on what sort."

[Frenata]

The half-elven man is dressed in simple leather armor and has his collar popped up around his neck. He greets the woman and asks her name, then puts his pack to the side and appraises the others around him. Two, no three soldiers. Two... scholarly types. We certainly won't lack brawn. He nods approvingly to himself.

He perks up as the elf breaks the ice. "Irregular forces have been harassing the area, but my instinct says a charismatic type must have finally gotten some of them organized, else we wouldn't be here."

Suddenly his attention snaps back to the knight. "I know you -- you were there at Vingaard. I was a fresh-faced recruit at the time, in way over my head." He chuckles to himself and extends his hand to the knight "I am called Rof."

[MaltholLoth]

*stands up, walks along the line, smiling at the others and letting his hands tap along the bags, in case their was something lost*

[Zero Prime]

Sir Dietrich Eckhardt, Novice of the Crown
ARMOR CLASS: 16 | HP's: 11 |CURRENT: 11 |HIT DIE: 1d10 | CURRENT: 1d10
PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 11 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 11 | INSPIRATION: 0
ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.
CONDITIONS: None.

Dietrich, as he road towards the Keep, couldn't escape his own thoughts, images of these streets, narrow alleys, as they had been years ago, when fleeing the invading Dragon armies, were still burned into his memory. As well as the nervous apprehension answering Ser Gaardsen's summons, knowing, full well, that his own dereliction of duty had cost his mentor, his sponsor to the Order, dearly, burdened as he was with an injury grievous enough that he chaffed at being in the saddle he once loved. He walked by Master Krieg's forge, now long gone, the ringing of it's anvils, silenced forever. He stopped, ran a hand along his chin, as he considered the alehouse that had replaced the Master's forge. No, he needed to be clear headed for his meeting with Gaardsen, his knightly clothes were out dated, thread bare, not of the quality befitting a knight. He chided himself, a knight without a Lord, a sponsor, or even a horse, Gaardsen's summons was perhaps, a blessing, or an opportunity to comment on his current status, and lack of station. However, if the people of Vingaard were in danger, he owed it to Master Krieg, and to Gaardsen himself, to stand resolute in their defense, and prove himself worthy of the title of Novice of the Crown.

He regarded the others in the chamber, listening to their exchanges, he Tsk'd slightly at the Neidar's usage of Ser Gaardsen's first name, a friend perhaps? Or someone, simply ignorant of the proper honorifics of the Solamnics? Dietrich could count, on one hand, the number of times he had called Ser Gaardsen, Karl, and only the last two times had left him without a scolding, and Dietrich had served under the man for coming on a decade.

Lost in his own thoughts, he almost started as the lanky rogue introduced himself, he nodded, stood up, and took Rof's hand in his own, calloused, grip. "Sir Dietrich Eckhardt, Novice of the Crown, it is my humble pleasure to make your acquaintance." His eyes, however, grew dark at the mention of the sacking of Vingaard, "That was a," he paused, to clear his throat, "a dark day for many, and I, myself, only a squire to men far greater than myself." He looked towards the room, stopping his gaze on the Neidar warrior a moment longer. "A word of caution, Ser Gaardsen was my sponsor to the order, I served him as squire, and page before that. He is not one given to familiarity, he has earned his title, t'would be wise to use it."

"Now, it may be of some value to know with whom I share this audience," he looked to the half elf rogue, "good ser Rof, here, I now know, and the rest of you kind sers?"

[MaltholLoth]

Robin Smallhill 

Male Kender Ranger 1

ARMOR CLASS: 13 | HP's: 10/10 |HIT DIE: 1d10 / 1d10
PASSIVE PERCEPTION: | PASSIVE INSIGHT: | INSPIRATION:
ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.
CONDITIONS: None.


Stops eavesdropping and bounces on over half barging in between them.

"Robin Smallhill's the name" he says, barely giving Sir Dietrich chance to withdraw his hand from Rof's before putting his own to it and staring up into his eyes. 

[GravityEmblem]

Gordon sighs at Eckhart. He's gonna be one of those knights, isn't he...he thinks. Nonetheless, he gives him a bow. "Gordon Ruktrekker. No title required or wanted."

[Matt4]

Torquato Clorindidis

HP: 7/7 - AC: 13 - Perception: 13 - Insight: 11 - Inspiration: No

Torquato rolls his eyes at the mentions of titles and whatever - Dear Gods, I will never escape those dull formalities.

"Torquato." - he says briskly, before continuing more politely: "Of the Clorindidis family line, member of House Protector."
The last thing he needed as of now was a duel because someone felt offended by him, so he figured it was better to introduce himself properly.
"But please, just Torquato is fine." - the elf pleaded.

[Zero Prime]

Sir Dietrich Eckhardt, Novice of the Crown
ARMOR CLASS: 16 | HP's: 11 |CURRENT: 11 |HIT DIE: 1d10 | CURRENT: 1d10
PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 11 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 11 | INSPIRATION: 0
ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.
CONDITIONS: None.

Dietrich greeted each in turn, ignoring, or oblivious, to the rolling of eyes, or varied sighs of his companions. "Robin Smallhill, Gordon Ruktrekker, Torquato Clorindi ...," stumbling over the Sylvanestri name, before remembering that the robed elf preferred a simpler form of address, "Torquato." He repeated the names, greeting in return, a handshake, a bow, and a nod, committing them to memory. "It is my pleasure to meet each of you." He paused before continuing, "With Spring Dawning should be in a few weeks. Likely means a great number of travelers and merchants, so if we can prevent any trouble the people of Vingaard keep would be the better for it."

[Kvard51]

"Abelaard of Palanthus, a Bard and Historian of some renown.  I've been sent by The Great Library to record the deeds, fair and foul, as they happen in this time and place."  He looks around importantly, "Well met, adventurers."

[GravityEmblem]

"Well, I'd better treat you well, if I want history to be written in my favor!" Gordon jokes.

[Zero Prime]

Sir Dietrich Eckhardt, Novice of the Crown
ARMOR CLASS: 16 | HP's: 11 |CURRENT: 11 |HIT DIE: 1d10 | CURRENT: 1d10
PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 11 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 11 | INSPIRATION: 0
ACTIVE EFFECTS: None.
CONDITIONS: None.

Dietrich nodded, "Master Bard?" He paused, in both reverence and respect. "Master Abelaard," he extended a hand towards the man, "Gordon speaks well, with one such as yourself in our company, the knowledge of ages past will be revealed; our task that much likely to succeed."

[Daos]

At this point, the door in the back opens and a man can be seen on the other side.  He is an older knight with salt and peppered hair, and tanned skin. His long mustache is kept in proper Solamnic fashion, and his plate armor contains all the trappings of his station as a Knight of the Rose.

"Miss Moneycopper, you can send them in now," he says, his accent surprisingly not Solamnic, but more Sancrist.  He then steps away, a noticeable limp in his left leg.

The young woman gestures to the open door.  "Sir Karl Gaardsen will see you now," she tells the group.

The six men file inside and find themselves in a spacious but rather spartan office.  What little decorations are various battle trophies on the walls, like old weapons and shields, including what appears to be a large dragonlance (although on closer inspection, it would appear to be a replica).  Otherwise, the only thing of note is a small silver figurine of a dragon coiled on his desk.

Gaardsen stands over by his desk, hands clasped behind his back, looking out the window.  Turning toward the group, he says, "Please, take a seat, make yourselves comfortable."  In front of the desk are several chairs, should anyone wish to sit.  He limps over to his desk and sits down.  "It's good to see you again, Dietrich.  Ah, I suppose I should get used to saying 'Sir Dietrich' now instead," he corrects himself.  Congratulations again on your knighthood.  Even with the war over, we need good men like you in our ranks, more than ever."

[Matt4]

Torquato Clorindidis

HP: 7/7 - AC: 13 - Perception: 13 - Insight: 11 - Inspiration: No

"Well, I sincerely hope it's not just guard duty for a fair the occasion we've been summoned for." - Torquato says.

He almost flinched at the mention of The Great Library. It was a place that he heard mentioned multiple times, by Elias of course. It was one of the thing he was most excited about when he planned his journey to Palanthas, but alas he wasn't really in the mood to visit it after what happened.
That thought soured Torquato's mood: "Well, Sir Gaardsen sure likes to take his time." - he was going to say, if not for the back door opening. Finally, one would say!

The elf quickly enters the knight office, and gladly accept the offer and takes a sit.

"Sir Gaardsen." - Torquato says with a nod of his head as he sits down. - "About the reason you summoned us here... With what task, specifically, you need aid for?"