Session 16: We're on our Waymoot
General Summary
The Journey to Waymoot
The party gathered in Waymoot, their arrival marked by a pervasive gloom in the surrounding forests, a foreboding shadow that seemed to stalk their progress. They soon found respite at The Silver Wink Inn, a renowned establishment offering luxury unmatched in comfort and refinement.
Waymoot: Intrigue and Distractions
The Silver Wink became the hub of the party’s activities. As they mingled with patrons, they were approached individually by Liriel Nightstar, a flamboyant Drow who claimed to be a member of the Harpers, a secretive organization dedicated to combating evil across the realms. Liriel offered assistance, though his true motives remained unclear.
Lucky ingratiated themselves with the inn’s patrons, particularly Master Malice and The Silver Refrain, a celebrated troupe of bards. A deal was struck to spread Lucky’s tales far and wide, solidifying his growing legend.
Meanwhile, Bob, concerned about recognition or simply indulging in his unique sense of humour, spent the entire Waymoot portion of the adventure disguised in a bucket with two crudely cut eyeholes. The disguise turned heads and elicited both bemusement and confusion from locals, though it somehow avoided outright suspicion.
Lucky also sought out Dhag Greybeard, the boisterous town crier known as “The Herald,” venturing to Woodbrand Keep, the seat of the Krell family, to enlist his help.
War Wizard Pursuit
The party’s respite was short-lived as a chapter of War Wizards arrived in Waymoot, clearly tracking their trail. Forced into hiding within their rented room, the party devised a clever ruse to divert the wizards. A song, composed and planted with the help of Lizbet and the bards, pointed the wizards toward Marsember. Lizbet’s convincing confirmation sealed the deception, and the wizards departed in haste.
Before leaving Waymoot, the party met with Liriel Nightstar, a Harper, at his magical wares shop, where arrangements were made for passage to Tyrluk with a gnomish merchant. Bob, still wearing his bucket disguise, added an extra layer of surreal humour to the otherwise tense proceedings.
Tyrluk Who's Talking
The party’s arrival in Tyrluk was met with less-than-warm hospitality. The gnome merchant parted irritably, and their introduction to Charn, a gruff dwarven blacksmith, was similarly cold. The party’s frustrations mounted as they entered The Old Mans Face, Tyrluk’s local tavern. The tavern was alive with the raucous voices of Purple Dragons, who were deep in their cups and singing a drunken ballad with boisterous enthusiasm. Their off-key chorus added to the charged atmosphere of the evening. An unnatural tension settled over the group, fueled by the Harbinger of Fury’s influence. The atmosphere seemed to infect the party as well, leading to a series of heated exchanges: • Lucky quipped, “Oh, Solas, shining beacon of Helm’s divine glory, tell me—does it hurt to have a stick lodged so deeply that even Helm himself couldn’t pry it out? Or do you just radiate holiness to compensate for having no sense of humor whatsoever? Truly, you’re an inspiration to statues everywhere.” • Bob retorted, “Your plans always go sideways, and yet here we are, still pretending you know what you’re doing. It’s like betting on a mule to win a horse race.” The most vicious of all came from Shadow; "Lucky, it’s no wonder Lisbet died shortly after reuniting with you - being raised from the dead probably wasn’t a second chance. It was her one-way ticket to hell." The sharp words were caused by an aura saturating the area, amplifying anger and frustration even within the normally tight-knit group. Retreating upstairs for the night, the party secured their room with Lucky’s magical dome, shielding them from external threats. During the night, three stealthy figures attempted to breach their defenses but were thwarted by the magical barrier. Solas, leaving the dome unnoticed, followed the intruders and observed them conversing with Viggo Mola behind the tavern. When he revealed himself, the three figures, clad in leathered hunter gear, turned on him, steel drawn, their intentions clear. The session ended with Solas standing firm against the armed intruders, his presence alone forcing a confrontation in the shadowy alley behind the tavern.
The party’s arrival in Tyrluk was met with less-than-warm hospitality. The gnome merchant parted irritably, and their introduction to Charn, a gruff dwarven blacksmith, was similarly cold. The party’s frustrations mounted as they entered The Old Mans Face, Tyrluk’s local tavern. The tavern was alive with the raucous voices of Purple Dragons, who were deep in their cups and singing a drunken ballad with boisterous enthusiasm. Their off-key chorus added to the charged atmosphere of the evening. An unnatural tension settled over the group, fueled by the Harbinger of Fury’s influence. The atmosphere seemed to infect the party as well, leading to a series of heated exchanges: • Lucky quipped, “Oh, Solas, shining beacon of Helm’s divine glory, tell me—does it hurt to have a stick lodged so deeply that even Helm himself couldn’t pry it out? Or do you just radiate holiness to compensate for having no sense of humor whatsoever? Truly, you’re an inspiration to statues everywhere.” • Bob retorted, “Your plans always go sideways, and yet here we are, still pretending you know what you’re doing. It’s like betting on a mule to win a horse race.” The most vicious of all came from Shadow; "Lucky, it’s no wonder Lisbet died shortly after reuniting with you - being raised from the dead probably wasn’t a second chance. It was her one-way ticket to hell." The sharp words were caused by an aura saturating the area, amplifying anger and frustration even within the normally tight-knit group. Retreating upstairs for the night, the party secured their room with Lucky’s magical dome, shielding them from external threats. During the night, three stealthy figures attempted to breach their defenses but were thwarted by the magical barrier. Solas, leaving the dome unnoticed, followed the intruders and observed them conversing with Viggo Mola behind the tavern. When he revealed himself, the three figures, clad in leathered hunter gear, turned on him, steel drawn, their intentions clear. The session ended with Solas standing firm against the armed intruders, his presence alone forcing a confrontation in the shadowy alley behind the tavern.
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