Session 1-01: Going Down the Rat Hole

General Summary

Year 116 on Heilagtag the 8th day of Kalt
The party meets, as the early winter drops a blanket of snow on the mountain pass. Three groups of travelers find their way into the safety of the Dead Raven Tavern and Inn, in a seemly quiet mountain valley of Pine Grove located on the road from Argos and the Sylvan Forest of Blackstone Woods. Coming from the north a dragonborn and teifling travel into the Valley of Pine Grove, beating the storms blocking of the passes by a few hours. A few odd looks by the dwellers of the town as they found their way into the tavern and a Leary barmaid fetches them, the meal of the night, a hearty beef stew. They settle in as weary local villagers start making their way in after a hard winter day. As the sun starts to dip below the higher peaks of the surrounding Snowfrost mountains, a half-elf, and a human come in from the southern road. The half-elf had found the human a few hours earlier, ill-prepared for the journey and only roughly knowing where her destination was, a temple of Shallya rumored to be in this area. Luck favored the disciple of Shallya's teachings as the half-elf was familiar with the region through prior travels in this part of the world; he acted as a guide for the rest of the journey. They, as well find shelter from the weather in the Dead Raven Tavern. Whilst they believed their journey was at an end, they accidentally sat at the same table after ordering their food and shared some more conversation over dinner. Making passage down the eastern pass, following a river that is quickly trying to ice over. Two more half-elves find their way to the edge of the village as the last rays of sunlight are snuffed out and brief darkness takes the valley before the first of two moons rise over the mountain peaks. The half-elf dressed in black puts into town, while her companion an archer circles the town holding back retreating into the pine trees that give the valley its name. The light from the tavern windows flickers off the darkly dressed half-elves outfit as a follower of Morr, the god of the underworld stares at the name of the tavern. The Dead Raven! What an affront of the guard of the Dead, the protector of souls departed from the mortal world. Annoyed She enters the Tavern beelining to the bartender serving drinks to inquire on such a name. The last unexpected guest a blonde noblewoman makes a stir from an attitude that entered the room well before she managed to gain entry herself. Her bag man came in a few minutes later, and seemed to pay for a room, and took several bags upstairs above the tavern. Food was served and eaten by most. And as the mainstay of any good Tavern, Music by the fire and rumors let loose from the lips of the drinking men soon followed. The dragon born keen of ear picked up on talk from a William Digger and friend about the cemetery at the edge of town has had a few bodies go missing. Turning around in his chair, he and the tiefling offered services to the local gravedigger to investigate the mysterious disappearance of the dead. While this was happening the Priestess of Shallya excused herself for her room and a night’s rest. As the follower of Morr continued asking the bartender of local information was pointed in the direction of Mr. William Digger as well. With the deal in the works, the follower of Morr, from lands afar came a calling on the conversation held by the dragonborn, tiefling and Mr. Digger. It is then, that the follower of Morr who is language impaired in the lands of Argos, and speaking the tongue of war-torn lands to the south try's to find common communicative ground. As several welcoming phrases pass between the group, looking for common ground, the infernal dialect is spoken. A few astute party members notice the blonde angry nobles head switches direction and with an ear cocked, she strains to hear the conversation as it continues. The dragon born stands, in need of more than words, and begins making his way toward the cemetery as the second moon starts its climb into the sky chasing its big sister. The teifling and follower of Morr leave with him. And a few minutes later the half-elf works surreptitiously to follow. Graveyard outside of town. The winds of winter fury beat down on this ragtag band of misfits, as they work slowly into the graveyard. Noises of scraping sounds are barely heard over the winds howl. Then movement! Slow but they all saw something move next to a gravestone near the large mausoleum. Coming around on two sides they move up, to find a rat. A quickly dead rat, who screech over the wind turns to a gurgling sound as the blood fills its lounges. More movement a Humanoid rat shorter than a human but not by much pops up. Short bow in hand the foul creature aims and let loose an arrow sinking deep into the half elf’s leg. A second shot follows quickly behind the first, but the luck of Ranald is with the band of misfits as its string breaks. Fearing a direct confrontation, the rat creature runs toward the large mausoleum and disappears into a hole. While several large rats cover its escape. After the group dispatches the rats; they begin to search the mausoleum lead by the dragonborn and the half-elf, while the follower of Morr guards at the rear watching the hole the rat creature went into. The teifling, however, is distracted by two of the town watch, who have been assigned the job of checking up on the graveyard in the middle of the night. While our teifling is attempting to pacify an agitated town watch. His companion the dragonborn is heard breaking into the mausoleum and then setting the insides on fire in a vain attempt to find the missing rat creature. Good fortune or a long career of spinning things for the better allows the teifling to calm the watch despite the shenanigans directly behind him. The follower of Morr took this moment of distraction to rebury the body that the rat creature had started to pull out of its eternal slumber. She cast some form of magic, to help bury everything while giving a prayer for his torment soul. Thus, the guards growing impatient and having an utter lack of desire to hang out at a graveyard. Did Hasten their desire to put end to the nights' adventure. Calling the group out to march back to the town for an individual’s superior to them to question the group further. The march back to town, lit by the twin moons at there joint brightest, reflected off the snow that had been falling most of the day. The wind whipped at them with gusts and flurries. Depleted in strength the group made its way with the town watch back to Pine Grove. The guards next in command was almost as useless as the two that drug the group here. After a slight debate betwixt the three, it was decided to avoid waking their Captain over such unimportant nonsense and escorted the group to the Inn they were staying at till morning. The half-elf pin cushion went upstairs to wake the human disciple of Shallya where she tended first with first aid the care of the wound. Followed by a healing blessing of her goddess to heal her road companion and guide. The group quickly fell to sleep after the cold and long day of travel and excitement. Year 116 on Kuntag the 9th day of Kalt
The morning after Awaking to a fine meal from the tavern downstairs; of pork belly, fresh eggs and hard bread. The group comes back together to calculate their next move. The more worldly half-elf identified the rat creature as a skaven. A vile creature that undermines civilization and often infest the sewers of larger towns. The group meets shortly thereafter with the captain of the guard, Reece. Reece holds the dubious honor of being the responsible party of the night watchmen. At least most of the group does, as they are devoid a follower of Morr. Reece is firm but reasonable as they exchange an account of what happened. As well as how the group even came to be entwined in the middle of the incident occurring the night past. Reece declared a field trip and escorted the party back to the scene of last night’s action. Upon arrival at the graveyard, evidence of the rat slaughter was clearly sprayed across the clean white snow. The follower of Morr was there with William Digger, working on removing the rat carcasses to be burned and overseeing cleanup of the disturbed gravesite. A gravesite, that was now empty. It seems the skaven had returned in the small hours of the night to remove the body; that the group had almost protected. The follower of Morr believed he was not alone in the latter theft of the body. With the light of day, and the group back she grew brave and crawled into the rat warren under the mausoleum. A path that took her right into another burial chamber, which had more rats laying in wait. Another small but wholesale slaughter of more rodentia, the group found the entry point that the skaven most likely used. It was a small tight shaft descending twenty or so feet. It was also too small for many like the dragonborn, to being entertaining any form of belief of direct entry to this hole. After a short bit more beguiling from the, shall we say it: “silver-tongued demon”. Reece is talked into requesting shovels to dig down outside the graveyard to reach the warren below. A task taken on with much dedication by the properly build dragonborn, as well the improperly equipped teifling. While the townsfolk and group of misfits toiled at the task of digging down to the rat's layer, two people from the gentry of the town did show up. The first arrived on a black horse, with men at arms trailing behind. The noble of pine ridge did grace the party with his presence. With a dark snarl Samuel Stadard, the noble of pine ridge sat atop his horse and looked down while the party worked. Weighted by the robes of his office his concern seemed mainly on his family’s crypt and less on the people. Once confirmed, wrongly, that the tomb of his ancestors was unmolested, he quickly lost interest and set off with his footmen walking behind him back to town. The second individual to grace the party was the local priest from the temple of Shallya in town. A bear of a man with light blond hair braided into a ponytail named Baxter. He was more vocal and ranted about goblin's being a green skin menace, that “they are to blame for this atrocity”. Despite members of the group and town pointing to a pile of burning rats. Like the cold wind, Baxtor blustered for a bit, ranting of Deep Bank and goblins. Then growing tired of his soapbox, turned and walked back to the town as well. Leaving the group of workers to toil on. Many long hours they toiled with help from some farmers and townsfolk. Till light left them, and the common farmers were ready to call it a night. However not to their excitement, the devotee of Shallya, prayed and was able to light the work sight giving them just enough time to break the last bit of ground and reach the warren below. It was here a weary dragonborn and tiefling called it a night. The plan was sleep, then regroup in the morning with the light and warmth of the day. For they were going down the rat hole, to face the unknown…