A first-person experience of a D&D 5E campaign
With the prisoners out of their cells, alive and well, all things considered, I turned to ask my rather brusque companions on what our next course of action should be. As I did, I noticed that our height-imposed musician, had vanished completely. I even asked venerable Gloriosa, as the short one seemed to be quite content with running behind her well-armoured rump, whenever anything unsavory would poke it’s ugly head forth in our direction. Alas, even she had not seen him run away, and she had not seen (or heard) if any creature should have crept up and gobbled him down like a morsel.
As a jest, I suggested the idea that he might have hid in one of the coffins, as there was a distinct lack of barrels here. Maybe he had hid and attempted to prank us, and then closing the lid, only to realise his lacking strength, being caught inside the coffin. Still, no muffled cries of distress cam from the coffins. Somehow it made my mood drop into a sour area, while his antics were annoying and obnoxious, to the point where even I had been tempted to test his “barrel” against my magic, I suppose it was sort of a strange friendship. And while brave would be the last thing to call him, his heart was still in the right place; helping those less fortunate than himself.
Meanwhile I as pondering my honest feelings towards our short friend, the smelly Half-orc and the strange Elf had found an old armoury. Spears, swords and crossbows. And a lot of bolts. Most of the weaponry was crude, but solid looking, it wouldn’t break easily, even in the hands of someone untrained. I took the finest of the spears, weighing it in my hands. The balance was good, I remembered the annual boar hunts my father would host for the miners, some would be clappers, some would guard the flanks with these heavy spears, in the case of the boars charging in. The main group would be equipped with crossbows and longbows. At the time, I found a hunt like that barbaric and pointless, but as my father pointed out, the following feast, where he would sit next to the common mine-worker, listening to their grieves and troubles, served the business that the mine was well, by keeping the miners happy. I had the idea that if I could provide extra bolts for the hunt next year, I could partake in the hunt as well. This would surely make my father proud of me.
We left the manor with the woman and her daughter, it was hard to tell exactly how long the two had been held captive, but they both appeared in good health. For some reason, my gut told me that more Redbrands were en route to the manor, I loaded up my crossbow and said that I would guard the two women to safety, while the others would drag the well-beaten mage out. Their intention was to hand him to the town, for them to sign out a fitting justice, though I had concerns; no building looked fortified like a jail. And unlike Draig, who seemed just as unfaced by bathing as by death, I have standards regarding ethics and punishment, the call for an execution would go against my beliefs.
While looking out over Phandalin, I noticed that more people were out in the streets than when we headed to the manor, none of them with the notable red hoods. It was a pleasant change, as none of the people appeared fearful, almost as if they knew we had taken care of the Redbrands. The mage spoke word that concerned me, even if the Redbrands wasn’t the best lot of people, if they truly were the force protecting Phandalin, things could go downhill very fast for this community. Perhaps venerable Gloriosa had the same line of thought, or she just read my mind, but she suggested we used the weapons in the armoury of the manor, to arm up the citizens; creating a makeshift militia. Even if we didn’t have time to train them in the usage of the weapons, just the sight of visibly armed people could fend off smaller groups of thieves and brigands. As I had snatched up all the bolts, I felt a jolt of guilt hit me, but I couldn’t just leave this place defenseless. So while I waited with the woman and her daughter, the others went in to obtain the remaining weapons, and the knocked out mage. I can’t imagine Draig’s shoulder to be comfortable, to say nothing of the grime, dust, dirt and blood I have no doubt would be smeared in layers upon it.
We were informed that the knight, that we saved from the Goblins, was at the Townmaster’s Hall, and we figured it was the closest to a government or leadership this town had. The mage was still out cold, I suppose the rough-housing the others gave him earlier did have some effect. Sildar wasn’t exactly pleased to see the mage, and when I inquired into the mage’s claim of him being “an old acquaintance” of Sildar, he seemed reluctant for a moment, before he told us of the mage’s past as an errant trouble-maker. He did applaud us for keeping the mage alive (and for gagging him, which had been a suggestion of mine), he was handling a heavy bag, which turned out to be our reward for rescuing him earlier. I figured the plans to arm the citizens were better left with Gloriosa, who had been very charismatic and adamant in that request, which was part of why I agreed to part with most of the bolts. Meanwhile, I headed in to talk with Townmaster, and obese, but short man. I had hear others mentioning him as a banker, so I figured this would be a good chance to make a connection between my father’s mine and the general trade routes near Neverwinter.
Alas the Townmaster turned out to be the kind of person, who should NEVER be in charge of other people’s investments and money, and most certainly not be their head figure in terms of political achievements. He kept misspeaking about the town’s funds as “his own”, to a point where I suspected he was trying to line his own pockets, rather than making the town a better place. I calmly informed him that we had dealt with the Redbrands, and he asked if we had found the money they stole. I told him no, no stash of money or other riches were found, all that were there, was the coins from the gamblers’ table in the cellar of the manor, 20 silver pieces. I counted them up and pushed them across the table. He frowned, informing me that the Redbrands had stolen heaps more, though I had a feeling that he was trying to scheme me, or my party, of more wealth. So I bid him farewell, with a vague promise that we would take care of some Orcs south of Phandalin.
With all of that debacle settled, we headed to the estate of a certain Alderleaf. A farmstead, as it turned out, in a rather poor state, but with a decent amount of land for crops next to it. Seeing as our musician and joy-bundle was missing, I stepped forth, my tongue may not be silvered, but it would be better than Draig spouting angry spittle at a common farmer. Gloriosa might have turned it into a religious lecture, something I could do without at the moment. And mister Aspendew I wasn’t sure about, but as it didn’t occur natural for him to step up and introduce our cause, I am of the firm belief that I did the right thing, in telling the others to let me handle this. For once, no-one complained or argued, quite the refreshing change.
The door was barely opened for a woman to look out, but not letting us enter or look inside. I understood her situation; in her stead I would have done the same, seeing such a well-dressed, fine-scaled, horn-embroided Dragonborn at her door. She informed us that she didn’t know the location of the castle herself, but that a friend, who was a Druid out of Neverwinter, most certainly did. I thanked her, despite the minuscule amount of information. She told us to be wary of her sound, who could be quite the rowdy kid, and as if on cue, a young boy came swinging a crude wooden sword. Naturally, a boy with little hope for the future, would turn to swords and violence first, before thinking of knowledge, books and numbers, despite the fact that the town probably could do well with someone of intellect, rather than savagery and the ability to cut of heads. But the boy admired Draig. Not even the somewhat refined Aspendew, or the well-mannered Gloriosa, despite her slightly fanatic approach to certain things. I just shook my head, and turned away. At the corner of the next house over, I spun to look at Draig handing the little boy his two hand-axes, trying to teach him how to throw them. I murmurred a silent prayer to no god in particular, that Draig would never deliver children into this world, no shins or kneecaps would be safe.
Finally they finished up, I heard the boy calling Draig “sir”, a title fit for a knight or a guard commander… Draig was as far from any of those as any of us would be. I asked if we should procure a wagon to head to a locale called Thundertree, which was where we could expect to find the Druid, but neither Sildar nor the Townmaster, the greedy fop, had a wagon we could borrow. Sildar suggested we ask Barthen if we could use the ox-cart in which had arrived. An excellent idea; it had not been long enough for Barthen to sell cart or oxen on. It turned out Barthen had made some small repairs to the cart, a couple of cuts from a Goblin scimitar here and there, I presume, but I gladly paid the small fee he asked for, unlike the smithy on the other side of the street, Barthen seemed a reasonable man of commerce. I went behind the shop, to prepare the cart, whilst the others had some unfinished items they wished to trade with Barthen about.
Finally they all came around, Aspendew went to pet one of the oxen, I tried to warn him that they didn’t particular enjoy being petted on their rump, but it was too late, the otherwise calm creature launched a kick to his stomach. And it was is Aspendew had seen himself mad at the ox for this; he started questioning what we needed a cart for. I thought that he was playing a jest, surely he could not be suggesting that we were to WALK to Thundertree and back. But soon it dawned upon me, that he was being serious. I looked to the others, but found little support in my reasoning. After some pointless bickering back and forth, we decided to sleep the night, and head out first thing in the morning. We talked about going straight to the castle, if possible, though I have preferred to head to Thundertree first; another settlement with potential trade to be made. But I was outnumbered in that regard too. Oh why, dear father, must I surround myself with religious fanatics, murderous savages and an Elf so much in love with walking, that you’d think he’d be married to a pair of good hiking boots.
Heading north we discovered the castle Cragmaw; a mostly ruined set of walls and towers on top of a hill. As we had slept, I had dreamed of a visit from the same fleshy wall as from my past, I woke suddenly in the middle of the night and looked below my bed; a strange, humid book was placed there during my sleep. Flipping through the pages, I found incantations for some powerful spells, most interesting I must say. Aspendew called a glowing owl to his aid, for a second I hoped it would land a smelly bird-poop onto Draig, but no such luck was had. Instead the owl flew over the castle ramparts, and Aspendew looked blankly up into the sky while it did. When it returned, he informed us, poorly, that the castle was in fact occupied, with smaller and bigger types of Goblins. His owl had also spotted a ruined part of the northern wall, that seemed lightly manned. We kept our heads down, mostly, as a single patrol passed by. We agreed to silently take out the next patrol to pass, giving us a free moment to enter the castle unnoticed, hopefully.
Listening at a door, Aspendew informed us that multiple voices were in there, however we didn’t manage to enter without sound, and soon the clashing of swords and armour echoed through the corridors. Draig took point, I could see him swing at something through a door, as he moved forward I followed, only to be utterly clubbed down by the ugliest Bugbear I ever saw. The next few minutes are hazy to me, I remember getting up, and being cut down again by a dark-skinned Elf. As I came to, from Gloriosa’s friendly voice, the others had barricaded the tower room, with an unconscious Gundren amongst us. And a beast of some size roared from the outside of the castle.
Qa'Rajh Creations 