Episode 1

“A servant of Pelor is a servant of good people everywhere.” The initial sentence of the common book of Pelor was in Flo’s mind while she waited to see her superior Marla. Flo suspected this was going to be her first command of an outside mission, but she didn't have any idea what the nature of the mission would be. Marla’s door opened and two servants of Pelor exited in a hurry. A second later Marla herself swept past. “Oh Florence, sorry but something’s come up, and I’ve no time left for our meeting.”

Marla glanced up the corridor before continuing. “I want you to travel north to Winterhaven. I’ve arranged for a support team to go with you – meet them at the Crown and Spigot at daybreak tomorrow. The rest is all in here…” and she thrust a rolled parchment at Flo. Then she was gone down the corridor, Flo staring after her.

Five minutes later Flo was sitting on her favourite bench in the tiny water garden atrium of the temple offices. She unrolled the parchment Marla had given her. It was brief, written in Marla's own handwriting. In it Marla described her suspicions that the demonic cultist Kalarel may have set up a death cult in or around the northern town of Winterhaven.

Accompanying the note was a scroll of obvious magical power that Florence unrolled and studied briefly. The ritual inscribed therein surprised her, and made it clear that Marla considered the mission a dangerous one. Flo wondered just who would be waiting for her at the inn.

She was still wondering the next morning as she made her way though the narrow streets of the Trader’s Quarter, her spiked Morningstar clinking against her chainmail. The pre dawn chill was just starting to ease as she approached the north gate. The Crown and Spigot was a stone’s throw from the gate and usually popular with travellers, but seemed quiet this early in the morning.

Florence pushed open the door. Several groups of travellers were breaking their fast at the inn’s long tables, and the aroma of fresh baked bread and roast meat, mixed with the standard inn aroma of smoke and spilt beer, seemed oddly comforting.

Before Flo could decide which group were her “support team”, an earnest young man in chainmail jumped up from his seat and approached her, his hand extended.

“Florence?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Flo replied, taking the offered hand.

“I’m John. Marla hired me a couple of days ago.” John's curious look lasted a few seconds, then he turned and gestured to his breakfast companions.

“These guys too. Xagoth here is some sort of expert in demon magic.”

Xagoth was a tense looking human male in black armour. As a cleric Flo recognised immediately that he was not just a scholar of the dark arts, but a practitioner as well. She wondered what he had promised to his dark overlords to acquire his power.

“Aravin here is… well, he’s an Eladrin, y’know.” This last was delivered in a low voice, and when Flo glanced at John she thought she saw a slight look of distaste on his face. She wondered if John was a little human-centric.

Aravin was close enough that he may have heard John’s comment, but appeared unperturbed, looking calmly at her from his seat across the table. He was tall for an Eladrin, unarmoured, and although even the strongest Eladrin looked lean, Flo guessed Aravin was a student of the arcane forces.

“And finally, Flinch here will keep us on track through any wilderness areas,” and John gestured amiably at the remaining member of the group ― a young looking elven woman in dusty leather. Flinch nodded at Flo’s gaze. Dozens of arrows were packed into a quiver slung across Flinch’s back, alongside a massive longbow.

John stepped over to the seat he had earlier vacated, and collected the sheathed longsword he had left leaning against the edge of the table. While he buckled his sword belt Flo leaned across the table to shake hands with the rest of the group. Her companions appeared to be in their early twenties ― it was hard to tell with the fey races ― but even though they were probably all a decade her junior, she was confident they would prove worthy to the quest she was about to lead them into.

Minutes later the five were heading north on the ancient Kings Road, the city behind them and the ragged blue edge on the northern horizon marked the Cairngorm Mountains. Farmers traffic was light, but they passed several merchants hauling their trading goods in oxcarts, and were themselves passed by mounted messengers. The messengers rode with weapons and light armour, and armed guards accompanied the merchants.

Flo was happy overall with the hires Marla had arranged, but the sight of so much steel travelling the road had her wishing she had time to recruit another warrior.

John soon started a discussion about their marching arrangement for the dangerous territory ahead, which lead to a discussion of group fighting tactics and then to a good natured argument over the relative usefulness of magical versus conventional range attacks.

Flinch made her case for the “pointy things going fast” side when two unlucky hares broke from cover a stone’s throw from the roadside ― and died an instant later, an arrow through each of their necks. The elf had fired both arrows in a single draw of her longbow.

Aravin, the primary proponent of the magical side of the argument, was reluctant to concede the point. He didn’t offer a counter demonstration, instead claiming the arcane forces he controlled were too dangerous for idle use. As Flinch collected her hares, Aravin assured his companions that when the opportunity came the power of his magic would be apparent.

Others in the group opined that this statement was hubris ― although not quite in those terms ― and the ensuing lively conversation continued through much of the day.

By the time the sun touched the western horizon that evening, each member of the group had discovered that they shared with the others a similarly eager anticipation for the adventure they all believed lay ahead.

The group arrived at the tiny village that marked a day’s journey from the city, but by unspoken consensus they avoided the usual travellers’ accommodations at the large inn that dominated the hamlet, instead continuing on past the far side of the village and setting up camp off the road.

Flinch hunted waterfowl while the others prepared the site. After they ate Xagoth, who had proven quick with a joke despite the natural sobriety of his profession, surprised his companions again by producing a small lute from his pack on which he demonstrated a rare musical talent. Later Flo told a couple of fireside stories of her previous experiences cracking heads, both live and undead, for Pelor.

Around midday the following day they crossed the Trade Road, where most traffic turned west from the Kings Road to avoid the mountain pass ahead. Beyond the crossing the Kings Road became narrower and more overgrown. Flinch pointed out tracks on the road's surface made by wolf paws, and larger three clawed feet, and the adventurers fell into the marching order they had agreed on the day before.

An hour past the crossroads the road turned to pass between a pair of rocky outcroppings, wending its through boulders fallen from the nearby cliffs. As the heroes passed into the cool shadow of the western outcrop, Aravin became suspicious of an ambush, and summoned his arcane powers to create an illusory animalistic cry near the largest boulders. His suspicion proved correct when small creatures sprang into view. They shrieked and leapt forward to attack.

They were humanoid in form, but with lizard-like tails and heads. Their scaled skin was rust coloured under their primitive hide armour. The adventurers’ attention however was mostly focussed on the javelins and small swords the creatures were wielding.

Flinch lived up to her name, immediately loosing two simultaneous arrows. One glanced harmlessly off a creature’s armour, but the other found its mark, and an attacker died as a yard of willow slid through its eye socket.

A white beam lanced from Aravin’s hand, striking the ground between three of the creatures. Where the beam struck a burst of ice exploded, and all three creatures fell to the suddenly icy ground. One shrieked in pain; the others were silent. Meanwhile, John’s crossbow bolt found the heart of another reptilian.

Florence, impressed by the lightning reflexes of the group, blasted a beam of holy light at the nearest attacker, who narrowly dodged out of the way. Xagoth’s unconventional blast ― emanating as it did from his carven codpiece ― also missed his target.

A stone whirred through the air, missing the heroes but announcing the presence of a new threat ― another of the creatures had been concealed by a further boulder and now stood to wield his sling.

The charging creatures each flung javelins at the adventurers, but no one was hit, and it was clear that the attackers had underestimated their prey.

A bellowing from the east momentarily distracted all combatants. It was human, indignant, and approaching rapidly. Flinch took the opportunity to take careful aim at another attacker, dropping the lizard creature easily.

Aravin saw the single survivor of his ice explosion climbing to its feet, and with a gesture summoned a cloud of jabbing daggers of force that descended on the creature, who dropped flat again to avoid them. This unfortunately meant John’s sword swing, intended to take off the creature’s head, whistled through the dagger cloud without making contact.

By now the bellowing was closer, and into view ran a small reptilian carrying a bright steel longsword. As it ran it screeched desperately, and the weapon was so heavy the creature’s two-handed grip on the hilt could barely keep the tip off the ground. A second later a massive, naked human appeared, pursuing the small reptilian. The man stopped yelling and made a concerted effort to catch up with the creature that had obviously stolen the man’s sword.

The additional distraction worked in Flo’s favour, and this time her holy beam consumed her target in blazing radiance. Xagoth’s demonic blast also found a victim, and the obvious contrast between Flo's divine radiance and the unholy black force Xagoth launched from his hips meant little to the creatures they killed.

The naked man had now caught up with his quarry, and pounded his fist down onto the creature's head. His muscled frame stood at least six foot eight, and the force of his strike completely destroyed the hapless sword thief.

As the slinger fitted a curious clay sphere into its weapon and began to whirl it around its head, two additional opponents appeared from their hiding place. These new creatures were of the same stock as those whose bodies now littered the area, but were larger, and each carried a curiously shaped shield ― a dragon scale. Red light shimmered over the shields’ surfaces. The two new arrivals immediately split, one leaping to attack the original defenders while the other raced toward the tall naked guy, who snatched up his sword with a triumphant cry and turned to face this new assailant.

Meanwhile the slinger flung his missile, striking Flinch in the shoulder. The clay sphere disintegrated on impact and fire bloomed across Flinch’s shoulder and back. She frantically batted at the flames, but the sticky accelerant resisted her efforts.

• Aravin blasts a thunderwave and pushes John through the cloud of daggers
• Dexter arrives and flanks the dragonshield attacking Walf
• Flinch's fire goes out
• Slinger is killed
• Dragonshield is killed
• Artin arrives carrying three packs and shitty at Walf and Dexter for leaving her to collect up all the equipment
• John attacks Walf's dragonshield and kills him
• all take a breath and meet:
  • Walf is a fighter from a once-wealthy noble family.
  • Dexter is a “gentleman adventurer” by which he appears to mean “thief, but still a nice guy”.
  • Artin, a dwarf, is a paladin of Corellon. She appears to be friends with Walf and Dexter but has so far not chosen to reveal much more about herself.
  • The three friends are pursuing Walf’s mentor and friend Douven Staul who headed to Winterhaven some months back investigating a rumoured “dragon’s tomb” near the town
• the two groups decide they can trust each other
• they travel the rest of the way to Winterhaven together
• Flo and some others chat to the gate guards
• the group enter the pub and discover:
• some locals are aware of recent kobold attacks on the road and suggest the group talk to the local lord
• a local scholar knows of, and draws a map to, the nearby area said to be a dragon’s burial ground
• that evening all the locals questioned about cult activity answer with varying levels of disbelief (except one)
• Flinch questions an elf, Ninaren, that appears relieved to hear someone talking about the cult. Ninaren tells Flinch about a nearby base near a waterfall she has seen cultists going to. Then Ninaren shuts up and heads upstairs.
• the group needs to decide what to do the next day: visit the lord; go to the waterfall cult base; go to the dragon tomb