Into the Nentir Vale, Part 8

Logo courtesy Wizards of the Coast

The Nentir Vale is a campaign setting provided to new players of Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition. It’s present in the Red Box and most of the starting materials. For a party almost all completely new to D&D and a DM re-familiarizing himself with the latest edition, it’s a great place to start a campaign. This will be an ongoing recollection of what happens to the party as they make their way through the Nentir Vale. Enjoy.
Previously: The Resistance Grows

In the wake of the brawl, the four adventurers are directed to the livery in the northern part of Albridge. There they finally meet Dar Gramath, the de facto leader of the resistance against the Iron Circle. Faced with needing to organize his people into an armed resistance, Dar Gramath suggested to the heroes that interdicting some of the supply runs taking place across the Harkenwold would disrupt Iron Circle operations and distract them from what were, essentially, troop movements. The party was in favor of this plan, especially Lyria.

“I come from a long line of…”
“Thieves?”
“Canadians?”
“… grizzlies!”
– Danielle, Mike & Ben on Lyria’s lineage

The supply routes used by the Iron Circle are known to Dar Gramath, but nobody has undertaken operations against the mercenaries due to fear of reprisal against their families. The foursome of outsiders, on the other hand, have no such concerns and plan an ambush. The chosen area has some standing stones by the side of the road, making for excellent cover. As Lyria and Andrasian adeptly get into position on top of the stones, Krillorien gives Melanie a boost, only to have her slip and fall on top of him.

“I like this plan.”
“Try again.”
“wait, no, give me a second down here…”
– Mike and Ben after Ben fails his roll and gets a face full of Melanie’s good melons

After surviving his vision of marshmallow hell, Krillorien gets Melanie in position and gets into a hiding place himself.

Ben was a little confused on skill rolls, Danielle tried to explain:
“Say you have to roll dungeoneering for something.”
“‘You have to roll dungeoneering for something.'”
“Say you have to do that.”
“‘You have to do that.'”

The caravan came into sight after a short wait. It was a single horse-drawn cart flanked by Iron Circle soldiers and lead by a hound-like construct. It did not catch the scent of the party, and they set upon the caravan before the dark adept sitting beside the cart’s driver knew what was happening. The horse was freed from its restraints and bolted down the path a bit as the fighting ensued. Melanie needed a moment to gather her wits for spellcasting after taking a bad step off of the ledge she’d been hiding on.

“You must have popped a lung when you landed on your boobs.” – Ben

It wasn’t long before Melanie’s spells took their toll upon the Iron Circle.

“My bosoms emit a phantasmal energy!” – Eric

With the guardians of the cargo dead, the party claimed it for themselves. They also took ownership of the horse, debating whether to cede it to Dar Gramath or keep it as well.
“You can ride it back,” Krillorien told Melanie, “as long as you don’t ride side-saddle.”
“No problem!” Melanie favored the men with a smile as Lyria rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think you’re talking about the same thing anymore.”
They returned to Albridge to discover that, thanks to their distraction, Dar Gramath had contacted Tor’s Hold to begin organizing those willing to fight the Iron Circle. However, to ensure that all of the Harkenwold would rise up against the oppressors, they would need the allgiance of the Woodsinger elves living deep in the forest. Andrasian did not like this turn of events; it’s possible he and his family do not get along for some reason.
The Woodsingers are a cagey, xenophobic tribe, and were unwilling to join up with the others within the Harkenwold facing Iron Circle rule without proof that their sacrifice was warranted. To prove their good faith, the adventurers were charged with destroying an ancient evil within the forest. A travelling cleric from elsewhere in the Nentir Vale, who matched the description of Malareth, had been seen in the wood near ancient standing stones serving as the entry to a forgotten elven city. The only way in involved a vial of green dragon’s blood and the name of the city.
With this information, the party made their way to the standing stones. Goblin minions bearing the mark of Irontooth slept nearby in a broken-down cart as large spiders roamed the canopies of the trees. Sneaking through the underbrush, Andrasian poured the blood onto the plinth and spoke the name of the city, and the party found themselves whisked away by ancient, arcane means…

Next: Dal Nystiere

All locations, NPCs, spells and equipment copyright Wizards of the Coast unless otherwise noted.

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