The 13 Masters of Evil

The Eighteenth Session

A Stone Tower and an Icy Fight

Afternoon of 5st Forever Sky through afternoon of 8th Forever Sky

After staring a while at the large stone edifice in front of them, the party decided to enter Farstone and see what manner of place it was. The put their horses in the nearby paddock, and opened the thick wooden door.

Inside, they found a large single room, with the base of the stone tower above running through the center. The room smelled of wood smoke, roasting venison, and the stench of unwashed bodies. Older, ragged looking human and dwarven men stood or sat in groups of two or three quietly conversing.

DM’s Post of this event:

As you open the grand doors to this huge building you see one large open chamber, approximately in the middle of this room you see a large square stone structure that obscures all vision beyond it. This obstruction towers right up into the ceiling and beyond and is without a doubt the base to the tower for which this place is named. The base of this tower is made from the same aged stone that you have seen from the outside and only a single wooden door with a thick silver chain shows any kind of entrance into this tower.

As you gaze around you see one large open chamber without walls anywhere, the room is well light by two large firepits along each wall, and an even larger cooking fire on the far side of the room which has a large deer-like carcass cooking over it. The room smells both tempting and uninviting at the same time as you senses pick up the warmth of freshly cooked meat but also the stench of sweaty bodies. In the center of the open space lay several large tables made of oak, placed together in such a manner to allow a large group to gather to eat. Along all of the walls you see the unmistakable remnants of peoples belongings scattered is such a way as to notify others that this space is taken. Hanging for hooks and large nails you see backpacks, ropes, and climbing utensils of all kinds, winter coats, and boots are hung in such a way as to allow the snow to melt off of them and puddle on the floor below.

The loud conversations that you heard upon opening this door were coming from the thirty or so patrons of this place, mostly scattered around the large room in pairs of two or three sitting together at the large tables or scattered around the outside walls rummaging through their belongings. As the cold air streams into the place they all turn to look at who would allow such a thing to happen and infact someone from the far side of the chamber yells out something about shutting the door before they shut it on your head, which gets a laugh from a few of the others.

As you close the door the conversations suddenly become more of a hushed murmur then the insides of a hundred other bars that you have entered. You study the folks and notice most to be a raggedy bunch of older men, most all of them haven’t shaved in a few weeks and many that haven’t bathed in that time either. Besides the normal humans and dwarves there are a pair of dragonborn sitting up against the left side wall and a female goliath who rises out of her bedroll after hearing some of the comments made by one of the older humans sitting at the table with his buddies. The comments wasn’t loud enough for you to hear it over the crackling fires but the others did and are starting to gather towards the tables in front of you carrying items in their hands.

After just a short minute about half of those present in this building are sitting around the wooden tables, eyeing you and watching your moves.

Suddenly, one of the older men speaks up.
“We don’t want your kind around here. Why don’t you take your leave from where you just came”, he says as he points to the door you just entered with his aging finger.
The man sitting behind him then speaks up as well, “It aint pretty around here for the likes of you, we ain’t taking that, so you can’t just be here.”
The older man that first spoke then gets up out of his seat and straights his dark brown winter overshirt with a big hole in the left shoulder, “Quib, I’ll be showing these strangers the door now, if they make any move to stop me then you blast them with your magic wand thingy that will turn them all to frogs”.
As the old man steps forward his momentum is suddenly halted by a hand on his shoulder from behind him. Stepping out from behind the older gentleman a tall, fair skinned, male Eladrin appears.
He speaks in a soft, hushed tone while facing the older gentleman, “Jaric, Quib, I really doubt these ladies…” he takes time to pause and then continues, “and gentlemen are here to out dig you for your yet to be discovered diamonds.
“Yeah, but they…” the old man starts to reply but is cut off by the Eladrin.
“No Jaric, we can’t help what happened before but this is a place for anyone and everyone, for free will and for peace. For those that would endure to make a better life for themselves,” he pauses as he looks at each of you. “No, Jaric, I seriously doubt that these people are here to do anything with diamonds. You secrete spot will stay secrete.”
“Now go back to your own business and I’ll talk with them, if they have a good reason to be here then they can stay, if not then I’ll throw them out myself. That goes for all of you. Get back to your own business.”
The old man grumbles something at you all as he reluctantly walks away while shaking his finger at you.
This Eladrin isn’t much like the other, almost out of place in these surroundings. He shows no sign of a beard and his dark blue clothing are well kept. Through his overshirt you see the faint signs of bulges from leather straps probably holding up some kind of armor. A silver earring plunges deep into his left ear and a small silver inlay is weaved along the lining of his shirt collar which rises high up his neck line. Around his neck is a silver interlace necklace that glistens in the firelight holding the unmistakable holy symbol of Tarasha, a lightning bolt going through a mountain. A strong leather belt with a few small pouches line his thin waistline, while a set of baggy blue pants cover up a set of leathery boots made for the skin of some kind of water animal.

He introduces himself as, Sarvo Calthem and waves his hand towards the now vacated tables before you.

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