Backstory

Welcome Essith!

As a fighter of the Desert Dwarves in the House of Tesca, you will do well in these times meant for heroes. Your people once explored the Underdark so far in search of Mithril that you burrowed behind the Trackless Sea far from the now legendary Mountain stronghold of Guantlygrm in Faerun where your people originated. The Underdark brought you to the hot and dry desert named after Tesca, the god of fire. Here in Maztica, your people prospered in the easily defendable desert where you found green oasis and mountains of hard stone but little metal. You found Plutoq to be an agreeable god to sacrifice to as he only wished your appreciation of the the gifts of magic he gave. He taught you the circle of Maztica magic known as Tumqua. From the rock, your artisans made pluma stone which was harder than steel and fashioned weapons such as the great battle ax you wield.



The House of Tesca has been bleak and empty for as long as your people can remember. Before that, the sunstone was already in the northern part, where the Mother Maztica was slain by her son Zaltec. Also the Pyramid of the Gods still stands in the haunted and ancient ruins of Tewahca, city of gods, where the gods Zaltec and Qotal once fought.

You know of trade with the Long Canoe traders from Eastern Far Payit, from the city of Maxal. These native people were fair and honest and bring fruit and seafood, pluma craft and teoalt magic, but most prized of all was the cacao. Of late they have been coming in fantastic ships of yahca bent wood and sails that fill with wind. They learned these new crafts from travelers from afar that have offered new ideas and new riches. The gods of these Newcomers are generous indeed, gifting them metal and powerful magics.

Your profession takes you west instead. As a fighter with the city council, you have been making your way as a guard on the caravans that go west to Baya, the port city on the west coast. These natives are more dishonest as they descend from the Green Folk of the jungles south of you. They are wiley and capricious and do not deal honestly with the dwarves. Your job is risky as the desert does not give up their dead to Coatlicue in the underworld easily and hordes of zombies make travel dangerous. And then the traders must deal with the natives of Baya to get a good deal. Still, you earn your money, though you dream of greater glory and treasure.

A folk hero eh? Tell me about it. We have time, says the girl sitting next to you. The caravan doesn’t leave For the west coast until tomorrow.

Well, I don't like to brag, but if you really want to hear it. When I was much younger, not many years coming of age my village was attacked by a huge group of orc. Most of the men worked in the local mine. My two friends and myself, being the youngest were usually assigned with running the ore to the village for processing and we'd do any other odd jobs that needed doing. One evening we had just left the mine with a load of ore. Just a few feet out of the entrance there was a cave-in. We could speak with those inside; only a few minor injuries so we got to work removing the rubble. We had barely began when .we heard the village alarm for orc approaching.
We were told to go help the village as those inside worked to get free. My friends and I ran as fast as we could, reaching the village just as the orc were approaching. The village was set where the only way in was a very narrow pass through the mountain, which was fortunate; only a few orc could pass through at a time. Apparently, most of our lookouts had been killed before the alarm had been sounded.
Normally security would have been better, but we had not had problems with the orc for many years and we had grown lax in our watchfulness. There were only five of us to hold off the orc. Now, don't get me wrong, our women are sturdy fighters when it comes to it, but we had many children so they were split with protecting the little ones and helping free the other men from the mine. The bottleneck only allowed three to four orc at a time to come through so, at first we felled them easily enough, but after awhile we began to tire. One of my comrades was slain so it became harder and we all were sustaining injuries, which made it harder to concentrate. As the night wore on another comrade was felled, just three of us left. Fortunately orc are too stupid to know when things were going in their favor so they didn't know to press their attack. They didn't realize we were exhausted.
We fought as best we could for as long as we could, but in the end we wore down. We could barely lift our weapons and when we did make a hit the damage was minimal. It was all but over, we had sustained too many wounds and were completely wore down. Once we were gone the orc would flood through the pass and slaughter our women and children. I took a sword jab to my shoulder and fell to my knees, completely spent. I turned to see my best friend ran through the stomach. It was all but over.
An orc raised his sword to cleave in my last friends head when he was suddenly knocked back by an ax protruding from his face. The other men were finally freed from the mine and had joined the fight. I passed out as I felt myself being dragged from the battle. I awoke several days later to find the village still intact. My body ached from head to toe and I could barely move, but move I could. I was the only survivor of the five defenders as the fourth succumbed to his injuries the day before.
I was hailed a hero, though I didn't feel like one. The village elder explained to me the orc that attack were just a small group of a much bigger force that had been building for quite some time, organized by whom, none knew. We weren't the first hit and those hit before us had suffered greatly, but word was spread and the orc were beaten and scattered back to their lands. So, apparently, my friends and I had not only saved our village, but the lives of countless others. So, hero I was labeled and haven't been able to shake it to this day. Don't get me wrong, it comes with plenty of perks when I'm in any dwarven lands, but sometimes it gets a little embarrassing. What's a man to do, eh?

"That's exactly what a man should do!" she says back to you, as she grips you hard on the wrist and gives you a mighty slap on the shoulder. "You are a hero, and you should be proud. Communities need heroes like you."

She goes back to her canteen and pours a little out into two jade carved bowls. "To folk heroes!" and you both quaff down the spirited shots. Straight octli, she was drinking, distilled nectar of agave.

You could not help but notice the many scars that have almost healed along her ruddy brown arms. She wasn't sand blasted and discolored like the dessert dwarves, but rather had the deep color of milky cacao. Her meticulously clean bare arms disappeared into a padded cotton jerkin, which, though stained and faded, and more than a little ripped and patched, still bore some arcane glyphs as if they were stitched into the fabric.



In her black hair, she wore feathers clinging to beaded braids of intricate designs and colors.

"So, it appears you've seen a bit of battle yourself." I said glancing at her arms. "Tell me a bit about where you're from, you don't appear to be from any of the desert clans."

"You think?!? So you can tell by my brawny muscles?" she taunts as she stretches her arms over her head and brings them down in a power pose that would be intimidating to the most seasoned of gladiators.

She laughs a full belly laugh that attracts the looks of all those relaxing and enjoying the respite under the sweet meljinga tree’s shade.

"I’m from northern Nexal, the Capitol, though I don’t worship the Eater of Hearts, Zaltec as most do there. I am a Paladin in your speech, an Eagle Knight of the Great Quetzalcoatl, the god Qotal."

"Wait. Qotal left Maztica in shame over the eastern sea."

She takes a crusty flat bread of maze and sops up the spicy juices of her steak and vegetables and shovels it into her mouth, "um ‘es," she barely speaks, full of food. The juices slip down her chin. She lifts her head to run her forefinger up her brown neck to shove the juices back into her mouth. She swallows the meal whole in the manner of the great predator she is. "By Yahca’s beard! These peppers are rich! I love what the desert sun and sand can do to a pepper!"

She looks at you.

"Qotal left but he returns! With white warriors in silver and great canoes. The priests of Zaltec have been fools and listened to the Ancient Ones in the high caves above Nexal. By dark arts, they became the Viperhand and commanded the Underdark to empty.
Hordes of orcs and Jagres poured forth over Nexal. Qotal brought the war to them but could not vanquish them. The Feather Serpant rescued the people. Qotal showed mercy He made a series of oasis down through the House of Tesca to Tukan, just east of here. The desert blooms and the refugees of Nexal make The exodus to find a new home."

"I came ahead to prepare the city but the dwarven lords would not receive me, so I go to Baya at the end of the caravan trail to negotiate for supplies and building supplies, for Yahca artisans and stone Tamqua melders, for a better reception for the multitudes of now homeless Nexalans who no longer invade to capture hearts to sacrifice to Zaltec They will come to settle Tukan."

She lifts herself from her squat. "Come Essith. It is nightfall. You are a sell sword paid to protect the caravan, are you not? We need to inspect the lifts before dark."

"Tell me. Could a folk hero know what it is like to do grand deeds as this?"

I chuckle and shake my head as I rise to join her.
"Your a spirited one, that's for sure. I like that. Just so you know, this folk hero knows what it's like to do just about any grand deeds an Eagle Knight knows to do. I don't shy away from my duties and I absolutely don't do anything half-ass...anything. Oh, apparently my name is Essith, but I don't recall catching yours.
As we head off to inspect the lifts, I give her an appraising look. "I like your feathers. They really help pull off your badassness." I give her a wink. "Maybe later I can show you what a folk hero can do with those feathers."

"No doubt that you are strong! and steadfast. Good qualities for a fine man, but your hands are rough. You do not have the finesse to weave pluma. To become an Eagle Knight, I had to learn and be tested in all manner of philosophy, the art and magic, in addition to arms. These feather fetishes I wear in my hair are my greatest accomplishment." She laughs. "They are talismans of poor skill but they effectively ward me from many harms."

"You cannot touch my feathers, Essith. I am betrothed to Qotal."

"My name is Huatzicahualtumila." She watches as your eyes grow wide at the length of the name. "Yeah, my friends just call me Huatzi."

She stops walking once she gets to the caravan. A line of white billowing forms sit on the road leading west like clouds on the sunset.

Hands on her hips, she sighs, "Now this is plumaweaving!"

What you mistook for cotton sheets on wooden sleds, is actually nothing more than fine cloth floating in air. Nothing touches the ground. The beds of the lifts are woven feathers that look like a child has strung them together while playing in the desert flower blooms of New Warmth after a Long Sleep in the cold caves. However, the lifts are laden with trade goods, heavy metals from far Nexal and ores and exotic woods. The lifts are carrying a fortune in worth and weight.

"This is all we could muster to send forward in trade for supplies and skilled labor. The dwarves may not like us coming in to settle their area of the House of Tesca, but the Kolanians will not care and they will like our goods. The only trouble is making our way through the mountain passes to the ocean inlet and the port city of Baya."

"Aye," you say. "The desert in these parts is full of its dead who will not abide by the life forces that sustain these lifts. They will try to tear it apart."

"Hush!" Huatzi says and crouches down. "There. On the other side of the lifts. I saw dark shadows where there is no light to cast them."

Without speaking, I draw my battleaxe and slowly approach the lifts scanning the area to discern what our who is lurking in the darkness.

You slip past the first and second lift to gain cover from two sides and drop to the ground to see below the sleds. The precautions and a good stealth check against their passive perception ensures you one good look. It doesn’t help much. You see a guard sprawled on the ground as if he collapsed rather than was subdued. A normal investigation would have suggestEd exhaustion or too much sun. Your perception is not that great. You see only the shadows of evening mixing with the early starlight.

Huatzi is more intent. She has moved between the second and third lifts and has stood up, a half circlet of steel blade in one hand on her forehead that made a halo over her furled face. The other hand must have held a dagger the way she held her body. That much you could deduce from your fighter’s training. Were these weapons on her body the whole time?

She focuses on a shape and you look to it. It is mere shadow. She rushes at it with a yell. That shadow and another that rises from the dead guard move toward her.

I quickly move to intercept the shadow moving from the fallen guard toward Huatzi. I yell a battle cry to try to divert the attention of the shadows and move to attack the one moving from the fallen guard.

You rolled 14 on initiative while the shadows moves like thick black sugar, but Huatzi was faster. She slices at the shadow in front of her with both a circular downward arc from the odd hand blade and then stabs with a second dagger from below with equal power. Her two weapon style is impressive like a dancer and obviously well practiced. She scores two hits, but the shadow still comes upon her.

One fighter on each shadow, you split your focus. Your battle cry pierces the night but has little of the effect that a bard's mockery would have had on these shadows, and almost no intimidation on shadows. Yet the breath control helps you put your battleaxe in full swing. A 15 to hit and the shadow's dark milky form is cut deep with 9 damage.

Each shadow rolls 21 on their attacks. Huatzi reacts with a force of white energy that shields the attack. You, however, succumb to the cloud of ink, feeling the necrotic energy injure your mind for 9 points. Worse, you feel your strength sapped by the shadow upon you for 3 points of STR. You are down to 14 STR but maintain a +2 modifier.

Huatzi continues the onslaught, finishing off her shadow with two more mighty blows!

You are thrown off by the strength drain rolling a 2+2 and miss. As a bonus action, you take a second wind for 5 points putting you up to 9 hit points.

The shadow does not relent. It attacks with a 13 to your AC of 13 and does 8 necrotic damage and sapping your strength further by another 3. Your STR is down to 11, nullifying your STR modifier.

Huatzi sees you are bloodied but makes the tactical decision to attack your shadow rather than waste an action healing you. "Hold on!" she yells and swings, missing both attacks.

You are focused. There is nothing left to do but end this. You attack with a bare 12 to its AC of 12 and hit for 9 damage cleaving the shadow in two. The necrotic ooze seeps into the ground. Your battleaxe feels more heavy than it has ever felt in your hand. Luckily your studded armor only weighs 13 lbs and didn't cause disadvantage on that last attack, or you probably would have missed. Still, it's heavy, too. Everything feels heavy.

Huatzi takes her arms and hugs you so you do not fall down. Where did her knives go? She walks you over to the last lift that was almost empty so that you can sit. "My hero." she says.

"Hero my arse," that... thing would have killed me if not for you, thank you. I'm okay for now, let's see if the other guards are still alive and if anyone else was hurt.

You take her hint, and get up to go to the stable where you put up your horse and donkey. They will need more feed and ... Huatzi bites your ear and pulls you back into the lift's feather bed. She grappled you by her superior strength and wet kisses. "Now where do you think you are going, my hero!"

The morning comes soon enough. She must have opened the lift's covers when she slipped out in the night. You barely noticed her going and barely had time to recuperate, but you now have your strength back, partially from the delightful therapy. You had better tend to those beasts of burden before the caravan leaves. You leave for the mountain passes soon.

I quickly get myself dressed and tend to the beasts and any other tasks I need to before we depart. I try to enjoy the memory of Huatzi's ministrations from last night, but I keep thinking of the attack by those shadows. Oh well, nothing for it now but to move on and be more vigilant at night
I also need to brief Huatzi on the dishonesty of the people in Baya. They will try to cheat the caravan any way they can.

How do you pack? Do you take the animals or leave them in the livery? You do have an impressive amount of inventory.

Are you able to post as your character?

I thought I was.

You see someone in front with a battle helmet and full cloak and regalia all in white. They must the tiltoch, the big boss, probably some green folk merchant guard with a stick up their Plutoq. You sneaker and look around to see if lightning strikes you down.

You take another look to see the eagle helm and the coat all of white feathers. It is Huatzi bossing everyone around getting this caravan going.

"Hey you! Pack rat!" She yells at you with a wink. "Get hitched up and take charge of the rear."

A shadow falls over the distance between you, and you draw your axe. It’s not a Shadow but rather a giant eagle. It barely touches down before Huatzi pole vault on, her white feathers trailing behind her lithe movements, and an ipe wood halbert with pluma stone and steel flashing in a circular motion over her head. She flies away.

Caravan life kicks into gear quickly. Maintaining that smile is difficult, however. You patrol the areas behind the train, but mostly rest in the last lift since your real work is at night. The dead come up from the desert and linger on the pass and take all your vigilance. You can handle a couple of stray zombies, and any scuffles with more are helped by mid guards and Imsh. His ministrations are not nearly as tender as Huatzi’s. He has had more time to cook and provide hot food for breaksfast now that he has more time. He tends to fall back and eat with you rather than the Plutoq sticks up front. Sharing your meals with Imsh has given you the uneasy opportunity to observe his lower tusks with their rune embossed gold rings. "You are staring," he tells you. "You know I’m half dwarf, though that is not how you call me." You laugh it off, but know that it is hard not to be racist in the face of obvious racial differences. How well you know that as a dwarf. Still, despite this and although you have a great deal of time to make a friend of Imsh, your thoughts always return to Huatzi. "Hey Weed, seen any eagles?" you would ask. "No," he would say. "And good thing. Cause if the tiltoch were to come back, that would mean trouble up ahead. As it is, she’s probably flying ahead to try to sell this hoard. I’ve never seen so many guards on a train."

I stop our lift and jump down asking Imsh to help me transfer the mule's load to the lift until we can clear the pass. When done we climb back on and catch up with the others.
"I see your point about the Tukan dwarves. The situation will have to be handled delicately or there could be bloodshed when the refugees begin arriving. If the Nexalians coming have truly given up their old ways of taking hearts to sacrifice, then we must help the tiltoch convince the Tukans to allow the refugees to settle."

sorry forgot to post as character.

Roll me three dexterity saving throws [d20+modifier and also proficiency modifier if you are proficient in Dexterity saving throws]
Use actual dice, or a program, or the tools in this platform. I don’t care. Just be honest and let fate take the story.

My link to your dndbeyond page is not working, otherwise I would tell you what your mods are. Care to give me the link again? On you old sheet, you have a +1 mod to DEX saves.

I’ve closed the game to applications. We have five players on board. Finishing up back stories...

Yo, those are some good rolls. Fate will smile upon you, sort of...

My apologies. I never asked how much you knew of 5e or forum work. Yeah, for a straight ability score check like DEX, there is no proficiency, you are right. Only the skills and two saves can you be proficient in. (except for bard rules which are weird). This is a save that you are not proficient in.

I am going to apologize again here, because I have realized that the dndbeyond links do not give me everything I need to run this game, and it makes everything more complicated. They are still great tools for you the player as it does alot of mechanics for you, and the rolls!

May I ask you to complete the gamersplane character sheet here so I can access and edit and ask you questions? I will do it this weekend to the best of my knowledge if I have time. I seem to be running 5 campaigns at the moment, until I can get everyone ready to meet. I'll post your roll results soon.

You jump off the lift with the intent to move the mule's gear off the poor beast. You realize that you were being more considerate to a beast of burden than oft. Or was it the supplies that you were more worried about? You had not thought enough about those since getting into the swing of things and your mind preoccupied with missing Huatzi and dealing with Imsh. Maybe you were just tired from the long nights watching for undead. You don't know the reason, but it isn't like you. Not long after you felt your feet crunch the gravel and rock from your jump, than you feel a great crash of an enormous boulder hitting the rear of the lift. Imsh is thrown from the craft unconscious and rock shrapnel showers away from the impact. The spray of rock has missed you and you dodge away, making your first DEX save of the encounter. You only take 2 points of damage. A crazed ogre approaches the rear of the caravan.



He attacks rolling high on initiative. His club will kill you and Imish and everyone else. No one is to help you. They are now fending off two flanks of undead. Still no sign of an eagle. This is your fight.

He swings his club and misses your armor class, the blow coming down on earth and shaking the very mountain pass. And he swings again with the giant club larger than yourself and deals 8 points of bludgeoning damage.

You jump to defend your friend and make a grapple attack to get to that club. The ogre stands twice your height, clad in armor and jaguar skins, his jowls doubled by the jaguar helmet that his head sticks through, stuck on as if he once were a jaguar knight but has been horribly transformed. You fail to make the grapple but your efforts have shoved him into the mule who bolts and bucks. At that instant you recall why you have been fixated on that mule’s pack. You have had three sticks of Dino-mite fireball sticks in there and you have not kept them wet and stable as the magic vendor had instructed. The mule bucks once more and the second DEX save on your handling of the fire sticks is not enough. The mule explodes with the power of all three sticks generating the heat of three fireballs. The mule is disintegrated, scraps of leather and melted tools flying. The jagre must make three saving throws but is not dexterous to start with. He burns with arcane energy, falls and dies. You do make your saving throw, but take half the force in fire damage anyway. You go unconscious. Cold and burned.

What do you see now? Blackness? No, glowing white feathers, maybe? There is no color. It’s a cold place but the stones beneath your feet glow with the fire that gives no heat. There is a giant man squat on the barren landscape.

He gestures for you to sit. The wind is still, the sky slate gray. He says to you in a booming voice, "I heard that one about the Plutoq stick."

You’re dying.. in the kingdom of.Uhti the Fair.. your god Plutoq.

Just checking this out
Cool

You investigate

You can't see much for the tree branches. It appears to be a campfire but from here that's all you know.

click on this to please update inventory

Having not cleared the trees, you hear and see nothing. There is no response from your shout.

There are three goblins asleep beside the dying fire. A large nest the size of an jagre sits on top of two bent down boughs pf a tree.

He has a femur bone in his hand.

He understand you want to attack and as soon as you start to approach, he casts a spell of necrotic energy that lashes out at the sleeping goblin. You rush forward to attack the closer one to you and slice his head off. Imsh's goblin wakes with a scream. The other goblin gets up and grabs his spear.

Your dagger flies through the air.

Your dagger flies past his head into the trees.

With you upon him in melee, he swings And missed. the other rushes dashed away and hides as a bonus action.

Imsh casts another spell at the one he had hit before, this time with extra damage because of his injury and he falls.

You sink your ax into his head and look around. There is no third goblin.

The goblin eyes stare at you with death's eyes, empty, but its jaw opens and a hollow voice comes out. It says three words, Nexal, Tukan, Coatl.

"High Priest of Zaltec
A gift for the Refugees of Nexal
Huatzicahualtumila"

Okay, I've never played 5e rules, but if I read correctly, I can use 1d10 or 6 +3 con modifier. I choose to go with 6 + 3 instead of rolling. If I boobooed, let me know.

I’m going to say both. It’s one of my house rules. Roll and if you are below average, then take the average.

Okay, sounds cool, o Timeless One.

Oh well, worth a try. I've already edited my character sheet.

With a great deal of labor and effort you fashion a liter and get Gobby to help though she tripped more things than she helped. Finally you tell her stop helping. Free of direction, she goes and brings a feather circle that she places under the egg in your rough litter. It floats to about two feet off ground and she gently pushes it over your stomped weeds toward the caravan.

With a great deal of labor and effort you fashion a liter and get Gobby to help though she tripped more things than she helped. Finally you tell her stop helping. Free of direction, she goes and brings a feather circle that she places under the egg in your rough litter. It floats to about two feet off ground and she gently pushes it over your stomped weeds toward the caravan.

You load Gobby and her egg onto the last lift that is now repaired. The caravan starts up again and you head down the opposite side of the mountain. You see the familiar sea on the horizon and the valley below where Baya sits in a protected cove. After only one more night traveling and protecting the rear, your caravan trip heads toward the city on the sea. It is graceful and light. Many towering watchsticks dot the skyline of the wooden planked city. Strings of ladders fall from the poles that hold tiny balconies for the Eagle Knights of the city to pass their watch, listening to the bells chime out the time. Flags flutter above the houses, and taut cloth sunscreens protects the crated people in the crowded city. The city sits on the ocean sea like a ship of the masses. Maritime merchants rule this place, meting out justice by the coin. To your desert eyes, the city looks as if it intends to sail away with all your treasures, having not even paid the price. Be wary, you tell yourself. Do not trust these pirates. Yet here you come, guarding a treasure beyond price, for the refuges headed for Tukan, and an egg of portent with Huatzi's name bond to it.

You say goodbye to Imsh who is returning immediately on the next returning caravan. He hates city folk. You collect your wages. The plumaweavers are indeed generous to the great dwarven sorcerer. They pay you 400 gp. You mount your horse and Gobby follows you and leads the floating egg into the city with you.

You meet people in bright colored clothing going through the narrow streets, carrying baskets and rolls of fabric and fresh cornbread. A copper piece buys you a loaf, but when you hand them a gold piece, they just smile, wave away your coin and give you a loaf instead. Always they would ask if you needed a place to stay. You are obviously new in town and in desperate need of a bath. After having a few of these encounters, you have several addresses in town. The signage are colorful glyphs on sea shells, each glyph being a phonetic part of the name, and clusters of glyphs would spell out a longer word or phrase. The first glyph in a house's name would be the district, so navigation wasn't as hard as you feared. The road from the docks and the road from the caravan trails to the east, joined in a grand plaza with a opulent water fountain. Temples of all the gods surrounded the square and in the middle vendors would lay out their wares on woven blankets and perhaps pitch tents. Servant girls go to the fountain and collect water for the great houses nearby. Artisans have their shops on side alleys off the two main road. There were no guard posts or garrisons or troops or administrative buildings that deal out judgement. All that happens, as well as education and worship, at the temples. There are the occasional Jaguar Knight or Eagle knight patrolling. You witness an urchin being killed for stealing a trinket. Music and philosophy are practiced in the streets and the palapas, corner gathering spots of cushions on the paved streets under orange trees and mango and tamarind trees. After organizing your information, you have the decision to make of houses to knock and ask for entrance, priced at 20gp, 10gp and 5gp. You think that you do not want to risk getting a bad place, but the 20gp is high. You have with you more money than you have ever had in your life. Perhaps you deserve the best? You will need to send word to the caravan where you are to stay and then you can settle in and do some shopping. But first, that bath!

You make your way to a quiet neighborhood of houses, knock on the door and are answered by a grandmotherly woman who greets you and offers one night board, food, private bath and service for 10gp. She ushers you and Gobby and the egg into a small but comfortable room overlooking a garden. You hand her the money. She had called for the tub room to be prepared, and wastes no time leading you to the bathroom, testing the water in the tub with her elbow and motioning you to enjoy. She closes the door, and you do. lathering up and soaking it in. The private room with the bathtub was well laid out with tub and fur rugs and padded tables and fireplace. So this is what city life is like, you tell yourself.

Thought I'd change my name, hope it's cool. This will be the only time.

After a lovely bath, you feel as good as new. You walk back down the hallway to your room and open the door. The bed has been torn apart and all the furnishings in the room, except for one straw tick the grandmother threw down for the goblin, has been piled around the egg set in the bed. Gobby is naked and asleep atop the egg.

The life of a rock star. Free women in the bathroom. Free goblins in the bedroom What do want to do in town?

Heading down to the armorer, you see plumastone workers and feather weavers and Tumqua casters making iron... The allies off the main square have just about everything in the PHB. You can trade gp for equipment.. Give me a list and I'll see if it is available.

Question, O Great and Powerful Lyricist. I have studded leather currently and I would like to purchase a chain shirt, which the manual says is usually worn between a padded shirt and leather. Will I be allowed to wear a chain shirt under my padded leather? I would like to, but it's not a big deal. I humbly and patiently await your most wise and reasonable decision.

You finish up whatever shopping you want to do and swing by the caravan schedule master’s office late in the night to inquire about Huatzi. She was there earlier back from making deals with those thieves, the merchant guild of Baya, but she has gone again to meet some pirates about buying their Ipe wood shipment that they have lucked into. Something about a vampire and an Oracle. Deceptions you are sure and she will find no good deals here, you think. Anyway, they say she will be at the fountain right before dawn to discuss terms. You had bette go and tell her what she is getting into with this crowd. The fountain before dawn, you repeat to yourself as you head back to your egg. You’ve got to tell Hiatzi about that egg before it hatched in your bed and you become the proud papa of a coatl. Gobby would be such a good mom.

Yes, that was exactly my next question. Seems strange to me, but thems the rules, I guess, okay.
Here is a small list of things I would like to purchase that I think Kon would carry and would fit into his saddlebags.
Common Clothes
Fishing Tackle
Healers Kit
Mirror (steel)

I will subtract the gold from my list and add the items, unless you say NAY NAY.

Gobby tells you that the egg is nice and warm and stirring. She’s excited. Lilanca has made you a bed by the window and you sleep comfortably for once, but before you are completely awake, one of the house boys shakes you. He fears you slashing out with some hidden weapon like most guests. That must explain the heavily padded armor and shield he is wearing for task. As soon as you wake, he runs.

I’ll approve those modest purchases. Is the name change not just for the bath scene? If it is a character change I’ll make more of it before proceeding with the story.

I think the AC rules make a little more sense that you give them credit. The chain mail is worn with padded gherkin and other things. The whole ensemble is calculated better then leather itself. In the end, it’s a mechanic that makes the math easy and the role playing more fun. If you want to get your head stuck in the minutiae then I recommend you play in 3.5e. You would love it.

Yes, the name change is for the overall game. I'll let you know as the game flows when I'll use aliases for specific uses.

It is still easy enough to find the central square in the dark before dawn, even if it by hearing the play of water where an aqueduct drops ice melt mountain water into various cascading basins.

As you reach the end of the street that empties into the square, you hear the sounds of hoops and howlers, as well as the clank of metal, and the sound of a very young girl crying in fear. Getting to the edge of the dim lit square, torches on the perimeter and the growing dawn approaching, your eyes confirm what you have heard. Five soldiers in plate mail and drawn long swords are pushing around a girl of perhaps 10 years old, who is carrying on her head a large pottery that she has filled at the fountain, the water spilling as she moves back and forth to avoid the men's swords set out to trip her in jest. You hear one of the men yell out in broken Maztica common, "Dance for us squaw!" You can see no one else is in the square and all the shop doors are closed. They are 80 feet from you and are at the center of the square.

At second level you get Action Surge at third level you select your martial archetype, which allows you to do two actions in a round, once a long rest.

Picking an archetype allows you to role play more things than just singing an ax. There are some fun ones in this link

Select from this list

I have been reading through the PHB about fighters and spells. I picked my two cantrips, but not my three spells. I'll get my character sheet updated ASAP.

I highly recommend "Shield" especially at your level. More useful than an attack.

It is a reaction so doesn't impose any action economy problems.

There is a conflict between your double handed ax attack and your dueling fighting style that requires one handed weapon. You might reconsider one or the other.

How’s your schedule looking again? Sunday or Monday forum night? It doesn’t look like we have a group for tonight besides some side play.

I'm good with either night, just let me know.