Khe'ril picks another blade out of the barrel and begins to sharpen. "An' askin' questions like ye do is a great way to start! Find someone what knows more about artifice than yerself and keep them questions comin'."
Candlekeep
Khe'ril picks another blade out of the barrel and begins to sharpen. "An' askin' questions like ye do is a great way to start! Find someone what knows more about artifice than yerself and keep them questions comin'."
He didn't like it.
Why would this beast enjoyed being degraded in such a way? So many mysteries surrounded the creature. He seemed friendly enough. Should Rift speak with him and ask about his Headband of Intellect? He takes another sip of his drink and gags. He's seen scarier things than an ogre. His mother is a dragon, for crying out loud!
Taking a deep breath, he walks up to the ogre's table, nasty drink in hand. "Hello, good sir. I am new here and I am curious why you are called Little One." He gestures to himself. "The name has been used on me, but we bear very little resemblance."
Little One pauses to breathe before beginning his story, and the sound of so much air being inhaled and exhaled by this large creature is almost like listening to a bear snore.
"You see, before I donned this magic item I was dumb. Dumb enough to think that because I was bigger and stronger than most that I was better than them. In my base state I objectified them, treated them like nothing, and... took what I wanted from them." His great hand swipes at the air to emphasize his point. "And one day the smallest person I had ever seen crossed my path. A halfling. I killed him without a second thought." Little One's shoulders slump in genuine sadness.
He sighs in remorse before continuing with his story. "On the little one's corpse I found this shiny circlet. As I picked it up, it changed size to fit my own head. I put it on, and then..." The ogre blinks and looks up at the ceiling. "With an improved ability to reason and ponder, I felt compelled to appreciate the error of my ways and seek out a better life. I adopted the name Little One, to honor the halfling whose life I cut short.
"After that I traveled for a while, but quickly learned that I was not welcome in polite society. Not that I blame them! And so I made my way here to Candlekeep in pursuit of knowledge, to become the best self that I can. Thankfully the Avowed have let me stay for as long as I like. This is my home now."
Little One nods contentedly as he finishes the story. "But what about you, friend? What is your name? What knowledge do you seek from this enlightened place?"
"'T̶̘̺͐h̵̞̕’̵̲̻͌͠a̷͓̿k̶̹̥̍͊k̵̟̏͑t̷͍̊͘ ̷̜͝Ȕ̴͕͎e̶̝̚s̵̥͋͝h̷̝̝̑̈t̶̛̗͠r̵̨̭͊'?" A twinge of a headache pokes at Mesen's conscious as the alien sounds come out of Wirrow's mouth, and his vision blurs slightly before snapping back to normal. Wirrow appears either not to notice, or entirely unaffected. "Well, a little blunt and rude, but I guess you probably can't call it inaccurate."
Wirrow sets all the books out in front of her in an arrangement that seems convenient, and begins looking through them one by one, page by page, starting first with the vampire book with the title that made her cringe the least.
Every so often she changes between them, if they get boring or unbearable in... other ways. For the most part though, her chosen alcove is silence interrupted only by page turns and occasional muttering.
No, I’ve barely done anything! I cant send this to them! I’ll need to actually have done somthing... important? of note? not yet though. I want to make them proud.
Kay puts the letter carefully in an inner pocket of her bag and heads back to the library to see if she could find any books on inner magic.
necromancy cantrip
Casting Time: 1 action
Range: 5 feet
Components: V
Duration: 1 round
As part of the action used to cast this spell, you must make an unarmed strike or melee weapon attack against one creature within the spell's range, otherwise the spell fails. On a hit, the target suffers Page 236 the attack's normal effects. In addition, a black web of necrotic energy radiates across its skin from where it was struck until the start of your next turn. If the target willingly takes a reaction before then, it immediately takes 1d8 necrotic damage, and the spell ends. This spell's damage increases when you reach higher levels.
At 5th level, the melee attack deals an extra 1d8 necrotic damage to the target, and the damage the target suffers for taking a reaction increases to 2d8. Both damage rolls increase by 1d8 at 11th level and 17th level.
Chill of the Grave
1st-level necromancy
Casting Time: 1 action
Range: 50 feet
Components: V, S, M (a knuckle bone)
Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
Choose one undead creature within 50 feet. For the duration, whenever the target hits with a melee attack, that attack inflicts an extra 1d8 cold damage.
Withering Smite
1st-level necromancy
Casting Time: 1 bonus action
Range: Self
Components: V
Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
Your weapon radiates terrible energy that empowers the next strike you make with it. The next time you hit with a melee weapon attack during this spell’s duration, your attack deals an extra 1d6 necrotic damage. If the target of that attack was a creature, it must make a successful Constitution saving throw or take 1d6 necrotic damage at the start of each of its turns for the spell’s duration, its flesh rotting around the wound. An affected creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on a success. The rotting effect also ends if the affected creature receives magical healing.
At Higher Levels. When you cast this spell using a spell slot of 2nd level or higher, the extra damage dealt by the weapon’s hit increases by 1d6 for each slot level above 1st. Subsequent necrotic damage doesn’t increase.
She gestures towards a seat in the common room.
What a horrible story! The creature seems even bigger now, the name Little One almost more of a mockery than a tribute. But of course Rift can't say that. He might get squashed.
Instead he clears his throat. "I am Tilrifturrin and I want adventure more than knowledge. I've already been to school and all that. I want to be where the action is!" He sits up tall and takes another sip of the vile grownup drink. His stomach tries to rebel, but he keeps his face stoic.
What type of check would this be to do? I picked strength, but didn't know if there was a better one. Also, wondering if as a member of the guild, having his own tools, and with solid background in it, if maybe he has some type of advantage or something along those lines. Lastly, if he reaches into a pocket on Ug's loincloth, is there a roll he needs to make to see what surprises might be in there? : )
Rolls
Blacksmith check (strength?) - (1d20+2)
(11) + 2 = 13
I feed the horse the apple while gently brushing the horse's nose with my hand.
"I owe this horse my life. I was about to succumb to my wounds when he, along with its rider, came back and saved me after the caravan we were a part of was overrun by gibberlings.
Speaking of the caravan, I must go and meet my companions to retrieve the abandoned wagon and its contents. Thank you again, and I will return and give this brave horse more healing."
"Hey hey hey, No body is going to hurt you. What have you lost? I can help you look for it, I was actually just looking for something to do."
Kay smiles gently up at the woman and nods reassuringly
He raises his own mug, which is actually a pitcher. "To adventure and friendship! May they ever bring me new stories to read."
Khe’ril folds his arms and lets loose a favorite Dwarven curse. "Bah! I telled ye it was bad iron. Once its true nature be shown, there be no fixin’ it." He sighs and leans against a wooden support beam. "But for sure, ye’ve got the talent, lad. Ye deserve tha’ guild emblem."
Tome in hand, she heads to the Pillars of Pedagogy. Many sections her tome have parchment bookmarks folded in them—indicators of which pages were vandalized and to be avoided for now.
"Oh, hi!" Happening to pass by Kay, Stella stops and smiles. "Kay, right?" She notices the looks on the girl's and Phlydia's faces and cringes slightly, biting her lip. "Oh, sorry...Is...everything alright?"
Now where too next?
Always drawn to how things work, Sheemish found himself glancing around at the buildings around him. Every piece of machinery had an engine, this city and these people would be no different. The obvious engine of the city was it’s knowledge, and their books powered that knowledge. But where did the books come from? Who decided what information was available to be read? We’re there any texts not allowed? And if there was any new or crucial knowledge being shared now, who would see it first? cNow that would be interesting learn.
Out of pure curiosity, the blacksmith heads to the House of Binding.
She taps her chin. "I went to the bathhouse yesterday, but I haven't gone back to look yet. And the clothiers... But why would I have brought a book to either of those places?"
like to check in the washroom? Kay says trying to be strong and positive to her new friend Its not as though it grew legs and walked of… unless books here can do that she says woth her words trailing off but the refocuses and we could meet back here in a few hours to discuss any findings!