haldir

Lost Mine of Phandelver

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Lost Mine of Phandelver

Wizards of the Coast D&D 5th edition starter adventure

Designed by Richard Baker & Christopher Perkins

Cartography by Mike Schley

 

Neverwinter & the surrounding area

 

(each hex is 5 miles)

 

You were in the city of Neverwinter when your dwarf patron and friend, Gundren Rockseeker, hired you to escort a wagon to Phandalin.

 

The town of Phandalin, is a small frontier town of about 100 people. The current version of the town is built upon the ruins of the previous settlement. Which was laid waste to by orc raiders many years ago. The people of Phandalin have also been allies with the dwarves & gnomes that live in the hills in the surrounding area. Trading with them & calling upon them in times of need such as for protection & such.

Gundren has gone ahead with a veteran warrior, named Sildar Hallwinter, to attend to business in the town, while the five of you follow with the supplies. You will be paid 10 gp each by the owner of Barthen's Provisions in Phandalin, when you deliver the wagon safely to that trading post.

 

That was a couple days ago, the weather is nice & there is a slight breeze from the north. So far there hasn't been any trouble along the road. Actually you've only encounter 2 other groups, one being a merchant & the other a group of minstrels. Both were headed north to Neverwinter to sale their wares or skills.

 

You've arrived at the Triboar trail, the road to Phandalin. While you haven't encountered trouble, the trail is known for bandit attacks. You are on your guard.

 

 

DM notes:

 

I need a marching order & who is driving the wagon & who is riding in the wagon. No skill is required to drive the oxen/wagon. They will stop if the reins are dropped. Also is anyone scouting ahead? Also feel free to describe your character & how your character came to know the dwarf, Gundren Rockseeker.

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Nyssa, a very beautiful and exotic woman (blonde long hair with large golden doe-eyes), looks around the back of the wagon reluctantly. Too timid to initiate conversation with the strangers around her, she tugs at her military tabard nervously and clutches tightly to her shield emblazoned with the symbol of Sune, the goddess of beauty. She rarely makes eye contact with those around her and begins to wonder why she always helps her friend Gundren. "It's because he knows I hate saying no", she whispers. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she said it out "loud".

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"Cheer up, lass!", says the flamboyant male halfing to the exotic woman sitting in the back of the wagon. The black haired, green eyed and tanned halfling sits in the drivers seat, next to the driver.  "Gundren only calls on his friends that he can REALLY trust for jobs like this!  That makes you and me SPECIAL!  Besides, the only place better than the freedom of the open road is the freedom of the sea."  Laughing loudly, Pimorin Shortwater, sailor and bard flips out his flute and begins to play an upbeat tune.

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Ellindar walks along side the wagon, easily keeping up with the plodding pace set by the oxen.  Every fourth step, then end of the staff he carries hits the ground raising a small puff of dust.  Nondescript for an moon elf, his clothes are of the sturdy sort that a traveler would favor and are neutral in color.  One of the few things that stand out about him is the sleepy barn owl that alternates between riding on his shoulder and the tail of the wagon.  His bright green eyes, dart about curiously.

 

At the halflings remark, Ellindar smiles.  "Yes, Gundren knows the value friends, and is a fine judge of character.  I can only think of one or two occasions where I have seen his judgement mistaken in the last 20 some odd years.  And my master, who has known him longer than that, thinks the same."

 

As the music begins, he puts a bit more of a spring into his step, his pace becoming more of a skipping jig.  His draws a querulous hoot from the owl on his shoulder, which flutters back over the the wagon, ruffling it's feathers before tucking it's head under it's wing.

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My Ranger character is scouting from the air, swooping from tree to tree and such.

 

And mostly being quiet. (Edit)

Edited by TGP

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The dark-haired wood elf driving the cart has remained silent for most of the trip, replying tersely though not unkindly to any queries. His simple clothing is a faded grey-brown, over which he wears a green cloak pinned with a red-painted carved wooden brooch. He introduced himself as Eldric of Wealdath, and his only gear is a short, utilitarian blade and his pack, which is never far from his sight.

 

Eldric winces slightly as the halfling begins playing, the combination of his proximity and acute hearing resulting in some discomfort despite the fine tune being played. Replying to the others, he notes, "Gundren's leads have yet to fail me. I am glad for the opportunity to offer him my assistance in turn."

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"And where has Guldren been leading you cousin?"  Ellindar quips.

 

"Most recently to Waterdeep, recovering a tome on behalf of Candlekeep." Eldric replies deadpan, with only a slight glimmer in his eye and a turn of his mouth to acknowledge the wordplay.

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"Ah, Candlekeep; a place that I have long wanted to visit.  Alas, I can not yet afford the fee that they charge to study their collections of arcane research.  Perhaps one day I'll" *ahem* "acquire such riches as to be able to afford an extended stay."  He then twirls his staff about his head while skipping a few steps along side the wagon.

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"Hear Hear! To adventure and riches!"

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"I hope that one day you shall. Just be sure none of the collection leaves with you lest I be tasked with the retrieval..." His slightly exasperated tone suggests this is not an uncommon occurrence.

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Something on the trail ahead.........

 

"You've been on the Triboar trail for about half a day. As you come around a bend you spot two dead horses sprawled about 50 feet ahead of you blocking the path. Each has several ratty- feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here with a steep embankment & dense thickets on either side."

 

What do you do?

 

(note TGP you would have seen this before the rest of the party)

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Quickly hopping down from the wagon, Pimorin runs and takes cover hehind the rocks on the right, scanning the scene for movement, shortbow at the ready.

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Eldric halts the cart, hoping to protect the oxen by keeping them out of any crossfire. He then hops down as well and cautiously approaches the blockade, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

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"I've got you covered, Eldric", whispers the bard.

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