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Encounter 1: Maniacs in the Marketplace

The PCs are shopping at the Neverwinter marketplace when creatures from the sewers below stage an attack!

Rewards: 150 XP

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Excerpt from the personal journal of Dumpin Strongeye dated 6th Season, First Moon:

It is a small comfort that warms my heavy heart, to know Alerik would be proud if his eyes could today see what mine see. The lad is spoiled, but not so soft. Bruntor shows hints of genius in his fighting. The years will hone him into quite the weapon if he can survive…

To that end, the young lord wisely surrounds himself with the best kind of allies, his friends. They too are children, save the gardener Baern, and they are spoiled and dreaming most of the time not unlike the young lord himself, but they represent precisely what makes clan Ironehall so fierce. I am glad to have Uthas and Helt with us.

If only a tenth of that vast strength would be with me tonight, that I be saved from the damned visions. It has been so many seasons since my mistake; since “they” and I parted ways… Why have the dreams returned now? They’re increasing frequency has me on edge and I feel my focus suffers for it…

Could it have something to dow with this place, with Neverwinter itself?


Ohh, the pain! The utter pain! The blue flames drive me onwards. The blue flames must be fed!

A force, an invasion of mind. I must fight it, but the pain weakens my will. Whoever has the audacity must be killed.

I am summoned, very well, I can come and kill the summoner, then the blue flames will be fed!


The volcano roared forth and painted a line of destruction from the mountain all the way to the sea, burying Neverwinter in its devastating run, the tone of the region has changed. It is almost as if that one event had sent forth a call for conflict, a clarion call for sinister beings.

In a sense, it did just that. The loss of Neverwinter in essence severed the North from the more civilized regions along the Sword Coast, where Waterdeep has now become the vanguard against the wilderness. Traders no longer travel through the region, except by sea, and the lure of Neverwinter’s former treasures has pulled adventurers – often unsavory, often unprincipled – in great numbers to the devastated city.

Some are trying to rebuild, desperate to restore the busy port and the order it once imposed upon these inhospitable lands. But they battle as much as they build. They carry a carpenter’s hammer in one hand, a warhammer in the other.

Enemies abound: Thayans, opportunistic highwaymen, goblinkin, giants, and monsters alive and dead. And other things, darker things from deeper holes.

In the years since the cataclysm, the northern Sword Coast has grown darker by far. Now that Bruntor is beside me this search for clues for Lord Neverember’s true plans gives meaning to me. Indeed, it seems the nature of the dwarves in general, for we are always talking of things gone by and reclaiming the glory that once was.

Glory so far came at the marketplace, we fought well, but dwarves fight more effective as a close-unit. We survived and managed to save a few merchants, I wait to see what this Lost Heir has to say…


Aloha! My names Kekipi, and I wandered up to Neverwinter because I heard they have some awesome waves up north! Sadly, the waves are a bummer and there’s not much work to be had. But excitement is around every corner! There seems to be some political upheaval between some uppities and some sort of crown, not really sure what’s going on with all that but just this morning while I was doing my street show thing we got attacked by drakes and maniacs. Now, for a guy good with a stick like myself, this wasn’t a problem, and there were some heroic types around as well. But when we were done, a DRAGON landed, and that’s more trouble than I wanted. So into the river I went, water’s half like home anyways. Aloha!

This party of Dwarves met at the local tavern to collect their last compatriot. Once their we shared a nice brew or two, or many. Perhaps it be the ale or just boldness but I Uthas Battleheim told my cousin what his father the king of our great halls shared with me. The news of my familial ancestry shock them all. I am the bastard son of the old king of Neverwinter. My mother a Dwarf and my father the lustful king. I was never aware of this secret as I grew in my Dwarven home away from Neverwinter my true home or is it? The king has played tricks on his son before and his son is here to gain great glory and honor. Even so this would be a cruel trick indeed so I must look for some proof to support this allegation and even if found what would it do for me? I am no King and I can not expect the people of Neverwinter to follow the rule of a bastard dwarf can I? My cousin Bruntor’s Closet friend has given me information that the lost crown of Neverwinter will tell the truth of my origin. It is said that only the true heirs of neverwinter can wear it without going mad. In other words I risk my sanity for answers I might not care to know. Many have gone mad in pursuit of the truth, would I risk that or live a life happy with my dwarven lords? Exiting the tavern me and my own search for answers regarding other matters that might intertwine with the matter that has my attention. We sought information from a dwarven merchant in the city. Greatly amused at the sight of so many of his people the dwarf welcomed us with opened praise. Learning little but leaving in good spirits my party slit their attention and asked more locals of whispers that were in the air. Before I could ask a soul creatures of foul origins submerged from the sewers and began to attack the city’s people as well as my own party. We began dispatching these wretched souls back to the hell they crawled out of but there was only so much we could do to save the folks around us. All but the civilian next to myself and the gardener “as my cousin calls him” died in the attack. Just before I thought one of my companions would suffer a mortal wound, a shining figure came out of the darkness and obliterated his foes with a stunning display of swordsmanship and what looked like an aura of his own power not much different from the aura granted to Bruntor by his god. After the battle had ended I noticed two things. One that thank all the gods of Faerun that all my companions were safe and helping the wounded and two that this shinning warrior was wearing the crown of Neverwinter. Here is my chance to find the out the truth if I dare to ask and if it is true does this make this stranger my brother? Another question had just appeared in my mind, what if this crown did nothing to no one and this isn’t even the heir of Neverwinter? Before I could have any of my questions answered the stranger stuck his sword to the sky and warned us of the coming danger. I looked up and saw a bloody dragon! A goddamn bloody dragon. Well there’s only one thing to do and I already have my axe ready. Cousin you asked for glory, well it comes with wings.

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