Session 0: The Allmighty Nebitzikalidrastus Report

General Summary

The Setting Spear wasn't the greatest pub Karsan Heler had ever played in, but the innkeep, a massive bear of a man called Goran Petrovich, was willing to give him a place to sleep and a square meal in exchange for some music in the taproom, and the tips kept him in drinks and breakfast.   Another traveller had also shown up this evening, some slip of a girl in loose blue robes that just wandered in off the road as he was setting up. One girl, travelling alone and, as far as he could tell, unarmed? If she wasn't a spellcaster of some kind he'd eat his instrument. Still, he felt like he was missing something. Purple hair? Unusual, but dyes exist, and he'd like to think himself capable of spotting another changeling. Her cheekbones were sharper than human, and she did look quite young, maybe a half elf? He didn't think he'd pissed off any half elves recently, so maybe she was safe.   The entrance of an absolutely massive Firbolg managed to draw her previously wandering attention (Unsurprisingly, what did that guy eat? He was taller than Goran!) and suddenly it pinged: No instinctual body language, almost like half of her was subconsciously convinced she didn't even have one. He hadn't expected to see a Kalashtar here, but he supposed he wasn't the only one on Eberron to have a reason to run far and fast.   The Firbolg warrior walked up to the bar with the kind of quiet confidence that comes from being 7ft tall and carrying a sword not much smaller, and proceeded to ask for a glass of water. Huh. To his credit Goran did provide, even finding a glass from under the bar, though Karsan couldn't fault the guy's expression at being served what was essentially dishwater.   His second drink was actually a tankard of the local Kozje Pivo, so maybe he just wanted to wash the road dust from his mouth. Drink in hand he looked around, narrowing in on Pathfinder Branimir Jovanovich still playing with that damned massive crossbow of his. The damned thing gave Karsan nightmares, he'd had far too many experiences on the wrong end of weapons like that, but he couldn't deny it made for an impressive authority symbol, especially combined with the blue and red of Tirdava.   "Hi, are you Pathfinder Jovanovich? I'm Ernest Stormborn, there was a letter on the board in Tirdava, saying you needed adventurers here?"   "Yeah, I got work for you, though you'll want to get a group together. Kobolds can be nasty buggers, already got one death from their raids." The ranger took a pull of his drink to disguise his expression as the Kalashtar girl walked up almost directly behind Ernest.   "I'll help." The girl smiled wryly for a beat before continuing. "Vishara Nari, I'm a sorcerer."   Karsan groaned as he realised what had just happened.
"Here ya go Branimir. You got your group within a week fair and square, though the gods know how." Deftly catching the thrown sovereign, the pathfinder gave him a cocky grin.   "You know, they could use a minder Karsan, how d'ya feel like earning a few of these back?"   "I suppose it would be the noble thing to do, and coin's always good. Yeah fine, I'll tag along."  

  As was becoming depressingly normal, Ernest woke up on the verge of a scream, the phantom sensation of a blade in his gut as he struggled to control his breathing and not wake his new companions. Limbs jittery with panicked energy and static, he earthed himself through his swordblade before begrudgingly consigning himself to wakefulness.   Nodding to Goran as the man brought a few plates of some kind of meat dish out to a group of herders, he stepped out into the cold pre-dawn air, allowing the pristine beauty of the twilit valley to slow his pulse.   The visions hadn't been stopped by this latest jaunt either then, he reflected, a pity. If he was still afflicted with them even on another world then he could only assumed they were specifically aimed at him, and not just somewhere he happened to be. Of course, it was probably good for his homeworld that there wasn't about to be a calamity that could affect most of a continent, but hadn't he had enough disasters in his life already?   Still, bemoaning the state of his life would help with precisely nothing, he reminded himself, and breakfast was apparently being served to those who wanted it. Everything would either fix itself over breakfast or not, but at least he'd be dealing with it on a full stomach.   Breakfast turned out to be some kind of meat and bread dish, too messy to be a sandwich, but too sandwichy for Ernest to be able to give it any other name. He did however manage to get the lay of the local terrain from a few of the local herders who took their goats (always goats, what was it with this village and goats?) out to the western slopes near the Old Watchtower that the kobolds were supposedly holed up in. By the time his two compatriots had joined him in the taproom, he was perhaps not in high spirits, but he was focused and ready to start the day.   The hike through the harsh mountainside towards their destination was incredibly picturesque, but even he had to admit that it was a tiring journey. rough scree and outcroppings forced them to struggle through or change direction, and while he'd always been the athletic type, Ernest had to admit that the other two were... not. Vishara had stowed her cloak an hour in, and was still red from exertion as she struggled up the steep slope, though now that he was actually looking at her, some of that was definitely sunburn as well. Karsan on the other hand apparently tanned like he was from a desert, having darkened several shades simply in the time they'd been walking, but was also wearing full leathers in sweltering heat and bright sunlight, which was always made for an unpleasant combination. Chainmail was heavy, but a light enough tunic kept it from being too stuffy at least.   Shifting his path to get them into the shade of a small canyon between two peaks, he glanced around before taking a seat on a rock and doffing his pack.   "I reckon we've got another hour or so from the descriptions I got," he explained to their questioning glances, "and the last thing we want to do is finally get there just to be too knackered to actually do anything. Let's take twelve to cool off in the shade and catch our breath."   Vishara paused, looking over from where she was sat on her bag.
"Twelve?"   "Yeah, or thereabouts. Don't want to rest too long otherwise we'll seize up, so just take a seat in the shade and grab a bite to eat or something." Deciding to take his own advice, Ernest turned to get the dried berries from his bag.   "Twelve..? Karsan?" Glancing up at her mildly bemused tone, Ernest saw Vishara and Karsan engaging in an oddly precise silent conversation, before the bard glanced back to him.   "From context," the smaller man ventured, "is that twelve minutes?"   "OH. Oh, yes sorry. I, well I got here through one of the portals you see." He paused for a moment to gauge their reactions, trying to buy himself some time. "I'm surprised I've had as few language difficulties as I have really, considering how many different languages there are on my world."   Vishara nodded and smiled.
"Yes, arcane languages like Common are static, so you only really get linguistic drift in areas where spellcasters are rarer. I'm not from this world either though, so who knows what the locals say or not."   "And with me also being from another world, that leaves precisely nobody who can help us with that," Karsan smirked, "I forsee some entertaining conversations in our future."   "At least the doors are normal sized." Ernest grinned at his two fellow worldwalkers. "I was worried going through that I'd end up in a country of gnomes or something, and not be able to enter any of the buildings."   They were fine with it, Ernest thought to himself, so why had the crawling feeling up his spine not abated? A glint in the corner of his eye caused him to jump a little and peer further down the canyon, but it barely went another 30ft before opening up on the slope above a forested valley. A group of four peaks stood opposite them, seperated slightly from their neighbours, the Children of Glory, the herders had called them right?   He was about to shrug it off when he caught Vishara's eye.
*Ambush?* The question echoed between them almost as if she'd actually said it, and Ernest found himself gripping his sword tightly.   "Shall we move on?" The question was forcibly casual, but if Ernest had had any doubts about his intuition, the rapid agreement of both Vishara and Karsan dispelled them soundly.  

Rewards Granted

400xp each   Crude Blue Dragonshield   Map to the Temple of the Sun in Rags   Polished Azurite Stone   53sp-4cp (17sp-8cp each)

Missions/Quests Completed

The Allmighty Nebitzikalidrastus: Completed   Scale it Up: Accepted   Seek the Sun in Rags: Accepted

Character(s) interacted with

Karsan Heler had been in Senka for a few days, playing for bed and board at The Setting Spear. As such he has become an acquaintance of Goran Petrovich and Pathfinder Branimir Jovanovich.   Ernest Stormborn and Vishara Nari are now known to Pathfinder Branimir Jovanovich and made a decent first impression.