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Azar
Master of Realmslore
1039 Posts |
 Posted - 30 Jan 2023 : 00:51:09
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"You must think me a cynic", she said, regret spreading across her features.
At this, he smiled while dropping a handful of coppers just beyond his now empty plate.
"No, no, not at all. I have met many cynics and I have come to know even more during my time in Waterdeep. The coarsest of cynics can be fundamentally decent. You...you consumed your conscience long ago. This false humility is as charming as a ballroom dress on a corpse. I do not know what you and your companions are planning, but I want no part of it." |
Stand with anybody that stands right. Stand with him while he is right and part with him when he goes wrong.
Earth names in the Realms are more common than you may think. |
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AJA
Senior Scribe
USA
720 Posts |
Posted - 31 Jan 2023 : 01:04:43
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quote:
Originally posted by Azar
"You must think me a cynic", she said, regret spreading across her features.
At this, he smiled while dropping a handful of coppers just beyond his now empty plate.
"No, no, not at all. I have met many cynics and I have come to know even more during my time in Waterdeep. The coarsest of cynics can be fundamentally decent. You...you consumed your conscience long ago. This false humility is as charming as a ballroom dress on a corpse. I do not know what you and your companions are planning, but I want no part of it."
Well, first off, I enjoyed reading that.
Second, if it was in reference to something on the previous page (or any other) I'd like to know, because I can't seem to place it.
Either way, I'm intrigued and would like to know more, especially of the parties involved.
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AJA
YAFRP
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AJA
Senior Scribe
USA
720 Posts |
Posted - 27 Feb 2023 : 02:20:19
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MISC'LLANEA
Presenting within a series of interesting and informative amusements, courtesy of enterprising scribe Delbra Narganna, the self-styled 'Opportunistic Quill of Oghma', and her most excellent on-going chap-book 'Narratives and Esoterica'. Published and graciously reproduced here for purview under the auspices of Tym Limited, Waterdeep, whose offerings can be commonly found for distribution and purchase in discerning scroll-shops and brandished for sale by chap-criers at all prominent way-moots across the city.
(please note that any strange editorial asides which may appear herein are not approved or recognized by the author or her publisher, and should in no manner be considered authoritative, and futhermore should be reported immediately to the nearest representatives of the Guild of Scriveners, Scribes, and Clerks or to the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors)
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'The Court of The Lord of Ulversdeeping'
"...and behind him followed his council, a veritable whos-who of gnomish lordlings and suzerains, announced proudly alongside their official titles; living ruby Immyrbell of Gnollhead; high hammer Noleskar of Quaint Carve; Bleskul of Blue Nod, thistlecrowned; Borenbrul, primary axe-man of Noth Dwelling; and then Gimbro, jerrif of Winding Windfells. And they each carried proudly a signifier of their holding; and so Immyrbell carried a great ruby faceted in the half-round rose Gnollhead fashion, and Noleskar held aloft the carving-hammer Annadrawn, tied in ribbons of purple and gold, and Bleskul wore his great golden thistle-crown brightened with droplets of alexandrite, and Borenbrul brandished seperately both knobbled and carved halves of the axe Twainlight Fair, and then came Gimbro carrying a golden fell-ferret in outstretched arms, the excited creature loudly and animatedly maintaining its' displeasure the entire way."
excerpted from 'Observations From The Court of The Lord of Ulversdeeping, Taken On the Occurrence of The Ninth Shieldmeet of The Current Lord, Therein'
originally published in Narratives and Esoterica (vol.II, issue IX)
by Delbra Narganna, Sage of Small Matters and Opportunistic Quill of Oghma
Year of Rogue Dragons, 1373DR
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'Night-Rings' and the Sporting Amusements of the Commonfolk
"Increasingly in the alleys and courts of the Lower Wards are found 'night-rings', spectacles of blood and combat in poor imitation of the pomp and pageantry of the Field of Triumph. The crowds here are smaller, but no less eager to cheer and thirst for blood and spend their coins wagering on the outcomes. They feature some half-dozen bouts of various flavor, promoted by street-criers who hype the upcoming show and advertise the chosen location some days in advance.
It is whispered that these proceedings (and a large part of the profits from them) are organized by the crime-lord known as the Xanathar, or by any number of smaller street gangs active in Dock and South Wards. The Lords have not yet seen fit to crack down upon these events (and to be fair, they are honestly more professional and contained than your typical Dock Ward tavern-brawl), but it is commonly rumored that they do have eyes and ears amongst the crowds.
Vendors of food and drink roam the edges of these gatherings doing brisk business while plentiful sums change hands in betting, both before the show and around the ring as the night progresses. Entertainments begin with 'blade-tongue' bouts to warm up the crowd, then move on to bare-knuckle or blunt object (commonly short-staff or cudgel) matches in which the combatants beat each other senseless. The bloodiest matches are last, the animal fights, and unlike the earlier rounds are usually to the death; all manner of creature are welcome, but anything too big or too exotic is not to be found here, as it would earn more coin being displayed at the Field instead. The stars of these animal fights are usually the infernal fowls* which never fail to send the crowd home happy."
excerpted from 'An Accounting of the Curiosities and Sporting Amusements of the Commonfolk of Waterdeep'
originally published in Narratives and Esoterica (vol.II, issue XII)
by Delbra Narganna, Sage of Small Matters and Opportunistic Quill of Oghma
Year of Rogue Dragons, 1373DR
* infernal fowls, Abyssal cocks roosters bred with nupperibo (don't ask) to be black of feather and bleak of heart. Talons as long and as eager as a hungry Hin's supper knife. The ever-sinister Xanathar or malicious drow beast-melders in the deep ways have long been rumored to be the source of these vicious creatures as have the nobles of House Phylund in the city above (sometimes even in conjunction!)
Names found on a typical night-ring card:
Barrel-Gut Barlo 'as wide as he is wicked'
(not to be confused with fellow brawler)
Bugbear Broon 'killed, cooked and ate his last three opponents'
Hoar's Revenge, an infernal fowl, also 'killed, cooked and ate his last three opponents'
Nelbror The Slop Street Assassin 'master of all manglings and bully-boy of the beatings'
Hammer-Fist Hargran 'has fists harder than Gond's howling forge-hammers'
and
The Leaping Slasher (infernal fowl) and Death-Jowls (pit-dog) and The Ravenous Unraveler (one-eyed snow tiger)
Jethil
'The Cobblestone Chanter'. 'Each word hits with the blow of a thrown cobblestone'. Engages in competition at a number of 'night-rings' in the alleys and courts of the Lower Wards, using a variety of off-the-cuff vulgar, amusing and insulting word-play to 'defeat' his opponents (the winner is acclaimed by popular crowd support, and the loser is pelted by rotten vegetables and other, more unfriendly, projectiles). He works for-hire as a street crier and door-musician when not competing, and also keeps an eye out for adventuring groups newly-arrived to the city, who may be in need of a torchbearer or knowledgeable street guide.
Mother Consequences
Beldra, a native of South Ward. 'You have sown your folly, and you are now reaping the consequences'. Formerly a veteran sparsword at the Field of Triumph. Slowed by an earned collection of infirmities and an addiction to strong drink. Now earns hard coin knuckle-fighting at a variety of 'night-rings' in the alleys and courts of the Lower Wards, splitting the bill with such luminaries as The Nag Street Ripper and Barrel-Gut Barlo.
The Nag Street Ripper
Giant, bristle-haired, over-scarred mastiff. 'Teeth like a look into Tempus's sword-closet'. Owned by the grudge-coin Rosk Toghruul, who puts him forth at a variety of 'night-rings' in the alleys and courts of the Lower Wards. Currently a bettors favorite, has taken on all comers, from infernal fowls to snow-cats to bred pit-dogs.
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Sea Gulls and Their Uses
'The Sea Gulls see plenty. The Sea Gulls hear even more. The problem with the sea gulls is, that the sea gulls don't ever remember what they see or hear. Not for long, anyways
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"In the great swirling confusions and bustling industries of the Docks are passed along a great many valuables and spoken aloud a great many secrets. It is commonly thought that the tumult and noise are more than enough to foil any attempt at spying or eavesdropping (magical or otherwise), but the truth is that nothing transpires here without being seen or heard by the gulls of the docks, everpresent nearby, wheeling and squawking, underfoot and overhead. Of course, what is plainly seen or heard to the human experience is not at all the same to the gulls, and divining that information and attempting to translate it into something useful is a rare and specialized talent even among those who might have the means of converse with them in the first place.
In Waterdeep, the foremost of these weird-talkers are the man known only as The Gullmaster and the woman called Mistress of the Grey Wings one of which is under the thumb of the Xanathar, and the other of whom is in the pocket of The One (although which is which seems to be a matter of open disagreement). Then there is Foambeard Fendrul and The Dock Street Seer, said to be the most useful of those other, lesser lights which attempt to incorporate the gull-sight into their whisperings and general information brokering (Fendrul by the way is Hin, and the only 'beard' he has is the namesake foaming one formed from the contents of the tankards he is constantly at the bottom of!).
There is also, perhaps, Sea-Mad Seasquall, a curious man-creature* which capers and squawks and behaves more as a man lost to the throes of lunacy, but who does have insights for any who can decipher them (and not only second-hand overhearings from nearby gossipy gulls but also inherited remembrances of favored wind currents and sunlight glinting on the whale-roads of the Trackless Sea, and islets piled high with pirate treasure and sparkling with pearl and other sea-wealth disgorged from the depths)."
excerpted from 'Strange Stories of the City: The Winged Scallywags of Waterdeep'
originally published in Narratives and Esoterica (vol.II, issue XII)
by Delbra Narganna, Sage of Small Matters and Opportunistic Quill of Oghma
Year of Rogue Dragons, 1373DR
* in truth an ordinary gull luckless enough to have been caught in a wild magic storm and reincarnated into human form under the moon-mad light of Selûne**
** moon-mad light of Selûne (those strange nights when the moonlight comes down widdershins, or 'falls upside-down', and things are seen not where they were, and what is and what was dance around each other with wild abandonment, and the fae elves in their forest homes weave their mithril and brew the inks for their eldritch moon-runes; "on those nights when Malar sneaks to the top of Selûne's celestial white tower and rides her moon-beams with abandonment, down into the souls of those unfortunates born with a bit too much of the wilderness in them", cf. Noemara's Northern Knowings and Sayings)
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AJA
YAFRP
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sleyvas
Great Reader
USA
11427 Posts |
Posted - 27 Feb 2023 : 15:04:09
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quote:
Originally posted by AJA
* infernal fowls, Abyssal cocks roosters bred with nupperibo (don't ask) to be black of feather and bleak of heart. Talons as long and as eager as a hungry Hin's supper knife. The ever-sinister Xanathar or malicious drow beast-melders in the deep ways have long been rumored to be the source of these vicious creatures as have the nobles of House Phylund in the city above (sometimes even in conjunction!)
But... I ... want... to ... ask .... {rolls 1 on will save} ROOSTERS not HENS? That is one horny rooster. Guessing the nupperibo had to be shapechanged. |
Alavairthae, may your skill prevail
Phillip aka Sleyvas |
Edited by - sleyvas on 27 Feb 2023 15:33:33 |
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AJA
Senior Scribe
USA
720 Posts |
Posted - 28 Feb 2023 : 02:23:25
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Turns out that in the Realms roosters are just like elves, and can breed with absolutely anything.
Including elves. What do you think aarakocra are? "Wait, but aarakocra are parrot-people." Yes, that's the elven part. All poncy and pretty.
Also, The Shaar is totally overrun with Roosterphants.
Another thing not to ask about.
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AJA
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sleyvas
Great Reader
USA
11427 Posts |
Posted - 28 Feb 2023 : 14:22:10
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quote:
Originally posted by AJA
Turns out that in the Realms roosters are just like elves, and can breed with absolutely anything.
Including elves. What do you think aarakocra are? "Wait, but aarakocra are parrot-people." Yes, that's the elven part. All poncy and pretty.
Also, The Shaar is totally overrun with Roosterphants.
Another thing not to ask about.
You know, I had heard a rumor that hollyphants were actually an export to the outer planes from Katashaka, being rumored to be born of a strain of golden feathered roosters believed to have been sent as a divine blessing by "the Dawn Cock"... a giant rooster believed to live in the upper boughs of Yggdrasil and which heralds the coming of the sun... It's believed there is a village on the western shores of Katashaka which has an extremely non-magical variation of Hollyphant that are treated as sacred by the local population. The same population is said to possess a small variety of griffin, known as a griffock, which appears to be a mixture of rooster and leopard. I had blown such stories off as Leiran fallacies, but perhaps.... nah, probably just another instance of similar development.
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Alavairthae, may your skill prevail
Phillip aka Sleyvas |
Edited by - sleyvas on 28 Feb 2023 16:19:34 |
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AJA
Senior Scribe
USA
720 Posts |
Posted - 11 Mar 2023 : 04:25:57
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Ambygale and Osburr Boltbelly
Brother-and-sister team of Hin cobble-cooks, most often set up their colorful stall and cooking apparatus around the confines of Caravan Court, in the deep foredawn before the true hustle and bustle begins. They make a strong morning-brew of roast calanor berries and chicory-root (potent, but liable to upset the delicate stomach), and offer a full-fulsome (or a 'Luskan-fry'), a hearty wake-fast of bacon, scrambled eggs, blood sausage and low-beans, served to-go in a 'bowl' of hollowed hard-bread.
Osburr is gregarious and irrepressible, and masterful at the the charming and unskilled 'little-songs' of the halflings, while Ambygale is reserved and silent and singularly focused on her culinary bladework and cookery.
Jelendrae "Burninghand"
Lady-Master (captain) of the sky-ship Bright-Sleigh. Her ship, led by its' brightly-colored sails and distinctive three-headed dragon prow (the carvings corresponding to Malstavryth 'Midwinter's Silent Overseer', Alshandlaera 'She Whose Scales Shimmer Through the Night', and Aerargeld 'Glimmer White-Wing', the three mythic pullers of Selûne's celestial sleigh, 'o'er whose moonlit skies flies blithe and bright') navigates the cloud-ways between Halruaa and Silverymoon, with oft-recorded stops in Waterdeep, Candlekeep, and Ormpur. How she gained the command of such a ship is unknown; she does not appear to be Halruaan and, despite her long captaincy of the Bright-Sleigh, there appears to be no record of her life before that (or of the ship itself, for that matter).
Her cargo holds "a great collection of strange and wonderful rareties, perilously gathered from The Realms Afar" (large black pearls and thick wedges of fine tortoiseshell, beast-skins, saffron, strange honey; priceless glowstone sculptures and fruits of many hues, vibrant and sweet, and otherwise unknown to the folk of the Northern Realms), as well as more mundane but valuable and easily-transported goods well-grown and perfectly-whorled lengths of wood cut precisely to the specifications of wand and stave are always welcomed in Silverymoon!; and also personal missives, the urgent, sealed and encoded kind requiring the speedy travel favored by guilds and governments, and not a few secretive societies besides.
Jelendrae prefers her hair unbound and her feet unshod, wears slit robes patterned with either repeating motifs of birds in flight or mixed offsetting patterns of golden shell and silver goblet. Her voice is loudly blunt and brazen, and forged through many years of commanding her way through howling gales. Her own personal cabin is a cramped affair, horizontally ringed with shelves of colorful potted wildflowers, mosses and lichens, all attended to with the utmost care, and featuring a single simple bed and a singular desk, carved with interwoven arrows and lightning bolts and other emblems of speed and promptness.
Nyst The Moonmaulk
(NIST) A dandy and fancy-stave of the first order. Haughty, confident, flouncing, idiosyncratic. Blessed by the Art and fortunate enough to know it, exactly the kind of apprentice that thrives in Blackstaff Tower (or flames out spectacularly, even odds). Engaged in a long-standing and entirely-inappropriate romantic relationship with one of his teachers, Gulfrûne, which only serves to puff his collar that much more. Among his peers and his detractors (largely the same thing) he is commonly called Moonmaulk, after the overly-flavored and sweetened Waterdhavian milk-pudding of the same name.
His preferred attire is a long show-coat of red leather, tooled with red roses, outlined with long tasselled fringes and gleaming with half-a-hundred silver studs, over a white under-shirt of lacings and throat ruffles, and trousers of red-and-blue checker pattern, tucked loosely into crimson calf-high boots ornamented with rosettes of chased silver, and fastened with braided silver lacings.
Has as a familiar the Dessarin dun-cat, Quickfellow (unusually fussy and timorous but, if forced, can still unleash a roar to honor their forebears).
'Rune-Marked' Nadrelimbrar
An ancient limb-bowed forest guardian, on whom was invested the sigils of not just one, but five masters of the Weave, forest-friends all, including Tulrun of the Tent and the great druid Uthgang Jyarl. This investiture has served to strengthen and fortify Nadrelimbrar and, upon the (violent) event of their death, empowers fatal transformation into a fearsome rampaging nature elemental, in order to ensure that the vengeance of the Forest does not go unheeded.
The last time a ritual of this sort was performed was for Raorthrust "Snow-Bowed," greatest ent of his age, a direct scion of Emmantiensien the Treant King, The Titan of Morn and Noon and Night (himself one of the Four Flinders, the four surviving branches of Nelebrimmaur, the First Ent, sundered and quartered by Bahgtru during the War of Elf and Orc). Raorthrust fought against the madness of House Vyshaan and the burning of the nature fastness of Miinthintle during the Last Crown War, and in his transformed wake he left the slow-healing scars now known as Narmista (where darkling autumn and the Patchwork Princess reign year-round) and Illhazel (where thick ravines, carved of relentless root and savage storm, are now host to darkly-whorled trunks and everpresent, many-clawed branches that seem to follow every movement, and crowd in upon tresspassers with feverish eagerness).
Ulthorst
A sage in the field of giantkind (with specializations in languages, major lineages, and legends and folklore). Tall and lank, and stringy-haired and awkward. Has solid researches and obscure references not only of Ostoria, but also many of the varied giantish diasporas afterwards (especially those of the more far-ranging cloud giant kingdoms). Low-lit and scroll-lined parlor on the Moorewalk, South Ward. Fancies adventuring parties, very willing to offer a discount on his services if there is a real possibility of him getting his hands on actual giantish records or remains of any sort.
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'the Dessarin dun-cat'
The species of which has the aformentioned over-coat, as well as traditional black ruff, leg-bands, and forehead blaze; underbelly and sides sometimes spotted with smoky grey; has long, tufted ears and occasionally a darker brownish-orange 'moon-curl' (underchin "beard"); loves sunshine and blue sky and the crunch crunch of hunted bones, and chafes at home imprisonment.
Legend says that the dun-cat under great duress can roar and call forth a 'hail of fangs', a barrage of piercing offensive missiles; and also that it may physically manifest the tall grass, to efficiently obscure its position; and finally that, late in the gloaming, it repeatedly coughs and issues forth the last absorbed sighs of sunset, and that such effluence may be taken up and carried forth by fortunate travelers, in lieu of lost torch or lantern.
Not to be confused with the dunstripe (slevvercat), which haunts the more overgrown regions of the High Forest and outdoes the dun-cat in both size and in the barbaric brilliancy of their teeth; nor with the Dessarin honey-cat, whose troublesome territoriality and insouciant lack-of-care continually torments any visitor near their dens.
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Ahghairon the Old
Ahghairon was born Ahghairon Belnoth Undrur, but once he left home never used anything other than his first name (which was also his great-grandfather's given name). He acquired or went by other names in his early life, but by the time he was resident in Waterdeep, he was only "Ahghairon" to the world. "Many were those who thought me Wise; But I always thought myself Merry" (apocrypha, attributed to, and said to have been inscribed upon the lid of the tomb of, Ahghairon the Old, deep in his spell-locked and -guarded tower). [ Source: Ed Greenwood, Ed Greenwood Discord Patreon channel #q4ed, 02/21/23. Full name/naming history given. Additional detail by me. ]
Haeradauntra the Silent Shadow
[ Source: Ed Greenwood, Ed Greenwood Discord Patreon channel #q4ed, 03/09/23. Name/description given ]
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AJA
YAFRP
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Edited by - AJA on 11 Mar 2023 04:34:36 |
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AJA
Senior Scribe
USA
720 Posts |
Posted - 18 Mar 2023 : 02:25:19
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continued on from Jelendrae "Burninghand"
Her epithet of "Burninghand" is due to the fact that the fingers and back-side of her right hand, wrapping around her wrist and up her arm halfway to her elbow is a mix of vibrant tattoo-work, as well as an apellation that she carefully cultivates through noticeable use of flaming and incendiary spells.
Those who know her well enough or work closely enough with her to have seen her quarters believe it is her cabin desk and its' obvious 'emblems of speed and promptness' that allow her to Master the Bright-Sleigh, but this is not true. What is true, is that the markings on her hand are not tattoos, but an actual (semi-) physical gauntlet, an arcane artifact of ancient age, that bonded and merged with her flesh.
Note that Master in this case, does not mean that she is the reason the Bright-Sleigh flies. Jelendrae (and her gauntlet) is simply the reason that the Bright-Sleigh (found crashed and long-abandoned high in the Cloven Mountains of Erlkazar) responds to commands or sorcerous inputs at all. And also the reason for the colorful sails and the unique three-headed prow, which were physically re-shaped at her whim.
No, the reason the Bright-Sleigh flies is entirely due to the bound enchantments, salvageable and restorable even in their downed state, which run outwardly through the steering helm and the confidence of the one steering her; and also to the skills of the Navigator Azagrim "Sky-Reader"; First-Shift Helmsman Faëthander, Second-Shift Helmsman Emmalira, Third-Shift Helmsman Olthaera Tloun, and Initiate Helmsman Izanya Merelghast; and also to the skilled crew who run about ceaselessly trimming and reefing sails and also constantly swab the decks with oils of merethemmel* and tinctures of mystic silver** to keep them supple and bouyant; and finally, to the Art of the Shipmages Olbarrim "Dawn-cloak" and Keskeldra the Dew-Ringed, whose enchantments continually work to enforce the bound elementals at the heart of the ship, and keep them docile and performing.
* Oil from the merethemn shrub-plant native to the dry eastern highlands of Halruaa, which are actually quite favorable to the pliancy and bouyancy of ship timbers treated with such. Nimbral is a great importer of this oil for their waterbourne ships as is Lapaliiya, for the bows of their infamous archer units.
** It's the stuff silly sages and sillier alchemists misinterpret as moon-silver (the drippings obtained from pressing raw starmetal); or Derro's-Gold (arising from the belief that the Derro prize silver as other races do gold, in their enchantments); or heavy magic (and sometimes called super heavy magic) and also a disconcordant parade of "one of a number of things that the goddess Lurue dipped her horn into, in popular mythology, once". It's actually a variation on the everbright treatments used on arms and armor, discovered by the Halruaans to be particularly effective at defending against the worst of the high-altitude elements.
I mean, that's what my reliable local sage tells me, and I pay him good coin, so surely he wouldn't?
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continued of Aerargeld 'Glimmer White-Wing'
Aerargeld 'Glimmer White-Wing'
A great white wyrm, one of the three mythic pullers of Selûne's celestial sleigh, 'o'er whose moonlit skies flies blithe and bright' (pulled in trio with the great gold wyrm Malstavryth 'Midwinter's Silent Overseer' and the great silver wyrm Alshandlaera 'She Whose Scales Shimmer Through the Night').
When Aerageld was still a wyrmling it is said that she sat outside her lair in the Northernmost Realms and stared for hours untold into the deep black velvet of the night skies and the glittering and diamond-bright beacons that called to her, and also the giant overarching silvery disc that was close enough for her to read the wendings and the ways on its' surface, but still far enough to lurk, tangibly, forever out of reach. It was these scintillating bright spots in the skies that fascinated and confounded her.
Ice she knew, glittering and cold. Snowflakes she knew, flashing and intricate. But those dull things were touchable and knowable and the stars, flashing and cold, and the moon, glittering and intricate and unfathomable, were not. And so one day her heart swelled and her courage peaked, and she took flight to find out the answers that had so long evaded her.
Upward she flew, past the warm boundaries of bluish skies.
Upward she flew, into the black velvet of the night skies.
Upward she flew, into the great Sea of Night, where Faerûn ceases to exist and the Celestial Heavens and the Realms Unknowable begin.
And upward she flew still, into The Void and The Doom of Living Things, and when she finally reached her destination and landed among Selûne's glittering Celestial Domain, her wings were completely grown over in ice, and her heart had frozen and ceased to beat.
But with her final failing breaths there her eyes beheld the magnificence of the goddess Selûne, wrapt in all the unknowable majesty and mystery of the stars and the moon, solemnly approaching her, an endless trail of luminescent and serene Handmaidens in her wake. And Selûne reached out her hand and uttered forth, "breathe my child and be reborn, for you have found that which you have travelled far and faithfully for", and suddenly the inescapable ice fled from her wings and the fatal coldness fled from her heart, and Aerargeld, reborn, knelt and asked to be allowed to stay and learn of the wendings and the ways of the stars and the moon, and of all their mysteries besides, and to this Selûne agreed, in return for the wyrm becoming a herald at the head of her celestial sleigh, and they had many teachings and conversations during their endless journeys ever since.
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The Five NPCs You Meet In Waterdeep
