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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
 Posted - 12 Jan 2006 : 18:01:13
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After sitting for a while longer, just watching the ever-changing patterns of the river, Selm stands up and shivers again in the cool spring evening air. He offers his hand to Rhiannon, and she tentatively takes it.
“Come, we should probably be moving inside, as lovely as it is out here. There is much still to be done this night. As I said earlier, the Ashabenford Arms is very comfortable, the service exquisite and incredibly thoughtful, but it really is far more than I am accustomed to, and to be honest, far more than I need. I assume you also prefer to sleep beneath the stars, but it’s not so bad as all that.” He smiles at the trepidation on Rhiannon’s face. “Indeed, if you asked for you room to be akin to sleeping in a forest, I do believe they would actually strive to do something for you.”
As the two walk from the banks of the Ashaba to the inn, they brush into a passer-by, who turns and growls at them “Watch wher’ yer goin’.” The stranger is almost invisible at this time of night in his mottled grey and black cloak, and looks at them sniffing a deep breath. Then the stranger turns before they can say anything, and moves off into the darkness.
“The locals aren’t all as friendly as him,” Selm quips lightly, as he and his companion turn around to see the figure almost melt away into the shadows he had so suddenly appeared from. They continue the short walk to the Inn, which is well lit and welcoming. No sooner had Selm opened the well worn heavy oak door, and glanced into the building, giving off a sense of rustic homeliness, than a man and a woman step out into the doorway.
“Welcome,” says the man, taking Rhiannon by the hand and escorting her inside, “to the Ashabenford Arms,” finished the woman, doing the same to Selm. They step through the doorway and peer around, taking in the comfortable furnishings and tasteful decoration of the large foyer. The man, raven haired and well-groomed, introduces himself as Bandian, the petite blonde woman as Luana, and they explain that while the companions are guests in the inn, they will be their personal attendants.
A loud, cheerful voice interrupts this conversation and the foursome turn to see a rotund, red-faced man, immaculately dressed and holding several rolls of parchment in his hand, appear from a doorway behind the desk in the centre of the room. “Selm, my lad! It’s been many a season since you were last here, or so it seems, but you seem to be in rude health.” Selm opens his mouth to reply but can’t get a word in before the man continues. “But I haven’t introduced myself to your beautiful lady friend yet.” He drops the bundle on the desk and strides forward, kissing Rhiannon on the cheek. “Sarlon Hawkfinger at your service,” he says, bowing. “And this,” he gestures dramatically around the entrance hall, “is my pride and joy. At the Ashabenford Arms, we try to cater for your every whim, so should you need something, don’t hesitate to ask Bandian, or failing that, me – particularly given how lovely you are. Though there’s a higher chance of me selling the place to Zhentil Keep than there is of Bandian failing you – he’s one of our best, aren’t ye, lad?” Bandian’s cheeks go slightly rosy at the compliment and he replies with a gracious “thank you.”
“Splendid, splendid! Anyway, it’s Bandian for you, and Luana for Selm.”
“Actually,” interrupts Selm, “I was going to ask about the possibility of having a different host. Meaning you no disrespect, Luana,” he says, turning to face her, “but I was admirably attended by an elf by the name of Issinofil on my last visit and I was rather hoping she was still working here.” He reaches into his pocket, and takes out a gold piece, which he gives to Luana.
“But of course! Selm’s an old customer,” he says by way of explanation to the girl, who curtsies and moves away to climb one of the grand staircases at the far end of the room. “Won’t be a moment,” he says, marching pompously back out through the door he had initially come through. He returns, a minute or so later with a beautiful elf, long dark hair tied neatly back in an ornate braid, green eyes sparkling with a hint of playfulness.
“Master Fletwaral.” She curtsies. “It’s been far too long since your last stay, you should have come back to see me sooner.”
“I’m sorry, Issinofil, as much as I love your company, life does have a habit of getting in the way,” replies Selm, playing along.
“Anyway,” says Hawkfinger, picking up one the scrolls that had rolled off the desk. “I’ll leave you to it, have a pleasant stay. If you’re hungry, the kitchen operates all day and all night if necessary.” He bows again, then busies about at the desk.
Bandian puts his arm through that of the half-elf, and offers “Shall we?” Rhiannon looks nervously to Selm, who smiles warmly and nods, saying, “I’ll come and call for you soon, okay?” The two then disappear up the flight of stairs at the other end of the hall.
Issinofil and Selm continue to stand in the hall, simply staring into each other’s eyes, her big green ones into his caring blue-grey ones, until the elf, the ghost of a smile crossing her face, puts her arm through his and politely enquires, “Shall we?”
Grinning, Selm replies with a quick “Why not?” and the couple move to follow the other pair up the stairs.
They continue up to the second floor, neither feeling the urge to say anything until Issinofil opens a door and ushers Selm inside. “For the duration of your stay, Selmwell, this will be your room. I hope it’s to your liking.” Wincing at the use of his full name, Selm walks in and she closes the door behind them.
“Just this once, seeing as I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you off. And besides, it’s been a while since anyone called me that, other than Valanwé getting himself in a muddle.”
“Valanwé?”
“Ah, of course,” says Selm, realising he has so much to say, that it’s been such a long time since he last saw his beloved. “Valanwé is a current travelling companion of mine, a sun elf of remarkable intelligence from Evermeet, but not so wise to the ways of Faerûn as yet. I have been with him, and a few others, for the past couple of tendays.” He stops, not wanting to go into the story yet, and just goes and throws his arms round Issinofil, picking her up and spinning her round, before setting her down lightly again and continuing to squeeze her tightly. As amazed as ever by her grace and delicate beauty, he smothers himself in her thick black hair and her sweet smell. She guides him over to the bed and the two of them simply lay there like that for a while.
“Glad homeagain,” she says, after a while.
“Mmm,” he agrees, “it certainly is. Have you decided to acknowledge you know me outside of your work yet?”
“Well,” she says, sitting up and putting on a mock pout, “one must keep up an air of professionalism, don’t you know?”
“Must one? I see Sarlon’s taught you well.”
“He has indeed, and it’s been surprisingly pleasant working here. I may even consider it full time,” she says, “it’s a veritable gold mine of information. But seriously, Selm, what’s up, sweetheart? I can see something’s troubling you. And I’m guessing,” she continues, smiling sweetly, “that it might just have something to do with that hideous ring you’ve acquired that I seem incapable of removing.”
Sitting up, and readjusting his tunic, Selm looks at Issinofil in slight surprise, having not even noticed her attempt to remove the ring. “Aye,” he says slowly, “that it has. You remember my last message told you about helping Tharven and Dessa deal with the Talassans that had been stirring up trouble near Hap?”
She nods, indicating for him to continue and slips her arm round him.
“Well, from there I ended up meeting with my current companions – Valanwé, Daleson and Caylith, as well as Elussien and Traehærn, both of whom I hope are now safely with their Gods, and set out from the temple of Lathander, charged with the recovery of a holy relic.” He then recounts the group’s story, the fights, the recovery of the Blood of Lathander, the meeting of Rhiannon and Bach, right up to the encounter with the dragon. “It is here,” he says, “that our current problem began. Can you pass me a sheet of parchment and a quill, please?”
She gets up and fetches writing equipment from one of the drawers of the small desk in the corner of the room.
“You’ll have to bear with me for a couple of minutes, I need to write this down, you’ll understand why shortly.” Issinofil sits back down, looking slightly worried as Selm starts scribbling furiously. Once he finishes, he passes the note to Issinofil, who, taking her arm out from around Selm again, takes it from him and reads it carefully. After sitting pensively for a while, she reads it again to fully digest the situation.
“So,” she says slowly, “you can’t talk about what happened?”
Selm shakes his head.
“How awful. Thank Corellon you spotted the loophole in the spell, otherwise I dread to think what would happen. You say you know it’s a geas?”
He nods.
“And that you think the rings will come off with the removal of the spell?”
He nods again, then beckons for the parchment. She gives it to him and he hastily writes ‘I believe so, by Eldath I certainly hope so.’ Reading it, she nods. “I thinks” she says, that it might be time for me to call in on Syluné, see how she fares these days.”
“Syluné?”
“You know,” she smiles, “my old friend, you have met her before, remember? Stunningly beautiful, silver hair, rather see through. I don’t think you could forget her easily.”
“Alright, I remember, you know that wasn’t what I meant. You think she’d come and do all this just for us?”
“She will come because I ask her, because that’s the sort of wonderful person that she is. And don’t you worry,” she adds, squeezing his hand, “we’ll get everything sorted out, you’ll see. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I’ll go and see her right now.”
“Sure.”
With that, the elf disappears out of the room.
On his own, Selm fiddles unconsciously with the ring, before getting up and having a look round the warm room that he is in. Much like the rest of the inn, it is comfortable, tasteful and welcoming. He stands up and paces up and down a bit, his heart is so glad to see Issinofil again but for the first time he starts to truly worry abut the ring and the curse, now he is under no pressure to keep a cool head. Standing by the window, he stares out into the cool night air, praying to his Goddess for guidance and wisdom.
A quiet knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts. “It’s open.”
Issinofil slides gracefully back in and moves over to him by the window. He puts his arm around her.
“It’s going to be fine, Syluné seemed most concerned, the poor dear. In the morning, we’ll go for a walk along the river to somewhere a bit more secluded and she’ll come and sort everything out. She knows what she’s up against with the geas but she insisted on having a look at the ring now.”
No sooner had she said that, than a soft female voice intoned, “Selm, it’s good to see you again, are you okay?”
Turning round, the human and the elf see the figure of a tall, stunningly beautiful woman appear floating in mid-air, a look of genuine concern on her face.
“Syluné,” Selm smiles, bowing respectfully to the spectral Harpist. “I’m in good health, am glad to see my ’Fil again, and am glad to see you too. Aside from the situation Issinofil described to you, I’m fine. How are you keeping?”
“Oh fine, fine. But it’s you I’m concerned about, dear. Now let me have a look at that ring…”
Selm steps forward and offers his hand.
“Hmm,” she says after a minute. “Issinofil, be a dear and cast a spell of identification for me – sadly, I’m no longer capable of casting in such a fashion.”
Stepping forward, the elf reaches out to touch the ring, and utters the incantation. “The ring is cursed,” she says after a few seconds’ reflection. “You cannot remove it without magic and it has a spell employed on it to constantly repair itself.”
“That would be why Valanwé’s attempts to break it failed then,” interjects Selm.
“That’s a relief, I had initially feared it was something far worse” says Syluné. I’m sure I’ll be able to get these off. And your companions are all in the same situation?”
Selm nods.
Syluné sighs. “Thank Mystra I’m able to help you, we can’t have the Cult meddling in the business of the Dales again, can we? Do you know what you’re going to do about it?” The three of them exchange looks.
“No, not yet,” admits Selm. “Dealing with the issue at hand seems more prudent, until then we can’t do anything else anyway.”
“Very wise. Well, I’ll pass word around to Storm, I’m sure she’ll be glad of the news. I can hear her now: “Just what we need, what with the Zhents supposedly on the move again.” But we’ll sort this business out, have no fear.” She puts a ghostly hand on Selm’s shoulder, and he feels a strange, initially cold but quickly more comforting, feeling. “Get some rest, and I’ll come and see you and your friends in the morning. It’s good to see you again Selm, and you, Issinofil. It’s been too long, we have much to catch up on, and I’m always happy to listen, you don’t always have to have a reason to call in on me, you know.”
“You’re right, it’s my fault,” says Issinofil. “Bye, Syluné, see you in the morning.”
“Goodbye, my dears. Try not to worry too much.” With that, she casts a spell and vanishes.
“Hanali bless her, I love that woman,” says Issinofil softly. “I’ll be glad when we sort it all out in the morning.”
“Aye, me too, me too,” says Selm, comfortingly. “Anyway, it’s high time I had something to eat, I’m famished and I promised Rhiannon I’d see her again and let her know what was happening.”
“In that case, we’d better go find her then,” says Issinofil, proffering her arm. Slipping his arm through hers, Selm follows her out of the room, locks it behind him, and the couple walk down the corridor to Rhiannon’s room.
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Edited by - Kaladorm on 13 Jan 2006 00:36:45 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 12 Jan 2006 : 18:02:52
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Waking the next morning, at some time around the hour of six, Valanwé sits up slowly in bed, rubs his eyes, and yawns, whilst looking round the room. Seeing that the rest of the party are still slumbering, he gets out of bed, as quietly as he can, and moves to the desk in the corner of the room, and opens his spellbooks. Drawing in breath sharply, as the chair he sits down on creaks, he settles, hoping not to have disturbed the others, and begins to go through the motions of spell preparation.
About an hour later, as the sun is rising, he rises from the desk, and after listening for a few moments to several rather telling comments coming from Daleson in his sleep, smiles to himself, and exits the secret room into the main part of the Inn above.
Walking along the corridor to the main room, he hears people stirring in their rooms. Smiling as he passes a tall woman with black hair leaving her room, Valanwé continues to the main room. At the bar Holfast is cleaning a glass. Already a couple of bleary eyed patrons have sat down and are chatting in that quiet hush that dawn seems to bring on, as they wait for a hearty breakfast to arrive.
With a courteous nod to Holfast, and another to the patrons waiting, Valanwé decides to depart, and eat later when the rest of the party is awake. Stepping out of the front entrance, he pauses, raises his hood and takes in the view of the village on the other side of the river to get his bearings, and then heads briskly over the ford, and into the main street of the town.
Slowing down after he has crossed, he ambles slowly along the main street, and sees a young girl strolling eastward along the main street. She passes Multhimmer who she gives a cheery wave to, and recieves one in return as he sets up his wares for a days trading at the post.
"Excuse me, good lady," he says in moderate, pleasant tone as she passes close-by. "Perchance you could assist me?"
The young girl stops, and cocks her head to one side as she peers into the hood of the speaker. "Mayhap I can, depending on what you would be wanting assistance for?"
"I seek a merchant of the alchemical trade," replies the Elf. "Is there one such as this nearby?"
The girl giggles. "You should talk to Almaes. I don't know what alcy....alker...." she blushes, "but thats what everyone calls him, Almaes the Alkermoodle!.. I think. I have to go now, else Lhuin will poke me with his needles for being late. Bye bye nice man!"
With that she waves behind her shoulder as she skips off eastward towards the leatherworkers.
The streets begin to fill up as the day becomes brighter, and soon the still dawn is alive with chatter and movement. Multhimmer holds various wares and objects up to the people that come and go, exhanging, buying, and selling in a whirlwind of items and coins
Realising that the girl had left without giving him anything more than a name, Valanwé turns to his right, and approaches the merchant to whom the girl had waved previously. "Excuse me," he says. "Perhaps you could help me? I seek Almaes, the Alchemist."
"My thats a fine robe, care to trade it for this lovely silk vest? Direct from the traders of Calimport. No? then maybe I can interest you in this lovely kettle, at only six silver - a bargain not to be missed! See the fine craftsmanship in this handle, and the inscription on the side. Rescued from a dragons hoard this was, and only five silver for a good honest gent like yerself...."
"I thank you, no," replies Valanwé, kindly, but firmly. "I merely seek information."
"Information? Why the rarest commodity of them all. Hard to put a price on that it is indeed, but I'm sure I have something in my preverbial packs that can fit your preverbial pockets!"
"A gold piece for the whereabouts of Almaes the Alchemist," says Valanwé flatly, making it as clear as possible that he was in no mood for games.
"Indeed." The merchant seems to sober quickly, keen not to look overimpressed. He points westward. "Take a right up there, then its on your left, fifth building along."
"I thank you," says Valanwé, placing a gold piece into the man's hand (with his left hand). "For your trouble, sir."
Seeing a textile merchant up ahead, Valanwé approaches, with his right hand held within his robes. Retrieving a handful of silver pieces from his purse, he approaches the seller, and waits for his attention.
"What can I do for one of the elfin today?" he asks softly.
"Good morrow to thee sir," says Valanwé. "I merely require a long strip of cloth, perhaps three feet long, and three inches wide. It need not be of any special colour - I wish to make a repair to my undergarments, but I have not the means in my posession to do so."
"Well, for you sir I'm sure I can find something," he strolls to the back of the shop which is covered with hanging materials, "ah! this should do it," with which he hands Valanwé a strip roughly the correct size, and in a dusty red colour. Upon offering him the silver, the man waves away Valanwé's hand, "not at all my friend, just don't be telling everyone I give some of my offcuts for free, else they'll all want some," he smiles broadly and his eyes beam from beneath his long chestnut hair.
"I am most thankful," says Valanwé cheerily, but sincerely. "I am much obliged. I bid you good day, sir." With a nod of appreciation he turns, placing the cloth in a tight roll in his left pocket and wanders down the street westward, back toward the merchant he had paid for the information.
Turning southwards, past that store, he heads into the housing district, and towards a small clump of trees, out of view of the people he had spoken to. Sitting, breifly, under the trees, he watches and waits until no-one is nearby, and pulls out the cloth, wrapping it quickly round his right hand to cover the ring The Cult had forced on him, as though it were bandaging a wound. He ties it up tightly, leaving only his fingers and his lower palm in view, and then gets up, and returns to the main street. As he crosses it, he conceals his right hand in his robes once more, and removes it once out of sight as he passes up the side street, following the directions the merchant had given him.
As he enters the shop, Valanwé sees a gnome standing behind a low desk and waving a short stick about the size of a wand.
"Oh hello there, my you're a tall one!" exclaims the gnome.
"Aye, sir, I may be," replies Valanwé with a hearty chuckle. "A good morning to you. I am led to believe that you are the man known as Almaes?"
"Almaestaddamir Auldcastle at your service!", the gnome bows and waves his arm with a flourish, accidentally flinging the sunrod from his hand and igniting a small pile of smokepowder in the corner of the room. Clearing his throat and picking another sunrod from behind the desk, he then straightens his clothing. "Yes, well, plenty of smokepowder in here, did you know I've offered Haresk some of it as part of my machine? Quite ingenious you know, and a real surprise for troublemakers, but he doesn't seem too interested, hmmph." Almaes stares off towards an upper corner of the room and begins muttering.
With something of a formal bow of acknowledgement, Valanwé says: "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Almaestaddamir Auldcastle. I am known by many names amongst my people, but I present myself to you as Aramil Ilphukiir, son of Quarion of Evereska."
"And what can I do for you today Aramil? I'm a busy man you know, smokepowder kegs don't fling themselves, lots to do, lots to do!"
"I am a practitioner of The Art," replies Valanwé, "and travel the Dales in my own right. I should be very pleased to view some of your stock with a view to making a purchase, and I should like to ask you also if it is possible to obtain spell scrolls in this town, either from yourself, or elsewhere?"
"Of course, of course, everything is on display here," he waves vaugely to the shelves with various bags, bottles and vials on them, "just let me know what you'd like".
"Would you tell me what prices you are offering, on the scrolls of Darkvision, Command Undead, Flaming Sphere and Shocking Grasp?" asks Valanwé politely, having looked briefly about the shop.
Hearing the prices for each of the scrolls he mentioned, Valanwé ponders for a second, and decides what to buy: "I'll take each of the scrolls I mentioned before," he says, finally, and begins to count out the right amount.
When the transaction is complete, Valanwé reaches into his robe, and places all four scrolls into a deep inside pocket for safekeeping. He turns once again to Almaes, and bows again: "I thank you for your help this morning. It is much appreciated. I must be on my way now, but if ever I am in Ashabenford again, I shall do my best to put some more business in your direction. ' Bid you good day, Sir."
Leaving the shop, Valanwé again conceals his right hand within his pocket, and walks briskly back to the Inn. Seeing that no-one is around, he opens the secret room, and descends to see if the others are awake.
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Edited by - Kaladorm on 05 May 2006 18:56:45 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 17 Jan 2006 : 15:07:21
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As Caylith and Daleson awake, they find they are the only ones in the room. Shortly after awakening, Valawé returns to the room and moves to sit down at the table, barely controlling his excitement as he pulls a number of scrolls from inside his robes. Pausing only to remove the bandage around his hand, he then opens the scrolls and starts to study them. Taking out one of the scrolls he mutters a few words, then his eyes widen and he grins almost feverishly as he takes in the information. Studying the remaining scrolls, Valanwé piles them neatly on top of each other, except for one which he growls at in frustration. Glaring even harder to understand this particular scroll, Valanwé is oblivious to events around him as Bach, and eventualy Selm and Rhiannon return, accompanied by an unknown elf and a ghostly figure.
The others in the room stand, some recognising the figure before them through tales, some merely curious as to what is happening. Valanwé also stands when the magical energy in his fingertips crackles violently against his will. Staring in awe at the obvious magical power in front of him, the elf cannot bring his tongue to form any words. Instead he waits for Selm to explain. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 17 Jan 2006 : 17:20:05
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"Good morning," says Selm, hiding a smile. "And a better one it will be
soon, for, rest assured, we have worked out how to address our current
scenario." He gestures with hand to show his ring but, still careful of the
curse, does not make verbal mention of it. May I introduce, the lovely lady
Syluné of Shadowdale," he looks towards the ghostly figure, "and the equally
lovely Issinofil Rosefall."
"Well met, all of you," says Issinofil, looking around the group. Syluné
looks around the group, sizing them up, almost as if she can see into them,
the way they can see through her. She nods at each in turn, by way of
greeting. "Is everybody ready?" she asks? "Good, let us make our way outside
to somewhere more secluded. And I probably shouldn't have caused such an
entrance, either. I'm very sorry, my dears," she says, addressing the room at large. This is greeted with silence, though a few whispered
conversations begin as Syluné floats through the door outside. She whispers something to Issinofil and then dissapears from sight.
Taking that as the cue to leave, Selm takes Issinofil by the hand and looks
round to the others, an expression on his face that plainly says, "Coming?" |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 17 Jan 2006 : 21:22:23
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Bach shakes his head and smiles at his companions, not wondering for the first time if it was a good decision to join up with this band. With a shrug of his shoulders he smiles again and says "I will make sure we are not followed." He then cast a spell and fades from view.
Quite surprised by the Ghost's appearance but trusting Selm's knowledge, Caylith follows quietly. |
Edited by - Kaladorm on 18 Jan 2006 10:43:33 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 19 Jan 2006 : 20:08:56
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Issinofil turns and smiles at the party, slightly saddened but with resolution in her striking green eyes. "I know a quiet spot where we won't be disturbed, Syluné will meet us there," Issinofil pauses and sighs, "sadly she isn't trusted by those who don't know her in these parts of the dales."
She nods once, and indicates for everyone to gather their posessions. "It is a long walk, be ready for the road and anything we might encounter".
Rhiannon and Selm are ready to go, having stayed the night in an alternate inn, and Issinofil links arms with her lover and waits patiently.
When everyone is packed and ready to go, the elf beckons for the others to follow and leads the way out of the safehouse. Giving a nod to the innkeeper on the way out and leading the party westward out of town.
They pass through the main street, with Multhimmer still in full swing hawking his wares, and pass the many shops, including a building site on the north side opposite the horsewatering pool.
Selm chats with Issinofil on their way out, pleased to be back with his partner after his time away, and as the group pass he calls back to them "This is the new Temple of the Morninglord which is still under construction, I think they've been building since the beginning of the Year of Rogue Dragons" |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 23 Jan 2006 : 15:12:37
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As the party passes through the main street, Bach notices a rather worn woodsman watching the party. While not dirty, the black-haired man seems to have spent considerable times in the wild without shelter. Pausing to observe the observer, he sees a hand tap the woodsman on the shoulder, and a larger, grey hair and bearded man step around the corner. The first turns to talk to him, with a quick glance at the party’s back as they head down the street. Moving with the wind at his back, Bach moves closer to the pair to hear what they are saying.
“... certain? That’s not what he wants.”
“No,” the man facing him replies, and Bach realizes that he is not old, but appears prematurely grey. “But I am certain…” The man pauses, and sniffs, as if catching a scent. Almost as if he can see through the invisibility spell, the man looks intently at where Bach is standing, and frowns. “Enough. Let him know, and it will be taken care of.” As the dark-haired man moves back down the alleyway, the newcomer looks around again, sniffs at the slight breeze, and moves in an opposite direction – neither of which appears to follow the party. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 23 Jan 2006 : 20:17:58
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The sky clouds over during travel out of town, and by mid-morning a fine drizzle has begun to assault itself upon the party.
Issinofil encourages the party to keep travelling on, for they have to get to their destination by sundown, but the sodden ground and poor visibility makes travelling arduous. The spring shower doesn't stop the animals from going about their business however, and the occasional flight of birds overhead can be seen, or a wolf milling about on the edge of the forest a few miles away from the road.
Over the course of the day, an insidious pain works it's way through the companions, gnawing at their innards and making travel painful. The stronger among the party manage to accept the pain stoically, but others among them suffer more. Rhiannon, Selm and Valanwé are unable to stand the evil magic flowing through and around them. Selm is forced to lean on the parties guide, Issinofil, for support, whilst Valanwé appears unfocused as he staggers forwards.
The party pause for a short break at lunch. Just as they are about to set off again, Issinofil first notices a group of humanoids 100ft away, and unclear through the now driving rain. She urges the group to get ready. Rhiannon, suffering from the evil magic working against her, also feels extremely unwell, and had left the party at lunch, moving only a short distance away to vomit in the bushes by the roadside. In her sickened state, she barely notices the large wolf lying in wait. She responds just in time as the wolf lunges, so that it doesn't catch her completely off guard. An unseen archer takes advantage of the distraction and launches an arrow at the druid, which grazes across her thigh. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 23 Jan 2006 : 23:03:45
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The rain makes it hard to make out what is happening, as the group of humanoids are at the edge of vision of even the elf's keen eyes.
The presence of magic registers to the three spellcasters in the party, but none of them can tell what exactly is being cast at such a distance.
As Rhiannon moves away from the wolf attack and towards the safety of her party, so to does the group ahead move towards them.
The first figure to appear through the rain is a hulking troll. It's lank hair hanging limply down the side of its face as the rain streams off it's rubbery grey skin.
To it's right walk two elves, one clad in black robes, the other dressed in simple travelling clothed and carrying a staff.
To it's left walks a human, also clad in black robes, accompanied by another figure which jerks and spasms as it follows along.
Above the group approximately 40ft, floats another figure. This one is wearing a robe which billows in the wind of the storm, and the colours on it shift and swirl in scintillating patterns, catching the eye and luring the mind.
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 27 Jan 2006 : 22:45:31
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"I have the troll, everyone else take the ugly ones." Daleson smiles despite the pain. Trolls were something he was used to fighting.
"Someone bring down the flyer."
Caylith focuses her mental energy, grunting as the pain clutching at her insides lessens, and she moves forward, her sword leading the way, ready to engage the party in combat. Just to her right, a puddle of mud created by the rain begins to swirl and bubble. The puddle moves towards the main group and rises as it does so, before taking the form of a small well built humanoid. The rain runs off it and chunks of mud fly as it stomps across the short gap between itself and Selm, lunging for his knees. Caylith takes a mental note of the elf who appears to be commanding the little beast from the side of battle, marking him for death.
The creation lands a crushing blow as it barrels into him and Selm winces but manages to keep his composure. He takes a step back out of range of the little monster and goes through the motions of unravelling the spell holding the flying wizard airborne. With a little help from Eldath, the magic spell falls to pieces, and he floats down to the ground, robes still swirling with scintillating colours.
Moving to protect her lover, Issinofil stabs downwards at the creature. Her short sword slices into and through the creature, the moisture in it's body conducting the electricity from the sword. All around the metal of her weapon, the creature begins to bubble and melt, until it is indistuingishable from the sodden ground.
Valanwé sends a modified spell towards the group approaching them, and the soundball hits hard, the shockwave flinging the rain around it in all directions, making for an attractive but deadly display. A few manage to cover themselves from the blast but the flying wizard is at the centre of the blast, which has no qualms about swiftly ending his life. No sooner had Valanwé recoiled from flinging the ball of magic, than two arrows streak towards him from his right, both piercing him. The wounds aren't too serious and the elf begins to call to mind another spell, this one aimed at the archer who so wounded him.
The wolf follows his prey and lunges again at the druid, who manages to shield herself with an oversized turtle shell she conjures for protection.
Surprisingly, the troll stops in it's charge towards the party, and begins waving his hands in what seems to be the motions of a spell! Should one of the party have tried to call out a warning, they would have found themselves unable to make a single sound pass their lips.
Cursing as the words of the spell fall soundless from his mouth, Bach moves to what he percieves to be the edge of the spells area and starts his incantation anew. The sound issues forth from his mouth clearly, and from his outstretched hands flies a small orangey pea, which explodes in a huge conflagration in the centre of the opposing group. When the magical flames dissapear, their energy spent, the still corpses of a large number lie in place of what once were living, breathing, creatures. Interestingly in the place of the troll lies no troll corpse, but instead that of a human male dressed in a leather vest.
With his original target now missing, Daleson turns to valiantly protect his party members, chopping wildly at the wolf harrasing Rhiannon. He sings his smithy song as he does so, but again no sound is released from his lips. Nevertheless he sings on, landing two solid blows on the wolf, which would likely have caused it to whimper in pain had anyone been able to hear. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 30 Jan 2006 : 14:21:41
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Moving out to engage one of the few remaining offenders, Caylith picks up her pace and lands a vicious blow on the elven wizard that summoned the elemental. Her sword bites deep into his shoulder, and the magic of the sword crackles dark energy along it's blade, biting into Caylith's hands but biting deeper still into the chest of the elf, ending his life.
Battle rages silently inside the area of the spell, which lingers on after the spellcasters death, and Issinofil catches the wolf with the tip of her sword, running a line of blood down it's flank.
Valanwé and Selm move out to the edge of the area of the spell, and whilst Valanwé aims a spell at the archer, Selm sets about curing his wounds. Fully healed, the elf launches a spell at the archer. Observers would see a shapeless grey cloud forming in front of the archer, but the elf sees his innermost fears take shape. Reacting strongly to the images, the elven archer refuses to let himself give in to his fears, suffering through the exertion but more importantly still alive.
Focusing himself once again, he looses another two arrows at the spellcaster attacking him, and lands another two solid blows.
Without so much as a whisper to give away his position, a man wielding two daggers appears suddenly in the middle of the party, and stabs forward and upwards towards Rhiannon. The first hit drives deep into the back of her ribs, and she drops to the ground instantly. Not expecting such a quick fall, the human overextends his reach, and stumbles as his second dagger glances off the giant tortoise shell.
The wolf snaps it's jaws at Issinofil, and attempts to barrel into her, forcing her to the ground. The agile elf twists aside, and sustains only a small bite to her thigh. The paladin moves to intercept the attacked, and with a swing of his mighty axe, cleaves the animals head from it's torso.
Using the momentum from his previous swing, Daleson takes a short step forwards and lands another solid blow on the staggering rogue, whereupon Issinofil drives her sword point in afterwards, finishing the man off as silently as he appeared.
Following the two other spellcasters, Bach also moves out of the area of silence so he can better communicate with his companions. "Take one of them alive!" he orders, " I would very much like to know why people are attempting to kill us this time!". Then taking full advantage of his ability to speak, he utters the words of a spell to launch an arrow of acid straight at the remaining target.
Following the spellcasters order, Valanwé casts a spell which forces the elven archer to turn stiff and unmoving. He then closes the short gap between the two of them and holds a dagger to his enemies throat, as an extra measure should he manage to break out of the spell. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 02 Feb 2006 : 19:32:35
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As Valanwé guards the captive elf, his eyes smoldering as he holds a dagger to his throat, Caylith strips the prisoner of his weapons and begins to tie him up.
The rest of the party set about looting the corpses on the battlefield and gather everything up into a pile, so that Selm can detect which of the items are magical. Suitably satisfied with the pile, he leaves it temporarily as he moves over to inspect the captive with Issinofil at his side.
She tries to calm the prisoner using the power enchanted into her vest blessed by Hanali Celanil but the elf shrugs the spell off.
Flexing against his bindings the captive gives a feral snarl, and Bach tries to calm him with a spell of his own that unfortunately is also resisted by the angered male. Shrugging in resignation he returns to the main group to think of an alternative solution.
Double checking the corpses again, Selm manages to uncover a letter that was secreted in a pocket of the clothing worn by the human wielding the two daggers. Opening the note Selm furrows his brow in confusion, then mutters and swift prayer to Eldath and gives a smile. He scribbles onto a piece of paper handed him by Issinofil, and passes it around the group.
The note reads simply "Cultists are heading east from Ashabenford. Take care of them"
When the note reaches he, Caylith curses in frustration, "We have so been set up."
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 02 Feb 2006 : 22:20:22
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“It seems,” begins Selm, “you may well be right. We have many loose ends
that need tying up currently. My suggestion, provided everybody is healthy
enough to continue, is to advance to the meeting point with Syluné. Once we
address the problem at hand,” he gestures with his ring, “we can speak more
freely, and I feel this will be more use when we question our friend here.”
He nods towards the captive archer. “Caylith, please be careful, I have no
wish to see him hurt,” he adds, making sure the captive can clearly hear
him. “We wish you no further harm, and if you cooperate with us life will be
much easier for all. My Lady Eldath has granted me the ability to read your
note here,” he says, waving the note in the direction of the elf. “You will,
however, first accompany us, for the duration of our journey. We will see to
it that you are able to walk and breathe freely, even though we have no wish
to talk with you at this time, and that no discomfort is caused to you,” he
finishes, feeling unhappy about having to tie him up, but knowing he is
better alive than dead and the others would be in no mood to chance letting
him walk freely.
“Perhaps I may volunteer my services,” chimes in Valanwé. “I have a suitable
spell that will aid our friend’s transportation, it summons a floating disk
that can carry him. I find it unlikely he will be foolish enough to try and
escape.”
“That sounds like a good idea to me. Hopefully, he will see to judge us by
our actions, even if he doesn’t believe our words, that I, for one, find
this business distasteful.” Issinofil leans against Selm, giving him her
reassurance.
“Should someone gather up our findings?” asks Valanwé, gesturing to the
accumulated gold and gear.
“I can do that,” volunteers Issinofil, it will be easier to carry in my
bag,” she says, giving the other elf an exaggerated wink. “It would make
more sense to identify the nature of the items when we are back in
Ashabenford. Perhaps somebody would care to lend me a hand?”
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 03 Feb 2006 : 00:37:20
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"Aye my Lady," said Valanwé to Issinofil, ignoring the
wink and smiling pleasantly but speaking in a flat
monotonic voice. "It would be a pleasure to assist you
in stocking your recepticle."
He kneels down, close to the pile, leaving the captive
Elf in Caylith and Daleson's keep: "Allow me," he
offers, picking up a handfuls of assorted weaponary
and awaiting Issinofil's co-operation. "Come now -
draw it open it wide otherwise this longsword wont
fit..."
Entirely ignoring the rest of the group, and remaining
entirely expressionless, and quiet as he does this,
Valanwé gathers up all the armour and other items as
Issinofil holds her bag. Selm is also seen to be
muttering blackly in the background, as Valanwé makes
entirely innocent references to the 'quality of
leatherwork', 'hanging nicely' and 'pulling
difficulty' whilst his large but supple hands move the
armour, amulet and bows into the bag. Clearing the
rest of the items from the ground, with the exception
of the two quaterstaffs, he leans on them both for
support as he stands up, faces the Elf once more and
asks blankly: "Do you think we can get both of these
in there at once?"
Again, Issinofil opens the bag, and Valanwé drops the
wooden rods to a horizontal position, and pushes
forward slowly, stuffing them into the large
extradimensional space with only a little difficulty.
"Well then," he observes, maintaining his dull tones.
"I think that's a packing job well done..." |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 03 Feb 2006 : 10:22:18
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Waiting for Valanwé to stop his blatant innuendo, Issinofil remains quiet
while the two elves place the items into the bag, which miraculously appears
to be far larger inside that its outward appearance would suggest.
Upon finishing, she looks him squarely in the eye and asks, "Master Valanwé,
are you suggesting that I am a common lickhips? Because if you want to sleep
with me, at least have the decency to say it to my face, rather than making
such overtly sexual comments. Trust me, I know many tricks that would make a
young winker like you salivate over your spellbook." She tosses him a wink,
and then stands up, without waiting for Valanwé to reply.
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 03 Feb 2006 : 13:46:33
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About half an hour later, further down the road,
Valanwé lets out a shrill whistle from the back of the
party, causing the others to turn around and look, and
a flapping of wings is heard. Descending from
somewhere in the surounding trees, carrying a small
rabbit in his beak, Venterus appears above the party,
and flies down to Valanwé's outstreched arm.
"I see I have disturbed your lunch," muses Valanwé to
the eagle, in their shared language.
"Mmmpfhk aark mmmfaksss," replies the eagle, shaking
his head from side to side. Valanwé takes the rabbit
from the eagle's beak with his other hand, looks at it
briefly, and holds onto it, trying not to spill it's
blood on his robes.
"Thanks Master," says the eagle. "What did you need?"
"I suppose," mutters Valanwé, ignoring the question,
"that it isn't considered rudeness to talk with your
mouth full in Eagle society?"
"Not so much," squarks the bird.
Seeing Selm turn round to see what the
incomprehensible conversation is about, and then
return to his own with Issinofil, Valanwé issues a set
of instructions to the bird, promising to retain his
lunch until he returns. Placing the rabbit into the
top of his pack, he continues on, slowly accellerating
to the front of the group over a period of five
minutes or so, until he is walking close behind Selm
and Issinofil.
Seeing Venterus in the distance, he steps up beside
Issinofil, waits for a break in the conversation and
asks: "A moment of your time my Lady?" Hearing no
objection from Issinofil, he continues: "Madam, my
implication hence was not a wish to lay down with you.
Indeed, I would make no such presumptions. I was
unable, however, to discern the reason for your
'flutterings', and merely wished to escape the
awkwardness I felt in recieving them. To me, humour
seemed the best course."
At this point, Vanterus swoops down again, to
Valanwé's arm, with a tangible gust of wind from his
wings, carrying a flower in his beak. "By way of an
apology," says Valanwé humbly, taking the flower from
Venterus, and proffering it to her: "A dovewing
orchid: for friendship." |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 09 Feb 2006 : 10:49:29
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Issinofil chuckles as Valanwé hands her the flower, "Oh really Master Valanwé there was no need, my idle banter was spoken just as much in friendship as yours. I fear you have considered to have caused offence to that which, shall we say, was a return thrust of the same sword" she smiles then and pats him gently on the arm.
She continues after a pause, "Still, should you ever need to attempt to subtly display your wit again I'm sure you'll find Selm an excellent sparring partner", winking slyly at the elven wizard.
Some hours later, as darkness has begun to fall, the group reaches the apointed meeting spot. Back where they were only a few days ago at Swords Creek, they begin to make preparations to camp for the night.
A few hours before midnight, the etheral creature Syluné floats into view, as pointed out by Issinofil. She appraises the party and then moves a short distance around the campsite. The spectral harpist weaves a complex spell, and circles the camp many times during the ten minutes it takes, before finally settling down into the centre of the group.
"Now dears, unfortunately due to my, 'condition', I cannot remove this curse from you myself," she smiles ruefully, "short of a spell to rip the very magics asunder, which would be a terrible shame despite it's effects, and indeed unecessary.
"For I have prepared an item for Issinofil to use, it should allow both the removal of any obligations you are under, as well as the removal of those rings."
She marks an area on the ground with a small glowing circle, and opens her arms wide to signal for everyone to stand back. Speaking a single word, the circle collapses in on itself, then flashes outwards upon reaching the centre. The flare dies down and everyone blinks to get their eyes accustomed to the darkness again, now in place of the glowing circle lies a wooden stick about a foot long. The stick is carved from ashwood, and closer inspection reveals an etching along one side reading "Azshelea".
"Don't worry dears, there will be no one to see the little display," Syluné voices their concerns, "to anyone outside the area all that sits here is a handful of trees. You should be safe tonight, but be vigilant for any accidental wanderers nonetheless"
Reverently picking it up, Issinofil nods as she studied it and then approaches Selm. Placing the wand on his shoulder she speaks "Azshelea".
There is no visible effect, and Selm shrugs, his eyes narrowed in question, but Issinofil holds her hand out silently. He reaches down to the ring on his hand and pulls it off slowly. Free of the ring he places it in Issinofils hand, giving her a thankful nod, and leaves her to perform similarly on the others.
The process takes just over an hour, the wands strong magical energy needing some short time before it can be used again, and by that time night has falled heavily. Valanwé rubs his finger unconsciously where the ring used to sit, as if nursing a wound, and nods appreciatively at Syluné.
"Now, Issinofil told me you were attacked and have taken a prisoner? I recieved her message floating on the air currents just as I finished preparing the wand. Unfortunately I cannot tarry here any longer, events are unfolding in the north which I really must take care of, but I'm sure Issinofil will be able to assist you adequately in my stead," Issinofil gives the ghost a cheeky wink.
Syluné smiles back and speaks "Well dears, It pleases me to see the curses removed, and I see no trace of the geas any more. I'll leave you to your rest. Fare thee well, oh and Issinofil, do come and visit me more often"
With a wink to the female elf, and a word of power, the ghostly form dissapears from the camp.
Free of the curse Caylith speaks, "Now that we are free of the geas, perhaps the gentleman we are holding would be willing to explain his actions. We are not members of the cult (she says cult like it's a dirty word), yet someone seemed to think we were. I would think that in all honestly, our two groups would be on the same side."
"Aye," agrees Selm. "Perhaps somebody would be so kind as to ungag our new friend. I hope we shall now be able to find out who are assailants were, and why those chose to attack us in such a regretful manner."
Responding to a spell woven by Bach, the captive elf is compelled to answer his request: To truthfully disclose all information on why, and upon who's orders, he and his party attacked us.
"I was not told why, but I was under orders of the Zhent agent Daneth. He approached me in my home in the southern woods and asked me to help him track you down. He offered me in exchange trade supplies so that I would not have to journey into that wretched town."
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Edited by - Kaladorm on 09 Feb 2006 19:24:11 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 09 Feb 2006 : 11:05:36
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"Zhents? Does he mean the Zhentarim? What interest would a group of that size have in us?" Rhiannon queries of the others.
With a face like hewn stone Bach draws his blade. "I will deal with this." he says with an emotionless voice. In the same icy voice he continues, "We cannot allow this man to remain alive. Not only does he know too much about us, but how long will it be before another Zhent agent, or anyone else for that matter comes to call and the party he tracks down is not as fortunate as us. Besides, Bach nods indicating Valanwé, he has already drawn first blood."
Rhiannon steps between Bach and the prisoner.
"No Bach, we can not kill a helpless person. Thats what they do, we have to be better than them."
With relief and agitation playing accrost his face bach lowers, but does not sheath, his sword. Shaking his head Bach says, "I can see no other way."
Stepping between Bach and the prisoner, Valanwé raises a hand, and says: “Stay thine arm, friend; I would not have more blood unnecessarily spilt, and not that of an Elf. I have no allegiance to him bar that which I have to my people, but since returning from war, I have been saddened oft by the dreams of my fallen brothers who died at my hands. “ Valanwe sighs, and ponders: “It would be better that he is held, and receives such punishment as he deserves in time. It would seem that he is not, of himself, evil, but perhaps forced through necessity to enter into an alliance with the Zhentarim. He may have use to us yet – there are those with more powerful magics than we in the wider area – perhaps they may be able to assist us in gaining further information…"
Selm moves to stand next to Valanwé. "He's right, you know, Bach. Evil comes in many shades, even the best among us can do evil deeds from time to time, and Master Daleson can detect no aura of evil about him. I will not see his blood spilt, we cannot slaughter a helpless elf. We must try and teach him there are other ways of doing things, and Rhiannon is right to say we would sink to the level of the Zhents if we commit such an act. I suggest we continue to find out what we can about him - how he got involved with the Zhentarim in the first place, and what we can do to help him. Pray don't be so hasty."
Eyes wide and flinching away, the elf leans back as best as he can to escape the man with the blade in his hands.
"P..please good sir, do not slay me." his eyes reach up to Valanwé imploringly.
"Release me back into the wilds, like a tamed wolf I shall do no harm, save to protect the home I love."
Selm tries to alleviate the elf's panic with a calming expression. "Nobody here is going to hurt you, you have my word, by my Lady Eldath." He reaches down his tunic and pulls out the holy symbol hanging round his neck to show the elf. "You are from Cormanthor?" he asks gently. "How did you get involved with the Zhentarim?"
Bach sheaths his blade and goes to stand alone away from the group and the prisoner. Suitably calmed the elf continues to respond to Selm, "I am from the wilderness south of here. Please that's all I know, that Daneth was one of them. Sir, let me free" |
Edited by - Kaladorm on 13 Feb 2006 00:56:35 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 10 Feb 2006 : 17:28:41
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"Whereabouts, if you don't mind me asking? And you did not tell us how you got involved with the Zhentarim. If you help us by cooperating, we can do our best to offer you protection against them. I think you can understand why turning you free currently is unlikely to happen - we have our own safety to guarantee, and would like some answers to our questions. We mean you no harm."
The elf speaks again to Selm, "The part of the woods I call my home is between the Dark Road and the Yeven Trail, I was scouting the edge of the woods when I came across a strange pair of animals, heading eastward. I followed them for a while out of curiosity, and then saw the group which you've now killed. The leader, who introduced himself as Daneth, said that he was with the Zhents, and that they were trying to find a group heading east from Ashabenford. I had no real interest in who he was or whatever organisation they cared to label themselves, but he explained that you were a danger to this land, and opposed the peace coming to the region. They needed a skilled tracker, and I wanted you out of my land, the goods he offered would help me survive longer out here but my main interest was to prevent you causing any harm." |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 10 Feb 2006 : 22:58:51
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Selm nods thoughtfully at this revelation. "I thank you for being so
forthcoming. It is rude of me not to have asked your name, but should you
wish to withhold it, I understand given the circumstances. I am Selm of
Eldath. I hope you will not judge my companions and I too harshly, but I
would hope one as perceptive as yourself has realised we are no threat to
your home, indeed Rhiannon there is a follower of Mielikki, and obviously I
count two of the People amongst my companions here."
He crouches down beside the elf. "We have no interest in harming you or your
land, and never have done. I am now chiefly concerned with whether the
Zhents will still be able to find you again, because you may be in personal
danger if that is the case. Anything I can do to aid you in this matter, I
will try to do.
"I.....I had no idea. Forgive me. Truly a servant of Mielikki could not stand among you and willfuly allowthe descration of the place. My home and the lands around it I protect are precious to me, when I heard of your apparent intentions I had no choice.
"I know you are going back to Ashabenford. I know these lands, and can watch your path ahead, it's the least I can do."
"Oh and," he adds almost as an afterthough, "do not worry about the Zhents. They will not find me in my home if I do not wish them to" |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 11 Feb 2006 : 11:31:08
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Selm nods at this information, "In that case, you have our most humble apologies for keeping you held in this fashion. Is there anything we can do for you? I can tend your wounds,
if you will."
The elf smiles briefly, wincing slightly at the pain from his wounds, but shakes his head at Selm, "Really you have done enough by not slaying me, it seems we were both misinformed as to intentions this day. I will be well enough to guard your path and return to my home"
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 11 Feb 2006 : 12:43:14
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Selm frowns at this, but does not want to push the issue. Instead, he
reaches to his belt and pulls out a small vial containing a pale blue
liquid. "Take this with you, then," he says. "It will revive your health at
a time when you may need it more."
Speaking in Elven, Valanwé places a hand gently on the wild Elf's arm walks
a short distance away from the group with him. Beckoning Selm to bring the
Elf's equipment, he hands it to him, beginning with his armour, and ending
with his weapons. Seeing the Elf quickly dressed again, he says: "Go with
the winds my brother, with my regret for the conflict this day. May Corellon
watch over you, and shine a light on your path."
He stands for a moment, facing the Elf, and offers him the handle of the
sword, in a sign of respect, nods at him, and says in the common tongue:
"Fare the well, brother."
The elf responds in turn, using the common tongue. With a swift nod to the party, he darts off into the woods behind, to dissapear in the shadows of the forest |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 11 Feb 2006 : 13:38:26
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The elf responds in turn, using the common tongue. With a swift nod to the party, he darts off into the woods behind, to dissapear in the shadows of the forest.
The night passes silently, with the smooth running water of Swords Creek gently lulling everyone into a relaxing and pleasant night.
Packing up their belongings in the morning, the group start to head back to Ashabenford, and looking behind them, see a misty area of trees where they once stood. Marvelling at Syluné's work, Valanwé stares back at the trees, as if solving a puzzle. With a hand on his arm, Selm distracts the elf, whereupon he grins silently and turns to walk away with his travelling companion.
Towarsd the end of the journey as the party heads west back to Ashabenford, they are greeted to a beautiful violet sky , an effect caused by the setting sun at the end of the day. The sky dims and darkens as time goes on, and it is late dusk when Issinofil calls a halt to the walk.
Roughly 100 yards from the edge of the path, stands a massive bear. The waning light casts an eerie shadow over it, making it appear almost demonic as it stands on it's hind legs at over 12 feet tall. Before the creature falls back down to all fours, it reveals a bloody mess of a horse sized shape beneath it. It then steps forward, eyeing the party, and sets itself into a sturdy position just in front of it's prize, releasing a low growl that carries loudly. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 12 Feb 2006 : 11:13:37
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| Seeing the crazed bear, Daleson asks, "Good elves, I do not wish to be known as an animal killer, I am alreay Wolfsbane after our last encounter, so does someone wish to handle this?" |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 12 Feb 2006 : 22:42:07
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After noticeing her spell worked, Rhiannon gives a smile and a nod to the others to let them know to calm down.
Rhiannon walks up to the Bear and strokes it.
Noticeing its maner suggests its protecting something, Rhiannon makes another short prayer to the forest queen and casts Speak with Animals on herself.
After casting the spell, Rhiannon knells down beside the bear and talks softly to it
"Hi there, I was wondering what it is you were defending"
The bear growls softly and pads the earth with it's massive paw before answering the druid.
"This is my food. I found it first. Do not let them near it. It is mine"
Rhiannon nods slowly and strokes the bear behind the ears
"Yes, I will respect your right to your food, I promise no one in this group is intrested in taking from you, How much of the forest is yours? Do you know anything of the group of humans that attacked me and my pack a short while ago?"
The bear nods in thanks to Rhiannons assurances, and lets out what the druid hears as a chuckle, the rest would hear as a startling roar, "These woods are mine wherever I please. But I prefer to home not far from here"
"I know nothing of this one pack that fought your pack. There is one from a man-pack here, but he not mine. He have scent of you and your pack. He also have scent of fox kill. He not mine"
Rhiannon responds "Thank you for helping me, I'll leave you to enjoy your food now, but before I go are there any other predators in this forest we should watch out for?"
The bear looks at Rhiannon in slight confusion as it appears to work something out. It is almost a full minute before he answers, "There is wolf scent. And fox scent. But it is not right scent. Not real wolf. Not real fox"
Rhiannon looks concerned she looks back at the others then turns to the bear "Not real wolves and foxes? Have you ever seen them? Can they turn into humans or weird creatures that look like a cross between a human and a animal?"
"I not see them. Only smell them. This dead one of man-pack have scent of wolf and scent of fox," the bear pants a little as it strings such a long sentence together. "It not mine," it adds finally.
"Ok, thank you" Rhiannon says softly, she reaches into a pocket on her belt and takes out a small treat which she offers to the bear "I'll leave you to enjoy your food now".
The bear accepts the treat, and moves forward to nuzzle Rhiannon (unfortunately knocking her down gently from her kneeling position with it's huge bulk), and turns to consult its meal again.
Rhiannon pulls herself to her feet, smileing at the bear as he goes back to his meal, then spots a humanoid figure, she looks over at the bear and then goes over to try and see what or who it was.
Rhiannon examines the corpse for a few moments and then stands up and staggers back in shock, it's the Elf they realeased so recently.
The corpse is an elven male, with his throat completely torn out. It carries many smaller cuts and lesions. The body has been beaten badly as well as these cuts, and there are bruises over the delicate frame. Upon wiping away some of the gore around the upper chest and facial area, Rhiannon gasps as she recognises the elf they recently set free.
She immediatly looks back at Valanwé suspecting that he would take it the worst. She slowly walks over to the group to report the bad news |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 13 Feb 2006 : 01:42:18
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All through the interchange, Caylith looks slightly confused. She shrugs and smiles when she sees the bear become more friendly.
After recieving the news frown appears on Bach's face and he looks around at the group thoughtfully.
"I suggest that if the town is still a good distance off that we should find a defensible position and set up camp. I do not believe tonight is a good night for a moon lit stroll."
Issinofil speaks coldly and quietly, shaken by the news of the dead elf, "We are a few hours from Ashabenford. We can make it before night settles in too far. Let us hear what Rhiannon has to say |
Edited by - Kaladorm on 13 Feb 2006 01:59:09 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 13 Feb 2006 : 11:12:02
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Looking quite worried, Rhiannon slowly walks towards the party, she stutters somewhat as she speaks "I..I spoke to the bear, unfortunately he doesn't know anything about the group that attacked us." She looks at Valanwé "I'm afraid the elf we realeased the other day has died, his body is near to the bear. The bear didn't kill him, but says that something that smells like a wolf or a fox but that isn't a wolf or a fox killed him."
"Hmm," says Selm, a look of concern on his face, as well as the grief at seeing the death of an innocent that he has never quite got used, and hopes never to.
Valanwé stands calmly, and lets out a long sigh: "It is the natural order, I suppose," he muses, to no-one in particular, as his hands glow a deep purple and his eyes lose their colour, so that his pupils are large, and black. He moves to the side of the path, and sits silently, thinking on the elves departure.
Rhiannon looks thoughtfully at Valanwé as he walks away. She then says softly "From the description the bear gave, I suspect we are dealing with Malar, sorry I mean Lycanthropes."
"I suppose it is possible, yes. We do seem to be popular," Selm remarks drolly. "What can we do for our elf friend? We ought to bury him really."
"And how many more of my kin must we bury on this quest?" mutters Valanwé, under his breath, unheard by the party.
Rhiannon looks back at the elves body, then she turns to Selm "We might also be being hunted right now" she says quiety.
"It is a possibility. I suggest that we camp as Bach suggested, as it's getting late, but double the watch and if we have any additional defences, it might be worth employing them." "Plus," continues Selm, "does anybody have any silver on them, should there be lycanthropes about?"
"We'll need to move out of my friend heres patch before my charm spell wares off, so we need to move at least a little. And I agree with Issinofil, I think we could make it to town if we hurry." Rhiannon says, now started to show some fear in her voice.
"I would also rather get back. If we can get back, then I am certainly in favour of doing so. Is everybody fit and well enough to continue? How are you on spells?" he asks, looking at the casters in the party.
Standing up, and approaching the group once more, Valanwé offers: "I prepared the spell to conjure the cottage you have seen formerly available if we decide to stay. There is warmth there, and it will make a good defensible position if there are such creatures around as those Rhiannon fears. I would not have any of us out this night, for fear of meeting my kinsman's fate."
"I would rather not fight at all, and I would rather keep on the move than stay here. I feel we would be less easily found that way. Also, I fear for the townsfolk, should there be beasts on the prowl."
Rhiannon hugs her cloak around her tightly "Any creatures hunting us could probably track us with ease, so our only hope would be in outrunning them, or staying here until daybreak,"
"Neither prospect particularly appeals, to be honest."
"Then if we go let us go quickly," says Valanwé, deferring to Selm's experience. "I will have Venterus keep watch over our path. If we tarry, then we must decide before darkness falls - it will take time to bring forth an encampment."
"I ask again, does anybody have any silver? I have a dagger, and am willing to lend it to anyone, who will probably wield it with far more skill, and far less worry, than I would."
"In the cottage we would have fire, and locked doors - silver could be melted there," offers Valanwé.
"And yet, by staying, we leave ourselves far more open to the chance of an encounter. While there is no harm in being prepared, there is no guarantee we will meet anybody."
"Rhiannon - could you shapechange into such a creature as one that could carry us above the ground, and stand a good chance of defense against a lycanthrope?" asks Valanwé.
Rhiannon shakes her head sadly "I'm afraid I can't turn into animals of that size yet"
"No matter," replies Valanwé. "There ought to be some way I can help...." he muses.
"I would rather avoid combat altogether, by standing our ground, no matter how well defended, I feel there is more chance of that.
"The question we must ask ourselves is that do we protect the town better by being there to defend it or by keeping away from it?" Bach ask wryly. |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 15 Feb 2006 : 11:56:16
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Rhiannon looks up nervously at the sky
"We might as well just stay here for the night, it will be to late to get to town before we've decided wether to go or not!"
Issinofil follows Rhiannons gaze to the sky, now turning a deep blue as night closes in. "I would prefer to be back in the town as soon as possible. However if master Valanwé can conjure us a secure shelter, and it is the party's wishes, then it seems to be the safest option" |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 17 Feb 2006 : 14:15:33
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"I suppose so," says Selm, grudgingly. "Out of interest, how many days have
we left before our rendezvous with the Cult? Can somebody remind me what the
date is? So much has happened, I've lost track. We should start making
preparations for the meeting, too."
"Today would be the 24th Mirtul," answers Issinofil. "You said you came straight to Ashabenford the day you came to at Swords Creek, and the note you gave me said four days. So I guess that would be tomorrow"
"Hmm," muses Selm. "So do we have time to stay here and still make it back
for the meeting? Not to mention we have to form some kind of plan of action,
though I would guess that would mostly involve listening and observing. We
also ought to pay a visit to the temple of Lathander too." |
Edited by - Kaladorm on 17 Feb 2006 14:56:08 |
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Kaladorm
Master of Realmslore
United Kingdom
1176 Posts |
Posted - 17 Feb 2006 : 18:05:07
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"We push on until we need to set our defenses. How long to construct the shelter, Valanwé?"
Daleson prompts everyone to action, and gets them moving, if at least to put the bear behind them so as to not incite the gigantic beast.
“Ten minutes at most,” replies the Wizard. “But I must be basically stationary to cast such a long spell. I suggest we use the first clearing we find.”
As Valanwé busies himself with the construction of the house, a single long wolf-howl echoes across the road from the north-west, carrying in the way that only twilight can carry night-sounds. |
Edited by - Kaladorm on 21 Feb 2006 16:12:48 |
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Kaladorm's Campaign Journal
