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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on May 24, 2018 11:53:21 GMT -5
Muffled waves of laughter, and the mixed smell of pipe smoke and ale slips in under the door that leads into to the third room of the Shepard's Book. A small little known Inn in the bustling city of Waterdeep that boasts a quiet atmosphere and simple accommodations but also houses an organization as old as the written word. One such member of that organization sits cross legged on his provided bed in a Trance like state, allowing his mind to be swallowed up in thought. Elves, don't need sleep like humans do. Nor like dwarves or many other races, it is a race that is long lived and well rested with only 4 hours of being in a Trance. A useful trait when your entire life is study and research or so Ja'lian Moonscroll muses to himself as he's swimming among his tattered mind. He counts himself lucky being born as an Elf, a hundred years was just enough time to read every single scrap note and loose leaf in his hometown. Including a spellbook he found tucked away among the many tomes in the old library where he worked and all but lived. With a deep seeded love of the stories of brave adventurer's using their wit and guile to defeat immense odds. Ja'lian found himself hopped on the first Merchant cart out of town and headed to Greenest where his adventure would start! Sigh... The pale elf rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration of all the memories that flood back after Greenest. "Hoot hoo" Comes an Owl's cry from his window where a oddly colored Barn owl sits staring at the elf. "Yes, Tsuki, you are... correct. Happy thoughts" He nods his head and combs a stray curly bang from his eyes with his hand. He brings his hands down and with a quick murmur of Arcane words that cause a greasy substance to appear on his hands and he slicks back his jet black curled locks with it before reaching for his circle frame blue tinted glasses and fitting them over his eyes. Acquiring his studded leather britches and white button up shirt with ink stains on the sleeves he throws them on along with his leather studded vest and slips into his shoes and then finally his fur lined coat. The only article of clothing he owns with a design on the bottom of it depicting black silhouettes of humanoids choking in a red mist. Save for his coat and studded leathers he's the picture of a librarian, though his current occupation is nothing so simple. After grabbing his messenger bag and a bottle of grey slime off the mantle he takes one last look about the room as he runs his hands up and down his various pockets to see if he forgot anything. "Well, then. Off we go" He says aloud and as he turns to leave Tsuki comes flying off the window sill and takes her place on his shoulder. With his nose firmly buried in a book (Currently the Trials Of King Uth) Ja'lian seems an odd sight, nimbly dodging passersby without ever looking up or loosing his place in the book. A slight pain in his shoulder on the far most left side informs him to make a sharp left turn now and he does, side stepping from the urchin that would've bumped into him and probably lightened his purse. To the north a cart owner hollers warnings as his cart descends down the hill. Two talons digging into his back tell him to stop so Ja'lain waits for it to go speeding passed and goes on his way. Certainly deserves to be called trials, King Uth had it hard. He muses to himself. "Hoot hoo" Tsuki chimes, pulling Ja'lian from his book to look around and find himself at the massive city gate at the edge of Waterdeep. "Ah, we're here" the elf says with a satisfied smile. "Well done, as always, Tsuki" he says and scratches the owl under her chin. After walking outside the city for an hour Ja'lian pulls two staves each about 6 feet tall from his messenger bag and muses to himself how he ever traveled without a Bag Of Holding. One staff is of light yellow wood and covered in markings from end to end. It appears to be in the shape of a constrictor snake with an intelligent gleam in its eyes and a pearl set in its tongue. That one he sets on his back. "Sorry, old friend, the city is no place for you" He says to the staff and pats its head. The second staff is metal and has glowing arcane markings along its length. One end is pointed and the other end is shaped like three distorted diamonds sat atop one another. This staff makes Ja'lian uncomfortable. Is resonates with an otherworldly power and appears to move every time he sees it at the corner of his eye. He sighs and withdraws a whistle from his bag and blows into it. A loud shriek is heard from the metal tube and after a few moments a shadow appears over the Elf. A giant scaled creature descends from the sky and lands before him. The creature being 15 feet long and the size of covered wagon with the head of a dragon and wings like a bat that it walks on along with its two legs. The two foot barbed stinger that sits on the end of its tail dispenses a poison able to drop 6 average men with ease. Its jaws and talons impact with enough force to kill most humanoids without much effort. This terror of the skies, this cousin to the mighty True Dragons bows its head to the thin pale elf. "Hello Sigi" Ja'lian greets the creature, holding his hand out. To which the Wyvern responds by nudging its nose against his hand and parts its lips in a terrifying gaped tooth smile. " Sivmir" Ja'lian praises the creature in Draconic, the only language it recognizes. After a few moments of attention the elf clicks his tongue and the wyvern lowers its head so that he can saddle the creature. Pulling his saddle from the Bag Of Holding it takes a little effort cause of its awkward shape but soon Sigi is saddled and Ja'lian sits atop him with his staff across the pommel. " Achvish!" Ja'lian says in a commanding tone and the wyvern takes to the skies. They'll follow the road north toward the next curiosity; A True Dragon who lets a human ride it.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Jun 3, 2018 6:25:36 GMT -5
Your thoughts drift briefly to the road ahead, the pedestrian thoughts of logistics. Necessary though they might be, there is no secrets in how many miles between two known points. No forbidden knowledge in how many rations one must carry to travel such a distance. Boring, but necessary. You sigh and look at the horizon, toward Red Larch some fifty miles distant. It will take the better part of today to reach there, but at least you will sleep in a bed tonight. Turning your thoughts to what you know of Red Larch, you read your memories like the pages of a book: "The town of Red Larch was a way stop on the Long Road seven days north of Waterdeep" If you travel by foot along the road, instead of going straight across the land as the Wyvern flies your mind adds automatically, "and is located at the intersection of three trails. One trail leads South-East to the Bargewright Inn, another West to Kheldell." again your mind interjects to supply supplementary information, "Kheldell is a thorp, and a logging community. It used to sit on the western edge of the Kryptgarden forest, but over time that forest has been split in half. Now the Kryptgarden Forest sits to the North, and what used to be the Southern half of that wood is now the Westwood. Kheldell works with the Dusk Circle only taking what the Druids allow. Additionally, they plant more trees than they cut down so both forests are thick with trees." Here your mind resumes your original narrative, as if the interjection had never occured, "and the third runs into the hills. Into derelict, monster-infested keeps. The town was named for a stand of red larch trees, that were" Unfortunately "chopped down about the time of the town's founding." Red Larch is known for its nourishing, though otherwise un-noteworthy food, called crumblecake. Crumblecakes are made into moist loaves from nuts, chickpea mash, chopped roots and greens, turkey and wildfowl scraps, all baked together. They also have a corp of about a hundred archers, mostly younger boys, who train by keeping predators away from Mhandyvver's Poultry farm. Those boys have enough of a reputation, that local Orc raiding parties avoid attacking Red Larch now. In addition to the poultry farm, Oneshield Quarries, and Thelorn's Safe Journeys the town has a farmer's market, and a cattle market. Additionally, the town boasts three Harnessmakers: Alaglath Chansyrl, Sklaen Jhavander, Ogmoth Tarnlar. Taverns include: The Red Larch Rambler, The Helm at Highsun. Inns: Blackbutter Inn, Swinging Sword, Dran & Courtier. Pictures: Red Larch MapRed Larch Surroundings MapRed Larch information quoted above taken from here.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Jun 7, 2018 8:21:37 GMT -5
Soon after taming Sigi Ja'lian would more times than often enjoy the view from the skies and look down at the roads he would've walked fly by. Every hill he'd have to climb, ever puddle he would need to dodge he looked at all the troubles on the roads and found a smile on his face. Nowadays he is very much reclined onto his high back saddle with his nose firmly into his book. Why look at the passing treeline when you can enjoy a good book and absorb more knowledge? He could already recite the feeling of flight by heart and it would make a good descriptive for his own adventure book but it had long since worn on him. Besides with everything on his plate he didn't have time to enjoy flight. He needed to know more as quickly as possible and he wasn't going to know more by watching the grass pass under him. He felt a twinge in his mind and found himself in his mind's library. His safe place as it were. A massive collection of every book and experience in his life perfectly organized on on display in beautiful leather bound volumes. Here is his childhood experiences learning the sword and bow. Over there a collection of information on the various planes. Here a tome of his experiences in procreation, not that helpful but the woman he had bedded always wrote him asking when he'd be coming back. Something about getting her fix of elf love. Getting her fix? Is something in need of repair? Perhaps that book he'd read on cart repair could hint to what that meant? He shook his head and inhaled. No time for that. To him this place even smelled of a library and it was peace... Or, it would be. Among the smell of old books and oaken shelves there was a hint of death. Of blood and murder, the unmistakable sweetly sickening odor of decay. At first it was weak and didn't even register but it seemed every single little thing Ja'lian did made it stronger. He looked up. What should have been a ceiling was instead blackness. Deep unending blackness that would go to the farthest realms of the infinite and continue. A tendril of that blackness reached out and touched a book on the top shelf. It became consumed in black so dark it made ink look bright and dark purple letters started to glow on the spine proclaiming it to be an instructional booklet of how to gain knowledge faster. Ja'lian inhaled and blew out his mouth in one quick burst as if to blow a fly away. A gale force wind blew from his lips and pushed against the tendril. At first it resisted but then it retreated back to the blackness. It did so willingly. Not cause of the gale force wind but because it wanted too. He looked at the book and seen it had returned to normal. He sighed and clenched his fist till his knuckles turned white. A useless gesture he knew but it was a form of resistance and against a God any resistance was good. Myrkul. Lord of Bones. Lord of the Dead. Old Lord Skull. The Reaper. He was a mortal necromancer who'd attained godhood or so some books had said. Others claimed that he is Death itself and ruled everything before the cruel Overgod Ao over threw him and cast him and many other gods from their planes. Of course such accounts are more often seen as rubbish. The library shook. The most accepted of the stories is that Myrkul attempted to steal the tablets of Fate was cast from the Planes and got killed by a mortal mage. The library shook. Accounts say part of his essence was captured in an Artifact called the Crown Of Horns. Which was last seen in Waterdeep. The rest, as it turned out was inside of a no name zealot who attempted to place that essence inside of an ancient and powerful Dracolich called Ebondeath. Ja'lian interrupted that ritual and for his heroic efforts was burdened with the dead god inside his head. An ever present stench in his otherwise serene mind. The library shook. "Would you cease your importunate rumblings in my cerebrum?!" Ja'lian snapped at the darkness. He huffed out his breath and smoothed out his vest. Looking around he found himself once again in his saddle far above the Dessarin Valley. With Tsuki resting on the pommel and Sigi eyeing him. Both having a look of concern in their eyes. Ja'lian lifted his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. "I am... Fine" He told them tiredly. The two shared a glance and Tsuki took flight, taking her place on Ja'lian's shoulder once more to keep watch and Sigi turned his eyes to the open skies before him. He was fine.... Or at least he would be after this fleck of divinity was dealt with. His head started to hurt. In the Town of Red Larch a shadowy figure flying on a mount isn't that much cause for concern. Not too far away are the Feathergale Knights who frequent the town, however they're never usually alone. So one of the Trusties (a group of 4 men who work under the Constable) swiftly notices the approach of not a Giant Vulture or Hippogriff but instead a Wyvern with a rider. He dashes toward the Butcher Shop and throws open the door. There in a blood soaked apron with her hands in giblets is a woman in her middle years. "Mayor Ornra" He says worriedly. "You need to see this" He warns and dashes out toward the buildings next door to find the other Trusties. Jalessa Ornra, now Mayor Ornra still has some reservations about being a Mayor and all its responsibilities but always a woman of good sense she takes it as well as can be expected. Davin is usually not that excitable so it stands to reason this is serious. She hangs up her apron, washes her hands with a cloth and goes out back. Reclining in a chair with his duster covering his body and a wide brimmed hat tipped over his head Harburk Tuthmarillar or the Constable as he as known laid napping with his boots resting on a bucket. The man never slept that she'd seen in the years he had lived in Red Larch, only napped. A former officer of Waterdeep he was retired due to a leg injury that never quite healed and made himself useful as the Judge and and commander in the bustling hamlet. Ornra touched his face gently. "Wake, my love, there's trouble in town" She whispered and walked back into her shop, grabbing her coat and headed out the door. He was beside her before she was out on the street where a circle of people was forming in the square. A quick word from the Constable sent curious onlookers out of their way swiftly to see the curious sight before them. An honest to goodness Wyvern sat in the square. Ornra had never even seen anything like the scaled beast that was easily the size of a covered wagon, save for in the stories. Harburk had caught glimpses of a few in his services to Waterdeep but never with a saddle. For that matter the saddle was just as strange. Designed like a reading chair with a high back and looking more for comfort than combat, it also has several pockets and pouches along both sides and sat that saddle was an elf with white skin that seemed to almost have a blue-ish hue. His long ears marked him a High elf but why would an elf be atop such a beast? Or for that matter why would he look so natural and calm sat atop the beast with his face in a book. The beast snapped at one of the Trusties who had his sword drawn. In fact, all four of them were present and all with blades in hand. Even Harburk had a gloved hand on his sword hilt and his arm protectively in front of Ornra. Well, as much as she adored him for being protective of her, she was the Mayor and it wasn't good sense for the Mayor to be a coward. She moved his hand away and stepped forward, drawing in a breath and all her courage. "Begging your pardon" Came a voice from Ja'lian's right and he held a hand up toward the voice till he finished his page. Satisfied he slipped a leather cord between the pages and pushed the book gently into his Bag Of Holding. Looking around he sees a mass of humans gathered around Sigi in a circle, giving the wyvern a 10 foot berth. Foolish. With a single step, the wyvern can easily close that gap and kill the lot of them without a thought... He sighed and shook his head. That bloody pirate and his bloodlust had seeped into Ja'lian or maybe this was an after effect of Mrykul. He hoped for the second. Inside of that circle of people were 4 human men with blades drawn, eyeing both Sigi and himself. Of course facing a mage and his mount was a good cause for concern, only logical that they'd feel the need to have some safety. Even if their safety was little more than shiny tooth picks to his wyvern. But standing out from them was a human woman with blood on her cheek and sleeves, but none on her front. That would indicate a covering, an apron? The butcher, clearly. The older looking man behind her has a solider's stance. One Ja'lian was familiar with from his adventurers. A couple of Paladins he traveled with had similar stances despite having no weapon. That man was ready for blood and was confident in his skills enough to leave his weapon at his side. The Butcher as the one who called for him. Ja'lian thought for a moment. Must not confuse the poor bumpkins. A simple response is best. "Yes?" Ja'lian said. Perfect. "If you'll pardon my rudeness. I'm the Mayor of this town, Jalessa Ornra, I'd like to know what your intentions are coming here" She asks trying to be polite but bold. Its just good sense to be polite to the man on the 2 ton beast but its also good sense to assert yourself and show your won't be walked over. Three syllables? Ja'lian muses perhaps not as much of a bumpkin as he thought. "I am Ja'lian Moonscroll, Scholar and-" "Baby Butcher!" The gruff man cuts in with a growl as he pulls the Butcher woman back and draws his blade in one smooth motion. Many in the surrounding crowd murmur and gasp. The 4 men with the blades steel themselves and step closer. Sigi snaps his jaws, draws himself up and that makes them take two steps back. Ja'lian just frowns at the man. "Baby Butcher? That..." He pauses and thinks a moment. Bumpkins, don't use big words. He reminds himself. "I am no Baby Butcher, I... Well, actually..." He pauses another moment. He did dissect that dragon egg. But the thing was dead and hadn't even hatched, so it couldn't be considered a baby yet, it was still in its embryonic stage. Would these simpletons really consider.... "Your under arrest" The gruff man says, stepping forward. At this point Ja'lian is getting annoyed with being interrupted. He huffs and hops off of Sigi with his staff in hand. Ignoring the wyvern on the verge of murdering everyone here he steps to the man and nudges his sword away with his staff, withdrawing a crumbled scroll from his bag and hands it to him. That should put an end to this. The man's eye bulge in a most satisfactory manner as he reads over the sheet. "This is-" "A pardon from the Lord's Alliance" Ja'lian finishes with a smile. "I am an adventurer on a quest to stop a Cult's activities from ravaging the realm" "Like the Cult of the Black Earth?" Ornra asks. Ja'lian in the process of taking his pardon back and putting it his bag freezes. Another cult? First the Dragon cult, then the mrykulytes and now a cult of... what? Dark Dirt? No! no no no no. He has enough on his plate. "I've had a very trying journey, could you please direct me to the Blackbutter Inn" He says, dodging the question as tiredness sets into his bones. "The what?" Ornra asks. She's the mayor she should know what Inns are around. "The Inn" She looks at him curiously. "Only Inn here in Town is the Swinging Sword, there hasn't been any other Inn here except that one" "And how... Long have you.... Lived here?" He asks "All my life" Ja'lian pushes his glasses up with his fingers and rubs the bridge of his nose. Note to self: Check dates of publication for the books you use as a reference. The regular stables for horses and the like weren't built for accommodating a creature like Sigi so Ja'lian took some pains to see that his wyvern was properly housed and fed. Renting a nearby storage shed for the evening and having hay placed inside for comfort seemed to be adequate for him. Also, paying the Mayor to bring fine and thick cuts of meat to feed him with seemed to put him in a better mood. Ja'lian had spent a considerable time documenting Sigi's behavioral changes. Over the time he was in Waterdeep the Wyvern had to hunt for its own meals and find its own roost. For the remainder of this trip Ja'lian would see that he was given the royal treatment. All in an effort to see if that would change his temperament. Some scholars seem convinced that a wild creature that is pampered would loose its edge for survival but Ja'lian was convinced that his wyvern, who seemed to have been raised in captivity and beaten by his previous owners could break the mold. Like when an abused dog is placed within a good home, it becomes fiercely protective of its new owners. Ja'lian would even have a bed brought to the shed and stay with Sigi in order to further their bond. All in the name of science. Its not like he felt bad for having the wyvern hunt and shelter itself all that time. This is just for science. "So..." Harburk said announcing his presence in front of the shed as Ja'lian waved his hands over the shed's interior causing the dust and dirt that covered most of every surface to be pushed out of the building. "How did you get the name Baby Butcher?" The constable asked as he waved away the dirt Ja'lian blew out casually. "A.... Companion..." Ja'lian began, fumbling around the word. Didn't seem to suit the half-orc. Annoyance wasn't right either. Pain perhaps? No, he had his... quirks but rarely was as bothersome as the pirate. Meat shield seemed too informal for someone who risked life and limb for him. He shook his head. "Well, that aside" He said loud, drawing a curious look from the Constable. "He... slayed an.... unhatched black dragon and I... researched the.... corpse" Ja'lian explained slowly. The constable looked at him dumbfounded. Ja'lian sighed. "The... Egg was going to be used in a... Ritual to.... bring an.... Evil entity into our Plane" He explained further. Viola, motive and cause explained in full, that should satisfy the Constable. He thought. "Uh huh..."Harburk said slowly, looking at the strange elf sideways. Ja'lian's way of speech is very much like an adult with a large vocabulary trying to explain something to a slow child in the simplest terms. Often struggling to find smaller words to properly convey his meaning. As such, many people are dumbfounded by his strange speech pattern often thinking him slow or aloof and he himself reads their expressions and is further convinced he's dealing with people below his intellect. Such is the case between him and Harburk. The constable understands what happened and why. Adventurer's doing adventurer things but why one of the most powerful families in the Gate would put a price on his head still stood in question. But, it seemed cruel to tax the Elf with further questions. "Right then" Harburk nodded. "If you have any concerns or questions regarding the cult, I can answer them" He said cautiously. Ja'lian nodded, absently and waved his hand causing a box to lift and slide away, clearing a section of wall on the side of the shed. As the Constable left Ja'lian willed the invisible force he'd weaved into existence to close the shed doors and etched arcane markings in chalk across the open wall. 20 minutes later a door way of arcane symbols as tall as himself was drawn and he pushed his palm into the center. The symbols lit up and the wood gave way to his touch, opening into a 10x10 room that seemed to be cut perfectly from stone. Though on the other side of the storage shed's wall was only open air and a rain barrel. Near as Ja'lian could figure his Secret Room was somewhere in the infinite Plane Of Earth. Although it is hard to tell if he traveled to the Plane of Earth and walked here if it would be inside of a pebble no bigger than his finger nail or within a tall mountain the size of a country. He'd read lots of magical theory books but it was hard to tell with such complex spells what it would achieve until it was done. All existence is suffused with magical power, and potential energy lies untapped in every rock, stream, and living creature, and even in the air itself. Raw magic is the stuff of creation, the mute and mindless will of existence, permeating every bit of matter and present in every manifestation of energy throughout the multiverse. Mortals can’t directly shape this raw magic. Instead, they make use of a fabric of magic, a kind of interface between the will of a spellcaster and the stuff of raw magic. The spellcasters call it the Weave and recognize its essence as the goddess Mystra, but casters have varied ways of naming and visualizing this interface. By any name, without the Weave, raw magic is locked away and inaccessible; the most powerful archmage can't light a candle with magic in an area where the Weave has been torn. But surrounded by the Weave, a spellcaster can shape lightning to blast foes, transport hundreds of miles in the blink of an eye, or even reverse death itself. In his case he'd use the building blocks gained from the magic that made his Bag Of Holding and made a spell that built for him as storage space and safe haven. Where in the multiverse this was became a question in and of itself. He knew it wasn't connected to the Astral Plane or similar pocket dimension because he could walk in and out with his Bag Of Holding without the issue of both being broken and him forcibly sucked into the Plane. He shuddered as memories came flooding back from placing an orb connected to a pocket dimension into his first Bag Of Holding. He shook off the after shock the memories caused and gazed about his room. Perfectly flat stone covered every surface and was once barren and gave off a kind of light that seemed everywhere and nowhere. These days his Secret Room is decorated with a large high backed chair, looking more like a throne for a king of books. The arms, legs and even back seeming to be made of small shelves all of which were stuffed with tomes and papers. The only places not filled with books is where he's meant to sit, which is on a large oddly shaped cushion (at least thrice his size) that partially bulged over the arms and was pinned to the high back. Made for comfortable sitting, reclining or laying. A small simple nightstand with his Crystal Ball atop it sat within arms reach of the chair, a compartment in the nightstand housing the blueprints for his magic items. A fire place stood before both the chair and nightstand. The stone of the fireplace carved with images of moons and clouds and even inlaid with sparkling stones that partially reflected the fire within to make lights that danced with the flames. Atop the fireplace's mantle sits an Idol depicting an impossibly beautiful elvish woman sat atop a luminous cloud, being covered by only what her arms and squat position can hide. Scholar's Pride is the name of the piece and its a depiction of the enigmatic elvish Goddess of Dreams and Knowledge laid bare. His Goddess, Sehanine Moonbow, from which he drew divine power. The scene was from a story where a human had traveled to Arvandor and stripped the Goddess, laying bare all the knowledge there ever was or would be. Human fancies, Ja'lian was sure. No human would be able to strip an Elvish Goddess. A single large log of Black Birch sat in the fire place giving the whole room a sweet woody smell. Above it burned a floating flame that stood on its own. Fueled by magic and shedding the whole room in a gentle warmth and light. Against the wall nearest to him sat an egg the size of a human infant in an incubation chamber. Made from his own design in order to mimic the warmth of a Peryton. He brushed his hand unconsciously across his chest where many small scars were. He'd been impaled by two different Peryton's deer-like horns and it'd given him nightmares. He had plans to hatch and raise this Peryton to give his foes similar nights of restlessness and help him better understand the beasts. Its not like he was afraid of them per say, it was just better to understand something that inflicted that kind of mental trauma than to... Did it just move? Ja'lian forced himself to ease the grip on his staff. It should hatch soon... On the far wall near the fireplace stood several bookshelves holding many books he'd acquired in his journey. Some he'd rescued from evil lairs, others were gifts from thankful citizens or kind folks and some were bought, traded or bartered for. Many notes and charts stuck out haphazardly among those shelves all having some significance to him. Many written in a sequence of the seven languages he knew or were scribbles of single phrase or word in Elvish meant to remind him of something. So much to do. He sighed. In the opposite corner was his Magic Station. A table and chair inlaid with arcane symbols of power, stocked with several tools and reference books to help him in making magic items. Including a magic-infused quill and ink for scroll making. His magic items decorate the wall above and beside the table. to be within easy reach at a moments notice. Items including two magic shields, Boots Of The Winterlands and a Dagger of Wounding. A chalice of some magic quality sits atop the table to remind Ja'lian to research it as he hadn't the time recently. Hung up on the back of the chair in front of the table is a bandoleer of scrolls he'd been working on for his next confrontation. He's going after a Wizard who tamed a True Dragon after all and after having had a duel with a wizard, he knew he needed to be prepared. In the last corner a significant pile of soil sits with a single mushroom at its top. The mushroom itself coming up to Ja'lian's knee it makes a barely audible whimpering sound as he enters the room. A Shrieker its called in Common, a subspecies of violet fungus made to make noise and attract prey to the Fungus, also used by many denizens of the Underdark as an alarm system. But, the Shriekers he'd read about usually only grow in dark damp places. This one he'd found on the surface out on the road during a strange storm where hundreds and hundreds of them had suddenly sprouted up. One of his compatriots at the time, a Tiefling with a love of music, lewd comments and with hands that seemed to wander entirely too much to be decent. Even suffered nightmares and refused to look at any kind of mushroom after hearing the constant cries of the tiny mushrooms as that had been crushed under foot and cart. Perhaps she was just mentally weak but maybe this was a new subspecies that could cause mental harm to others. Only thing he could do is wait for it to grow. It seemed to have some sort of intelligence or at the very least a memory as it didn't shriek when he entered. Perhaps his time growing and nurturing it had formed some sort of bond or way to recognize him. The Shrieker was always the first thing he took care of, giving it water and burying dead bio matter he'd come across for nutrients in the soil. Usually whatever Sigi never finished from his meal. Ja'lian would even try communication, trying to establish a speech pattern through his own whimpers and noises. Though it was mostly just spending time with the mushroom. Next, he checks on his magic items and his Station. Seeing that they're all in working order. Then, he walks through his small library. Placing his old book among the shelves and pulling out a new one. Then, with his new book he takes his Crystal Ball, quickly checks on the Egg and leaves the room, entering back into the storage shed. He gazes into the Crystal Ball trying to find Ice Claws among the islands to the North, having only heard of the beast he realize his chances are slim but he'll try anyway. (Scrying spell, DC 17-5=12 Wisdom Save). After which (10 minutes duration) he'll place the Crystal Ball back in his Secret Room and close the entry way. After that he'll head to the Inn and several other places and put in a special request that they save all their wasted food and trash for him. He'll then into town, try and find a library or bookstore (And fail) and see what rumors are about town (and update his information on the town itself) maybe even find out about Dragon Cult activity in the area (To which only a 'turf war' or two might be present if any at all). He'll also appease the curious townsfolk by telling them (in his usual way) about himself if they feel curious. With his curiosity of the Town satisfied he'll head back to the Storage shed and Trance out with his new book; Realm Of Three Crowns and Sigi. After night sets in Ja'lian will make rounds and collect all the left over food and trash, using his Tenser's Floating Disc to help with collection. With it all gathered he'll head to a secluded and rocky place and pop the lid on the rounded bottle of grey liquid he carries. From the small bottle the liquid will jump oy, growing into a man-sized Grey Ooze that sloshes forth and consumes all the trash and food, breaking it down with its acidic body and consuming the nutrients. Ozzi was an Ooze, that was killed by the Half-Orc and Pirate and was brought back from death by Ja'lian and then gifted with Intelligence and the means to understand Ja'lian as well as the world around it. For Ja'lian, Ozzi is infinitely useful as its ability to corrode metal can help with break ins and escapes and its hunger for organic material makes it great for waste disposal. Especially bodies and failed experiments. Its proven a challenge to bond with Ozzi as Ja'lian cannot physically touch the creature without melting however he found that his Mage Hand has no such problems and Ozzi despite its new intelligence seems to enjoy nothing more than to corrode metal and consume organics. Strange but whatever works. With is Ooze fed, the Elf calls it back to its glassy home. Laying it on the ground. The creature crawls into the magic bottle, shrinking down to fit inside and once its completely inside Ja'lian approaches and places the stopper onto the top. With all of his companions seen to and a full nights rest. All that remains is to wait till morning and then continue on his journey to discover the White Wyrm and the mystery behind her Rider. Sigi: Ozzi: Crystal Ball:
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 7, 2018 6:38:08 GMT -5
You adjust your grip for the ten thousandth time as the thrust of Sigi's powerful wings pulls at the weighty tomb in your hands. Again, you have to pause in your reading to fix the makeshift wind screen you devised out of your cloak. One thing you hate about flight, is the wind pulling at the pages of your books. Even if not having to climb each passing hill, or dodge around each puddle or swampy bog below is convenient. The wind is an ever present nuisance.
'WE COULD SHIELD YOU AND YOUR BOOKS FROM THE WIND, AND WEATHER.' Not exactly words, and not exactly heard. More like impressions, of feelings and thoughts. Those thoughts are not yours, but Myrkul's. Along with the impressions of words forced into your thoughts, comes the full knowledge of a spell you have never researched before. This spell is so close to being cast that a stray thought would trigger it's effects. You have to actively hold back the magic to prevent it's release. (DC 10 Concentration) The logical knowledge seeking side of your brain examines the spell automatically, and finds that it would do exactly as implied. It would create an umbrella effect around the caster, deflecting naturally occurring wind and precipitation. (Your Knowledge Arcana is high enough to pass automatically.)
Myrkul has been getting stronger, tendrils of his influence have been creeping into every corner of your mind. Constant vigilance, and a concentrated effort on your part is required to keep those tendrils at bay. How many have you missed? How many times have you done something because Myrkul put forth the idea, without realizing that it wasn't your idea in the first place? Troubling thoughts indeed. Worst of all, any thoughts insulting the dead deity, or ideas for banishing him from your mind are met with an instant headache.
Before you can quash the dead deities presence, images that are not words flood across your mind, “YOUR SECRET ROOM IS LOCATED IN A POCKET DIMENTION FLOATING AT THE EDGE OF THE ASTRAL PLANE.” An image fills your mind of a great silvery sea. There are swirling wisps of white and gray streaking among motes of light resembling distant stars. There floating in the vast emptiness is a stone cube. From what you have read about the astral plane, this image seems faded. You also can't see any of the erratic whirlpools of colour flickering in mid air like spinning coins that the planar scholars described. You manage to stomp down the deities thoughts, but a small part of the knowledge seeking part of you likes having this fountain of ready answers at a thoughts notice.
You gaze into your crystal ball, and as the image forms you see the sleek profile of a white dragon's head. A small sharp beak at the nose, and a pointed chin. The creature bears a crest supported by a single backward-curving spine on top of it's head. The dragon also has scaled cheeks, spiny dewlaps, and a few protruding teeth when its mouth is closed. This dragon's expression is that of intense single-minded ferocity, and almost as soon as the image forms, the dragon looks right into your sensor and smiles? That's when you feel it, yet another presence in your mind. This one a skeleton wearing a robe lined with glowing arcane symbols. Make a Wisdom Save.
Game Mechanics: Need a DC 10 Concentration Check, and a Wisdom Saving Throw
Ice Claws Wis Save: 19+6=25
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 7, 2018 18:08:15 GMT -5
In Ja'lian's mind another tendril was successfully swatted aside, his books safe once more. However that latest outburst did give him an idea. A tiny bubble of magical force that springs up against wind or other such damaging elements, perhaps a play on Mage hand or Unseen Servant. It would probably require concentration for something so refined but maybe limiting it to books would make the spell easier to cast, maybe an element of permanence... Something to look into without a doubt.
Ja'lian pulls his glasses down and rubs his eyes as the images dissipate. "Personally, I don't ordain to depend upon your cerebral illustrations appertaining to the Astral Plane, given that I have experienced it first hand" The elf says, trying to repress the torrents of anger he feels swelling. Elves are supposed to be of the world and not. Serene and calm in the knowledge that that will outlive and outlast most of anything and everything. Ja'lian has no such quality left. His time with that "group" wore his already thin patience for idiots to little more than a slip of paper. The fact that Myrkul feels the need to remind him what the Astral Plane looks like, makes him think the Dead God is looking down on him and repressing the need to think unsavory things to save himself a headache is difficulty. But he winds up giving himself a headache trying to repress it. Or maybe Mrykul realized what he was doing. The whole thing is like a snake feeding on itself. Ja'lian looks at his Bag of Holding inside of his Secret Room. If this room used the same sort of dimensional spacing that his bag did, why didn't they both explode like the orb and his previous bag did? Curious... Another note to make. Another object of research. At this rate Ja'lian would need to outlive Ao itself to answer all the questions he has. Perhaps its because his Room isn't dimensionally anchored like the Bag of Holding? But spells like Rope Trick kicked the items and persons out after the spell power used to create it was used up, why not his room? Its remained the same every time he's entered it so far... He shook himself free of those thoughts and jotted another side not to look into it.
She knows. Ja'lian realizes in horror and his mind works into overtime. Of course she'd know, her owner is a wizard why would he not have safeguards against Diviners? He also recalls that older dragons have Truesight, they'd be able to spot it miles off even without being a pet to a wizard. Blotch it! In his mind Ja'lian watches as the lich-like horror tears its way into is library. "I humbly request that you vacate my consciousness, post haste." The elf says and taps his staff to the floor. Suddenly a book, with size enough to knock a Troll unconscious, falls from the ceiling and crushes the skeletal figure down. The title of the book reads; How to please a woman, Volume 3. "Ja'lian puls off his glasses and cleans the lenses. "I possess altogether an overabundance of trespassers in my encephalon, thank you" He says and places the glasses back.
Mechenics: Concentration: Nat 12. Pass. Wisdom Save: 19+7=26. Pass? (If not I have a Nat 20 among my Portent, (Assuming that shit that happens in my head is within my LOS) so Pass anyway, cause F*** you for trying to put more shit in poor Ja'lian's head. MY CHARACTERS HAVE ENOUGH MENTAL ISSUES!!! Hahah XD)
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 8, 2018 8:39:26 GMT -5
You come to the realization that the skeleton isn't real, and once you've come to that realization your academic side takes over. Banishing the skeleton from your mind with a book is considerably easier than pushing back the dead deities tendrils. You banish it without too much effort expended. With a few moments of recollection, it could only have been a phantasmal killer sent by the dragon. You've heard of such things before, beings that have been touched by spells, or the Spelltouched. An ability they call 'Live My Nightmare' if you recall correctly. Other than that, you don't know much more about them. With that in mind you add another thing to your list of things to research whenever you get time. Maybe this is why casters sometimes turn to lichdom? So they have enough time to research all the things they wanted to research during their life? "WE CAN SHOW YO-" You dissolve that thought before it can form, you don't want your head filled with how to become a Lich. The real question is this: did you dissolve the thought because you don't want to have that information, or because you're afraid you would be tempted toward that path? Returning your attention to the present, and to your corporeal body. You realize that the dragon is still visible in your crystal ball. It has begun hovering in place, with it's face quite close to your scrying sensor. Wait, is that dragon wearing a ring? Why is it glowing. A flash of magical energy blasts out from a bandoleer across the White Dragon's chest, you stagger back from your crystal ball as the energy hits your sensor. Nothing comes out of your crystal ball, so whatever that was it only targeted the sensor itself. The Dragon's eye fills your view through the crystal ball...
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 10, 2018 17:05:39 GMT -5
The elf gazes down at the crystal ball meeting the Dragon's eye after his encounter."Beautiful" Ja'lian says aloud and immediately snaps his mouth shut with an audible click. Why'd he say that? He waves his hand over the Crystal ball causing the image to disappear. He then gets himself to his feet and begins to pace. Beautiful? What is Beautiful? Beautiful is a descriptive term. Its far too opinionated and varied. To him a library was beautiful but many disagree. The tiefling was considered a beauty by many in the party but Ja'lian never thought so. Those buxom ladies that Anderson was drooling over. They were considered beautiful. But Ja'lian never thought so. Why would he say that? Was he attracted to a Dragon?! No. No, that doesn't make any sense he's never had any inclination like that before. Dragonborn performers came through often enough and he never drooled over them. He wasn't drooling now but... The White Dragon in the castle! Thats right! When he and the party entered that flying castle that was transporting the raided goods from the Dragon Cult's activities. There was a White Dragon then and he had no reaction, aside from annoyance and... He instinctively reaches for the scars that dot his shoulder. He nearly lost an arm to that thing. Hardly something to find attractive. Curious... Ja'lian's pacing comes to a halt and after brushing his fingers through his hair and shaking himself of his illogical outburst Ja'lian sets back to his work. A lich. Ha! Lovely for endless ages in a crypt Ja'lian was sure but for field work? Tastes, smells, feelings, the hero's journey and the excitement of a brush with death. All of that would be snuffed out as a Lich. Who wants to read a story about an adventurer who does nothing but see and hear? About an unfeeling skeleton with a hidden phylactery. Why should a reader care if the Lich dies, it'll come back. That is why they're compelling villains. After they're slain the battle goes on. The race to find the relic! The ignorance of the hero being unawares! A fine point of drama and some irritation. No. Lichdom was not for Ja'lian. He wants to write his experiences. He wants to have his experiences. Though its illogical for a Wizard like him. He wants to be on the front lines of his research. Sure, if he dies then Sehanine Moonbow will lift the veil and reveal the secrets of all there ever was or will be but till then he wants to hunt those answers. Feel the dirt under his nails, loose his breath in a thrilling chase, battle wits and magics against the gods and best them. His story will be one for the ages.
(In other words. The elf is an adrenaline junkie XD.)
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 12, 2018 18:39:04 GMT -5
With your thoughts sorted for the moment, regarding both Ice Claws and lichdom, you stomp out two more attempts by Myrkul to seed thoughts into your head as if they were your own. You find it easier to push back against the tendrils that you notice, but you have caught a few things the Myrkul has snuck through in retrospect. Worrisome that. The rest of your evening is spent visiting shops and restaurants to gather scraps and refuse for your various pets. Although there is no library, and no bookstore, you do manage to find an old fellow sitting on a stoop reading a worn down novel. Once you open up a conversation about books, he shows you to his library. "You'll not see a finer collection of books round here, I tell you what." He says, getting your hopes up. His idea of a library is disappointing, really just a half dozen novels and a locked book. When you ask him about the book, he says, "Don't know nothing about it, have never been able to open it. Had a merchant look it over, says it's probably worth a couple hundred gold. Too bad he wasn't interested in buying it off me, then I could finally retire!" The man laughs, before going back to reading his book. News of Dragon Cult activity is everywhere. People have been hearing rumors about an army massing to the south, one with dragons circling overhead. One fellow tells you about how the Waterdeep itself is besieged. Unsavory merchants are finding it easier to pay the cult tribute, or hire them directly to ruin their rivals. A dozen more stories that are completely not possible, and a few that are too trivial for you to worry about. The town's folk you speak to are all interested in you, some ask about your pet Wyvern, others your gear, still others about you directly. A fellow accuses you of actually being a member of the Cult of the Dragon, and will not be disuaded from that opinion because you ride a Wyvern. Book Image
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 12, 2018 21:23:28 GMT -5
Ja'lian quickly looks over the spines and notices a few volumes, he himself doesn't have including a very interesting reads. He then excuses himself and takes to his Secret Room, taking out about 200gp and the lesser of his magic shields he returns to the house and drops the sack of gold and the shield in front of the older man. "100 gold pieces and a magic shield for your whole.... library" He says plainly seemingly pained to call the shelf a library. "That... Shield can be... Sold for anywhere between 250-500 should you find a fair... buyer. I would call it a fair trans... That is to say trade, many merchants and I'm sure even the sheriff himself would have want for a shield crafted with Arcana" Ja'lian says and figures some way to give a demonstration of its ability. If he's not interested in the shield, he has 300gp on him that should get him to fork over those books. With the Dragon Book (At minimum) in his possession, Ja'lian fishes a leather cord from around his neck and draws on it till he pulls out a simple silver key with an elvish skull on it. He then taps the key on the book's lock. (Elvish Skeleton key. Can use the effects of the Knock spell without the noise. But, can only open things when touched by the key). If it opens; he reads it. If it doesn't he takes it to his room to investigate it.
Ja'lian is quick to correct anyone who calls Sigi his 'pet'. He's a might steed. A reliable mount and a fast and powerful ally. Much greater than a simple dog, fish or cat. Ja'lian will happily inform any villager who asks about his gear the deep and intricate magical machinations at work. Probably giving them a headache in the process. Whatever questions they have for him directly he'll answer honestly and simply. Save for anything regarding the Moonscroll name. His dear Father is still an irritant in his eyes, after all. To the fellow accusing him of being a Dragon Cult member, Ja'lian will inform him to bring his name up to any future Dragon Cult members he meets and send Ja'lian a letter (His address back home) on how well it worked for him.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 13, 2018 7:34:25 GMT -5
The man looks shocked as your pouch full of coins lands on his stoop, and spills a few coins. His mouth drops open as you add the shield, and prove that it's magical, to the collection before him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, flabbergasted. After a few more tries he finally manages to speak, "You Sir have yourself a deal." He quickly gathers up all of the books, taking special care of the locked one as it's clearly the most valuable among the set." He takes your hand, and shakes it vigorously, "Thank-you my boy, thank-you. This is more than enough to retire!" He seems genuinely elated at that prospect, "In fact, I might just invest some of this to get a few more books." He laughs then.
Your key does in fact unlock the book, and the moment the hasp is unclasped from the locking mechanism the title "Mestronas's Spellbook." appears in fancy cursive, written in gold lettering. You know that some spell casters lay traps within the pages of their books, just in case someone that isn't them gets their hands upon it. Maybe wait to research this book when you're somewhere safer? Once you do, you find that this book isn't in fact trapped and contains the following spells: Chromatic Orb, Gentle Repose, Maximilian's Earthen Grasp, Scorching Ray, Clairvoyance, Feign Death, and Hypnotic Pattern.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 14, 2018 7:07:36 GMT -5
Ja'lian looks back and forth over the book. Only 7 spells in a Wizard's book. That made no sense. There must be more than this one. But why's it here? Ja'lian recalled several books by a Scholar named Mestronas. A person who's researched and wrote on many dungeons as well as their machinations and wrote a few kid's puzzle books (Which Ja'lian himself enjoyed). That wizard was also without any spell book when they died and they died in battle as Ja'lian recalled. A great mystery and one that has been debated. No wizard worth their salt ever forgot their spellbook , it was thought that maybe they were destroyed or stolen, but even that seemed far fetched... Even Ja'lian himself had a few tricks and traps weaved within his spell book. An arcane lock and alarm spell as well as an unseen servant tied to it that saw to its safety. Not too mention the extra layer of keeping it in his bag of holding while he slept which itself was locked in arcana and never left his clutches or was outside Sigi's striking distance. But, perhaps, this is one piece to a final puzzle. The riddle of their death. Perhaps the spells themselves were a cipher to figuring out where the next one was hidden? Or maybe they were simply stolen by a crafty thief who pawned them off. Either way Ja'lian wanted to know. He NEEDED to know and he would, it would just take a little time and elves had nothing if not time...
That night after seeing to Ozzi, his shrieker and peryton egg Ja'lian spends the night looking over the book with See Invisibility and would even use the True Sight on his Crystal ball to look over its pages for anything he might've missed. He'll even try and figure out if there are any libraries or places of research on the way to Ice Claws domain so he can find more info on Mestronas as well as Ice Claws herself and her master. Rumors, notable books or accomplishments. Anything and everything. Copying from the spellbook will take more time and resources then he currently has.
(2 hours and 50gp per spell level means it will take 25 hours and 625gp to get all the spells he doesn't already have from the book and lets face it, I have expenses to pay for Inns and the like as well as feeding my creatures and research. Which reminds me... Done. Inn paid. I'm also using my Sage feature for location such libraries and other research places. For the rumors and such... Nat 7+0=7. Sigh... Welp, Ja'lian was never a social type.)
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 26, 2018 5:54:37 GMT -5
(So I was figuring out your route again, and I actually looked up the movement rate rules this time. Movement Rates (30ft) RAW: Pace | Per Minute | Per Hour | Per Day | Effect | Fast | 400 ft | 4 Miles | 30 Miles | -5 Penalty to passive wisdom (Perception) scores | Normal | 300 ft | 3 Miles | 24 Miles |
| Slow | 200 ft | 2 Miles | 15 Miles | Able to use Stealth |
If you do the math the resulting multiplier for per day is Fast is *7.5, Normal is *8, Slow is *7.5 instead of the expected *8, so... My Extrapolations (fly 80ft): Pace | Per Minute | Per Hour | Per Day | Effect | Fast | 900 ft | 9 Miles | 67 Miles | -5 Penalty to passive wisdom (Perception) scores | Normal | 800 ft | 8 Miles | 64 Miles |
| Slow | 700 ft | 7 Miles | 52 Miles | Able to use Stealth |
Both fast and slow had a .5, which I rounded down on the chart above. So armed with the information above, the entire trip will take longer than I had mentioned before. I have presented alternate routes from town to town so you can pick your path. If it says (no town), than there are no more large towns and the place mentioned is an area rather than a specific location. There are smaller villages and such, just nothing major. Place | Distance to (miles)* | Place | Time (Days)** | Route*** | Waterdeep | 118 | Red Larch | 2 | Road | Red Larch | 50 | Triboar | 1 | Road | Triboar | 130 | Longsaddle | 2 | Road | Longsaddle | 140 | Mirabar | 3 | Road | Longsaddle | 210 | Luskan | 4 | Over The Crags and Neverwinter Woods | Mirabar | 160 | Icewind Dale (no town) | 2.5 | Over The Spine of the World | Mirabar | 210 | Luskan | 4 | Road | Icewind Dale (no town) | 180 | Sea of Moving Ice (no town) | 3 | Over Ice Wind Dale | Luskan | 170 | Icewind Dale | 3 | Over The Spine of the World | Icewind Dale | 70 | Sea of Moving Ice (no town) | 1 | Over Icewind Dale | Luskan | 170 | Fireshear | 3 | Over coastline | Fireshear | 130 | Sea of Moving Ice (no town) | 2 | Over coastline |
* All distances are approximate. ** Assumes normal pace, adding a bit of fast here and there if it would make sense. Ex Triboar to Longsaddle is 130 (64+64=128) so you would be short about 2 miles. *** Road means that camping between towns will be pretty easy, while locations describe where you will be camping between towns. How does all of that sound?) Your research into Mestronas's spellbook with see invisibility and true sight don't yield much fruit. The only thing hidden within the pages is the invisible flowing signature of Mestronas himself inside the front cover, and a note that reads "Book 3/10" Upon thinking further about a wizard being found dead without his spellbook, you do know that some wizards keep their spellbooks in a secure location and/or make travel copies. So it's really not that weird that he was found without, but all your other options are also viable solutions. As to your thoughts on libraries or places of research, that will depend on the route you choose to take. That said the North is not the most hospitable place, and sages are not the most hardy bunch. Nothing really jumps to mind. (You can always use Mestronas's spellbook to memorize the spells you don't have in your own book. I'm sure your arcana skill is more than sufficient to figure out his work.)
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 26, 2018 13:51:08 GMT -5
(Ugh... Math.... But I say, I'll go Triboar, Longsaddle, Luskan, Fireshear and then into the Sea of Moving Ice. Its the most direct path and Ja'lian (as usual) ain't got f***ing time for this shit He's got gods to kill and books to save)
Assuming nothing else goes awry Ja'lian will trance out with Sigi and then return to his Secret Room for research on that Chalice. The one he picked up from the Aboleth encounter till sunrise. Then he will have a nice meal at the Inn, saddle Sigi and take off.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 27, 2018 7:00:01 GMT -5
You think about the trip to the Sea of Moving Ice again, planning your next hop along the way. That next hop is from here to Triboar. The journey is only a mere fifty miles. If you travel at Sigi's normal pace you will arrive in about seven hours time, which will give you ample time to calm the twenty five hundred people that call Triboar home. Triboar is thought to take its name from a travelers tale about killing three boars on the same day. The Lord Protector's banner consists of three black boards on a red background. Historically, Triboar was used as an assembly point for the Human armies that defended against the Orc hordes from the mountains in the North along the Surbrin. You've also heard that some sort of flying vessel landed in the village during the Greengrass festival in the late fifteenth century, disgorging humanoids that look like taller more gaunt Humans. These humanoids are described as having leathery pale yellow skin, and hair of red or black. They have pointed ears like Elves, but theirs are longer and serrated along the back edge.
The town is ruled by a Lord Protector, whose task is to command the town militia and settle disputes. The town uses "The Lord's Decree" as the basis of it's legal system, and the Lord Protector has the power to amend this system at will. The current Lord Protector is a Harper named Darathra Shendrel. Darathra was an adventurer from Waterdeep in her youth, which is when she joined the Harpers. She became the Lord Protector of Triboar after she retired from adventuring. She is known to be a descent winemaker as well. She is usually busy adjudicating local laws, which are then enforced by her militia, the Twelve. The Twelve consists of a dozen mounted patrols that rotate in a tenday cycle. If necessary, the town can call up a well-armed militia of fifty rapidly, and a small army of three hundred within a day. Occasionally the normally friendly relations between Triboar and neighboring Yartar sour over some incident, and sometimes violence erupts.
You can buy mountain ponies, and other horses in Triboar. Additionally, you can acquire all the wagons, harnesses, saddles and maintenance gear to tend to the animals. If you need a guide for your travels North, you've come to the right place. For seven gold pieces a day (excluding food), you can find a guide to take you anywhere in the North. A lot of the guides used to be adventurers, notable examples include Borth Jhandelspar, Ilrin Sharadin, Morth Fartheen, and Zandever Eyredanus.
There is a legend that the god of rangers, Gwaeron Windstrom is said to rest in a stand of trees called Gwaeron's Slumber. Gwaeron's Slumber is a sacred forest located just to the west of Triboar. Worshipers of Gwaeron Windstrom, and Mielikki treat Gwaeron's Slumber as a place of reverence. Darathra Shendrel has forbade anyone from hunting wildlife, or woodcutting in this forest for fear of angering Gwaeron. Some say that Gwaeron still roams amidst the trees there. The forest seems unaffected by the seasons, always in a constant state of autumn. Pilgrims and Rangers that come to worship or rest at the forest have been disappearing lately. Some claim that Gwaeron is spiriting away his worshipers, but nobody knows for sure.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 27, 2018 13:25:46 GMT -5
Ja'lian sets about his plans. He and Sigi will need time to rest in town as they'll have a long flight ahead afterwards. For Triboar He'd like to meet some of the strange humanoids he'd read about get a better feel for them
The Lord Protector will prove to be useful. A noted member of the Harper she'll be able to put him in touch with the organization. Any group that specializes in gathering information has to be a wellspring of knowledge and perhaps they know something of his current mission or of others.
As for Mountain horses. Perhaps Sigi would enjoy one as a meal... Something to consider. A guide might be more helpful but may also be a burden and might not enjoy the prospect of being on a Wyvern. Of course many of former adventurers themselves so maybe they'll be okay, if nothing else they might be able to direct him to safe places to land and rest himself.
(Ugggghhh! More F***ing gods...) Rangers are known for their reliance and capabilities. Them disappearing is dark tidings indeed. Perhaps the Lord Protector could shed more light on the incident.
Ja'lian pauses a moment and realizes he'd just been standing around! That whole time thinking and planning could've been done while he was prepping to leave, or better yet already up in the air! Its been too long here, it was time to be going.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 28, 2018 6:24:07 GMT -5
You go about the monotony of gathering your things, and preparing to leave. It doesn't take overly long, the routine of it is well practiced. Mounting Sigi, you take to the air. As you circle to gain elevation, you see that once again you're the center of attention. A group of children stop playing a game, watching enraptured at the sight of Sigi. The librarian that sold you the books waves good-bye, a friendly smile upon his face. The man that believes you to be a cult member scowls, shaking his fist up at you. Mayor Ornra shields her eyes against the morning light, and nods with a satisfied smile. You're not sure if she's satisfied because you're leaving, or because you didn't cause any trouble while you were there.
After a few hours of travel that mostly consist of you read books whose pages keep blowing around and battling deity thought tendrils. Sigi abruptly changes course. Startled out of your reading you take stock of the area, and notice that Sigi has veered toward a floating greenish orb. The orb is roughly spherical, with several stalks protruding from the top half of the sphere. Near the center of the sphere, the colour is lighter. Perhaps an eye? It's hard to tell from three hundred feet away.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Sept 28, 2018 17:46:13 GMT -5
Ja'lian has successfully cured his reading problem while in flight. Using the Unseen Servant attached to his belt pouch he commands the invisible force to shape itself around his book more or less eliminating every sort of threat, wind, dirt and rain simply slide of the Force leaving it completely safe and thanks to Force being invisible, legible. Ja'lian surmises that the off point to this is that any damage done to the book will undo his "assistant" and he will need to create a new one but as is he can read his books in peace
The elf scholar pulls on Sigi's reigns to turn him back on course, assuming that fails, leans from his saddle to take in the orb. An orb of Dragonkind? No... That wouldn't effect a wyvern unless it was an orb specified for such a thing and such an orb should be too small to be seen. He looks to Sigi looking for signs of Charming, if found, he puts the pieces together. An orb with stalks that can charm. Beholder... Ja'lian hasn't the damn time to deal with another damn monster charming and killing as it pleases. He leans out of his saddle and over the side to see if there is a place below that breaks the sight line between the orb and Sigi. Assuming there is he pulls his Staff Of Power and taps into the Weave. Using his staff he holds the strings of magic in the correct sequence and lets out his words of power. "Retsnom Dloh" He booms, his voice filled with magic as Sigi suddenly becomes stark still as if frozen in space. Now for the terrible part. Ja'lian braces himself for the free fall, but bracing down little for that sudden sickening lurch as he and Sigi plunge down toward the ground, going faster and faster. Hold it... Hold It... HOLD IT.... NOW!!! Once line of sight between the Orb and Sigi is broken he booms out. "Llaf Rehtaef!" and their maddening decent becomes soft and gentle till they're to the ground. After taking a moment or two to soothe Sigi (As well as check his pants) Our scholarly hero casts Invisibility on the two of them and flies out of there.
Mechanics: Arcana for Charming thingie on Sigi: 4+8=12 Staff Of Power: Hold Monster; Target Sigi. DC 18. Sigi Rolls: 16+1=17. Fail (F*** me that was close) Ja'lian: Cast spell; Feather Fall (Reaction). Will save for under pressure of falling: 10+7=17. Ja'lian: Soothe Sigi. Animal Handle: 6+5=11 Ja'lian: Cast Invisibility, 3rd level. Target: Sigi and Himself
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Post by DM-Delfon on Sept 30, 2018 17:21:50 GMT -5
You jerk the reins to the side, impatient to get back on course. Sigi responds by snorting, and curling it's tail up into striking position. Sigi's claws grasping and opening repeatedly, and it's eyes intent on the floating orb. Apparently Sigi is set on this new course toward that orb. Leaning over the side, you see that Sigi has been following your instructions. Below you some five hundred feet or so is the road you would be walking on if not for the Wyvern. As far as you can tell Sigi is not charmed, but you would recall that Wyvern are a subset of the Dragon family, and many Dragons are fiercely territorial. Many Dragons also believe that whatever they can see is their territory.
There! You find a hillock with a copse of trees growing thickly on top, just high enough to block line of sight. You prepare for your spell to go off, hooking your feet firmly into the stirrups, and tucking your legs up under the saddle's edges. The magic rushes out of your mind like a flood, and Sigi abruptly stops moving. For a moment you continue to glide on Sigi's outstretched wings, but then your equilibrium shifts as you start to pitch forward and begin falling. Your stomach lurches so that it feels like it's sitting in your throat, and you feel a little dizzy as Sigi continues to somersault as you plummet. Ground... Sky... Ground, sky. Ground-sky. You manage to time the casting of Feather Fall with your rotation, and dismiss the hold person so that Sigi can stick the landing. Sigi immediately starts growling, and the Wyvern cranes it's head around to bite your arm. You get the feeling Sigi is trying to dismount you, but your saddle begins to radiate magical energy and you remain firmly seated. Sigi's tail hovers menacingly near the back of your head, flicking back and forth like an angry cat. No matter which way the tail flicks, the point of the stinger always seems to be aimed at the crown of your head or your face if you turn around. You try to calm the angry beast, but Sigi seems unmoved by your attempts to explain your need for haste or your dislike of charming magic.
Seems you pissed off your mount, what now scholarly hero?
Mechanics: Sigi Attack: 12+7=19 Sigi Damage: 2+1=3 (didn't use str)
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Oct 1, 2018 5:28:55 GMT -5
Ja'lian sighs and leans forward in the saddle to pet his friend as he speaks to him in Draconic. "<Must've been hard on you, being among those Cultists, I imagine they'd beat you for acting as a dragon should>" He says softly to the beast. A bit of heat in it for the Cultists. Acting in such a way wasn't logical and was beside that, just rude. "<This is my fault, I should've set a better way for us to talk, acting as a horse is no way for a Wyvern to be treated>" Ja'lian says berating his lack of foresight and then sits himself up, squaring his shoulders. "<Having said that, you will fly yourself to your death going that way, if that orb is a Beholder it will turn you to ash, or make you fly in circles for its amusement, paralyze and eat you as well as any number of nasty things, and I will be helpless the moment that eye fixes on me and cuts me off from the Weave so I need you to trust me on this>" Ja'lian informs the great creature in a firm tone, but once all the words are out he sinks in the saddle and after a moment hops off. After straightening himself he moves to stand in front of the Wyvern. "<But, in the end, its your choice, if you want to go after the orb, I cannot go with you, its too dangerous and with the Drakohorn having been sounded every moment is precious>" Ja'lian stands there awaiting his companion's decision. This wasn't logical, he was the master here, he should simply put his foot down and that would be that. Being trained as a mount this wyvern couldn't defy him, but that was the reason Ja'lian did this, because Sigi has had no choice in anything and this was his first act of defiance after being so faithful and helpful. How could Ja'lian deny the beast that stood over and protected him after he had fallen against a White Dragon. He couldn't in good conscience deny his companion his own curiosity.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Oct 2, 2018 7:48:59 GMT -5
Sigi curls his lip at you when you pet his neck, but you're not sure if it's because you're petting him or because you mentioned the cultists. Sigi snorts at you when you talk about the Beholder, giving another quick shift meant to dismount you before giving up. When you then hop off of him, Sigi seems less agitated than before. After you finally stop speaking, Sigi leaps into the air. His powerful wings beating you with blasts of wind. He circles up toward that orb that had be ever so slowly moving toward the pair of you while you spoke. You sigh, assuming that you've lost your mount and friend. You watch as Sigi achieves the height needed for an aerial charge, and are slightly confused when the orb creature doesn't blast Sigi with eye beams. Sigi does a fly by, spearing the creature with his stinger. The moment the stinger connects, the creature explodes in a puff of green. Sigi is already moving to avoid the bulk of the cloud, slowly circling back down toward you. When his hind claws reach the ground, he thrusts his wings to remain reared up towering over you for a few moments. Sigi is simultaneously terrifying and beautiful. He lands with a thump, and turns to the side so you can mount. A satisfied 'I told you so' look on his face.
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Oct 13, 2018 8:59:09 GMT -5
Ja'lian sighs as Sigi takes to the air and after flying away he whispers; "Follow him. Stay in his shadow" To Tsuki as he casts Invisibility on himself and the two take off after Sigi. He has no intention of letting that bull-headed wyvern get itself killed. He knows this isn't logical. He knows in his bones that letting Sigi distract the Beholder is the smart thing, but Sehanine damn him if hes gonna let that damned beast.. He watches in stunned silence as Sigi kills off the creature and then disengages his invisibility to meet the Wyvern. He looks up at the large creature he calls his mount, adjusting his glasses, seemingly to the wind that the WYvern generates and activating their magical property allowing him to see the Weave (Detect Magic). He looks where the gas touched Sigi for any signs of magical shenanigans, assuming he finds none, he makes a mental note to Detect poison when the Wyvern is resting to make sure nothing is amiss. But, for now, he lets the beast have its victory. He was wrong, he's over 100 years old, he can admit when he's made a bad call. With a bow to his mount he hops up on Sigi and takes back off into the great sky.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Oct 13, 2018 17:51:08 GMT -5
There is no magic affecting Sigi, and if you check for poison you would find plenty. Sighing, you realize that Sigi is forever dripping poison from that stinger of his, and it's bound to get worked into his scales from time to time. Medically speaking, Sigi shows no signs of injury or illness. The rest of the trip is uneventful, you saw a cluster of those floating orb things far below at one point. Sigi must have missed them however, because he just kept on flying straight ahead. You see the tell tale signs of Humanity ahead, and correctly guess that you have reached Triboar. Changing up your approach this time?
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Oct 23, 2018 15:36:51 GMT -5
As Ja'lian approaches Triboar he figures it'd be best to approach the bigger town like Waterdeep; land outside and find out the policy of exotic mounts in the town. If Sigi is allowed in that'll be good but the wyvern can just as easily take off and find some prey near by while Ja'lian prepares a cave or something similar outside of town for the large creature's rest. Once things are straightened away on that front the Lord Protector and any library or sage's house will be next on the agenda. Possibly joining the Harpers and figuring out what the deal is with that Ranger God. Though he may have to put a pin in that particular side quest. As it is, all of Ja'lian's actions are focused on dealing with the Dragon Cult. Even this trip to meet the Mounted Mage; Seeing his stance with the cult and possibly getting some insight into how chromatic dragons think and work. He may have the ability to unravel the ranks of the Dragon cult or at least cause an uproar. Playing into a Dragon's vanity by bringing up the illogical choice of humanoid races running the cult instead of Dragons. Turning the Kobold's against the cult by bringing up that their god was abandoned by Tiamat in an endless maze. Perhaps he could even bring the God out of that maze and convince it that the Kobold's would be better used as scholarly assistants than as cannon fodder in a fight for survival they never seem to win. Ja'lian has plans on plans for disturbing the cult. Everything from locating an Orb of Dragonkind to pull dragons out of the fight, to gathering worshipers of Bahamut to summon their god to counter Tiamat's arrival. Using the resources of the Lord's Alliance to buyout the Mercenaries the cult has under it and pooling the hateful folks the Cult has scorned into the fight against them, yes. Plans on plans
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Post by DM-Delfon on Oct 26, 2018 8:06:00 GMT -5
As you approach Triboar, you decide against letting Sigi find her own prey in the local area. A collection of ranches surround Triboar, (Westpharl Ranch, Breskyn Ranch, Lost Moon Ranch, Fallen Orc Ranch, Yellowshore Ranch, Tolbin Ranch, Hannamor Ranch, Broken Yoke Ranch, Merrymeadow Ranch, and the Singing Hill Ranch) and the herds of horses and other cattle would likely become that prey. The last thing you need is to have to face an angry farmer in front of the Lord Protector. Looking at the layout of buildings, you see a large market area right in the center of town. There is a two story stone tower with a distinct eastward lean to it's structure. Surrounding that are a couple of campgrounds, a ranch, a building with the looks of a sawmill or a wainwright perhaps both, and a large house or store. To the North, beyond the campground is a derelict house surrounded by a weed filled field. Nestled between the campgrounds is a large building with the look of a barn or warehouse about it. Adjacent to the Western Campground is a boarding house, or perhaps a barracks, an inn maybe? Another similar building can be seen to the East, surrounded by farms. Behind the derelict house rests a large house or shop, with a workshop or shed on the property. On the opposite side of the road from the derelict house is a tavern, at least you guess it is a tavern based on the man wavering where he stands while he pees on the wall outside. On the Western road you see a boarded up building and a older building with the look of an inn. To the Northwest, up on top of a 30ft cliff is a large stone mansion with a stone gargoyle on each of the four corners of the roof. Opposite the ranch on the Southern road is another tavern. On the North road there are a pair of blacksmith shops or forges. To the East there is a brightly painted, quaint cottage with a pony shaped weather vane, and an estate with an orchard and two large buildings. Landing in a muddy field to the South of the town (T25), it only takes a few minutes before a dozen armed men armed with lances approach. They ride under a banner bearing three black boars on a red background. The men break off into four groups of three, and form a wide circle around you and Sigi. It's clear that they're wary of your Wyvern, but they don't appear to be hostile either. Once their circle is formed, they just sit there with their lances lowered. They appear to be waiting for something. Pictures: Darathra ShendrelTriboarLegend: (C=Cottage, F=Farm, T1=Market Square and Tower, T2=North Caravan Campground, T3= West Caravan Campground, T4=Happy Horse Ranch, T5=Wainwright's Wagons, T6=The Lion's Share, T7=Ransor's Open Road, T8=The Cart and Coin, T9=The Triboar Travelers, T10=Northshield House, T11=Othovir's Harness Shop, T12=The Talking Troll, T13=The Frost-Touched Frog, T14=Six Windows, T15=The Boar's Rest, T16=The Triboar Arms, T17=Uldinath's Arms, T18=Foehammer's Forge, T19=Merivold Pony Park, T20=Everwyvern House, T21=The Pleasing Platter, T22=Graveyard, T23=Apothecary, T24=Gwaeron's Slumber, T25=Marshaling Field
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Oct 29, 2018 15:44:27 GMT -5
With that many farms around Ja'lian is sure he can play the farmer's off one another to get the best deal on a cattle or two for Sigi's meal. A simple bartering game he's read lots about, more than likely they will have rivalries and such. This farmer did that farmer wrong for this reason so I'll pay half what he did because it would spite him. Yes, a good plan.
The eleven scholar looks around at the armored men surrounding him. Honestly, if he was a threat it would be immediate, if they took as much time thinking logically as they did swinging those lances around they'd have seen that from the start and this whole parade wouldn't be necessary. Ja'lian could conduct his business like anyone else and be on his way, another face among the throng, but as is increasingly apparent; People are flawed. They talk and spread rumors, create a panic over nothing. A boy trips and drops a bottle of dye into the river and a mass panic sets in. Everyone thinking the water is poisoned. "Why, my aunt's favorite nephew is already sick." "That's nothing, my brother's friend's dog is spewing blood." "No no, that's not right, the river is giving people the plague, I died from it last week". Ja'lian sighs heavily as hundreds of scenarios spring to his mind, after a moment he crushes them with a dismissive thought. Books. Now those were perfect. You can always rely on a book, for a good story, for vital information, for comfort. Non fiction books were always true and fiction was always false, no need to question things here. No second brother's aunts here, no sir, just ink on paper and exactly what you expect. Oh, sure a book can be outdated but that's not a flaw of the book, what it says was still true at one point. You can always judge a book by its cover. 'The Illustrious History of The Great Town of Triboar' will be about Triboar's history. Mean while when you walk up to a tavern rough wanting to know the amount of force needed to break a femur he starts talking to you about Puppet shows he likes to do for Orphans.... Ugh... People were flawed. They always will be. At least one of these men will go to the tavern and talk about how he cowed a mighty wyvern and its crazy mage master with nothing but grit and some other quote unquote manly add on, like doing it with one hand. Another will say they stopped a wyvern like it was no big deal and let the women he's in front of draw their own conclusions till they're convinced he'd be good to mate with. Another grizzled fellow won't even bring it up, another day another gold, nothing worth mentioning. Each of these men will have a dozen different takes on the same incident in which a mage landed with his mount, kindly waited till their captain or some other official arrived, politely explained to them his wyvern was not a vicious beast and he was not a disreputable sort and was left to his business. An hour of wasted daylight for nothing more than preventing an irrational outbreak of idiocy. Ja'lian snaps back from his thoughts, looking about him once again, still no official. So, he decides to kick his feet up on the pommel of his saddle, lean back and read while he waits.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Oct 30, 2018 9:40:21 GMT -5
You set try to get your feet up on your pommel, but the saddle is designed to keep you sitting upright. After a few different attempts you sit yourself on Sigi's arm, and lean back into the side of the saddle. This position is surprisingly relaxing, and you get to your reading in earnest. Sigi hunkers down to get comfortable, wrapping one wing protectively around you, and the other around his own head. Within moments Sigi is snoring loudly. You've never heard Sigi snore like that, and you suspect that Sigi is faking being asleep. Mimicking your show of relaxation perhaps? A few minutes later, a woman approaches from the town. She wears simple leather armour, adorned with a silver harp over her left breast. Over her leather armour is an apron stained heavily with red and blue splatters and splotches. Once she is closer you notice a scar that pulls down at the right side of her mouth. Another scar that starts on her forehead, and ends on her cheek below her right eye. She was lucky she didn't loose her eye to that one. She moves with the confidence of an adventurer, and judging by how the mounted soldiers sit a little straighter and separate to let her past she must be in charge of Triboar. "Well met stranger, unless of course your name is Ja'lian by chance?" Picture: Darathra Shendrel
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Nov 4, 2018 18:07:39 GMT -5
Yes, greetings and salutations! A warm welcome all around and may you find the day's happiness without strife.... Unless you are exactly who you look like in which case none of those things. Is that what Ja'lian is suppose to glean from that exchange? After she finishes talking Ja'lian raises a single finger until he finishes his page, a few words left. He then slides a leather cord into the book and methodically tucks the book away. He then meets the eye of the woman. Short words. He reminds himself. Don't confuse her. "I am" Ja'lian says simply. Well done. (At this point I assume weapons are pointed, or people are visibly tensed and ready to attack. For this Jal'lian is no less at his ease than before) "I see my... Rep? Rep. Yes, rep. Proceeds me... yo" He says, trying the unfamiliar terms with clear difficulty. He heard a couple of Urchin kids in Waterdeep talk in a similar fashion. Quite handy. "But, It would also... seem, you lack... current... know-how of my... pardon from the Lord's Alliance. With... Blessings from the Order of the Gauntlet." Ja'lian says a lil more like himself. Slow and deliberate, no more than two syllable words. "If you'll... Permit me, I have said... pardon in my... bag" He says and motions to the bag of holding on his waist. Assuming hes allowed to retrieve it he does so and slides off of Sigi's wing without hurting the beast and then proceeds to walk 5 feet from Sigi and offer the paper. Staying within range of his Wyvern's stinger. If her or any of her guards try to grab him Sigi will strike passed and drop them then its just a quick Misty Step to Sigi, hop on and fly out. She's a known member of the Harpers, sure but, who's to say the Dragon cult or some other force that doesn't like him haven't gotten to her or one of her guards? Ja'lian won't be moving from outside of Sigi's strike range. Any attempt to do so will be met with a polite decline of the offer and a riposte of the truth. There are a lot of bad things out to get him and he needs to feel safe and being away from his mount and within the reach of people who can easily over power him (In terms of strength) isn't very safe for a scholarly type like himself. At most he'll move to 9 feet away, the maximum length his wyvern can reach is 10 feet 2 inches so whoever tries any funny business will still wind up with a foot of wyvern stinger before they can get away.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Nov 5, 2018 18:21:13 GMT -5
As soon as you say 'I am.' She calls out, "Lances up boys. Go on back on patrol now." The lances are raised immediately, but you can see the worry on the soldiers faces when she suggests that they leave her alone with you, or more likely Sigi. When they hesitate, Darathra raises an eyebrow at the one that lead the patrol over here. He gives a brief nod, looking properly abashed. He then turns his mount and leads the troops away, leaving Darathra standing there in her wine covered apron. With her this close, and you being down wind you can actually smell the fermenting grapes from here. She waits until they've all gone about sixty feet away, or perhaps just so the noise of their horses and gear is quieter by distance before she speaks, "Put that pardon away Ja'lian, Leosin Erlanthar has told me of your activities. I know that you're not a Dragon Cultist." She thumbs over her shoulders at the soldiers, "They don't. All they saw was a man riding a dragon, and assumed you were another envoy for the bloody Cult of the Dragon." She actually spits off to one side before adding, "Bunch of bastards." Not quite under her breath enough not to be heard. "Would you care to join me at my home for a meal? We have much to discuss. I can have the boys bring out some livestock to feed the beast."
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Post by DM-Boneyard Ben on Nov 14, 2018 10:17:13 GMT -5
Ja'lian seems to stop short as the name leaves her lips. "Leosin? The... half man or... do you refer to.... another?" The elf asks curiously in his usual manner. "Last I... seen of Leosin he was... buried by me and my... the ones I was traveling with after being.... Peeled...". He's sure to get the story behind that. Harpers are sure something if they can bring a man back from.... That... Even more reason for Ja'lian to join their ranks. Leosin himself must be an interesting character after having such an experience and then traveling this far north to inform... Wait... Did the half man know where Ja'lian was going to go or was it a coincidence? Was he expected to be here? He didn't even tell his own sect where he was going. No one should know why or how he's going north... Curious. He's sure to ask about such things as he tends to Sigi. Petting the creature and telling him in Draconic that his food would soon be here and that Ja'lian would return soon. Best to make sure the anti social wyvern is behaved while Ja'lian is away. The elf then joins up beside the Darathra to discuss matters. Weather she was expecting him, how Leosin is alive, how the half-man is doing, how to join the Harpers and what benefits come from joining, where their library is, if she knows anything about the missing Rangers, if she knows anything about Ice Claws or the Rider, if she could recommend a good guide through the woods and if they have updated maps or books on this and the surrounding areas, questions about the envoys from the Dragon Cult, like who they were, what they wanted, if there is a teleportation circle in the area, what threats there are in the greater area that he should be aware of as he's traveling north. Ahem... A few things to know.
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Post by DM-Delfon on Nov 26, 2018 23:08:21 GMT -5
She raises an eyebrow at your half-man comment, but nods in agreement. She goes on to explain further, "The Half-Elf I refer to is Leosin Erlanthar." She gives you a moment to process that information. "I had heard a bit about the manner of his death." She looks disgusted as she continues, "I don't know how anyone could flay another person. The culprit must be deranged, or a psychopath. Perhaps both. Since his resurrection, he has been following your party's progress against the Cult." She gestures to the side to direct your progress up another road, "He sent word to his contacts along the Sword Coast, including myself, that we might encounter some or all of you, and that we should offer you whatever assistance we can."
You're brought toward the Market Square, and led into the two-story tower of the Lord Protector. The structure is a simple stone keep that leans decidedly to the east. Hanging above the entrance is the dusty banner of the lord protector, which depicts three black boars running toward the head of the banner on a blood-red field. Once inside you are offered a the use of a side chamber to clean off any travel grim. The room has the looks of a guest room, with a bed with sheets pulled tight in the military fashion, a footlocker and a side table with a wash basin and a pitcher of cool water for washing or drinking.
Once the two of you meet back up in a common room, she goes through answering each of your questions. You were not expected, by her or Leosin. She doubts very much that Leosin knew where you were headed, the letter she received wasn't specific enough for that. She says that her order, the Harpers, paid for his resurrection. Based on the contents of the letter, he seemed fine. They're not overly close, so she might be missing ques that a close friend might catch from text on a page. If you're interested in joining the Harpers, she can welcome you to the fold right here and now if you're willing to follow the code which she quotes from memory:
"Harpers work against villainy and wickedness wherever they find it, but they work ever mindful of the consequences of what they do. All beings should walk free of fear, with the right to live their lives as they wish. The rule of law aids peace and fosters freedom, so long as the laws are just and those who enforce them lenient and understanding. No extreme is good. For freedom to flourish, all must be in balance: the powers of realms, the reaches of the cities and the wilder lands into each other, and the influence of one being over another. Whatever it takes, a Harper will do. Pride never rules the deeds of a true Harper. Freedom is a multiversal right, though Harpers can spare themselves less freedom than those they work to protect when the need presents itself. Harpers police their own. A Harper who hears the call of personal power can no longer hear the sweet song of the harp. A Harper who seizes power, and holds it above all else, is a traitor to the harp. Traitors must die for freedom to live. Without a past, no being can appreciate what they have, and where they may be going."
As to the benefits, the organization is very loosely organized so you will have your freedom to do mostly as you please. The group collects knowledge from all over Faerun, and disseminates it to its members. There are hidden cashes of supplies marked with hidden glyphs if you know how to read them. Other Harpers will offer you assistance wherever you go. The closest they have to a location is the Twilight Hall in Berdusk, although individual Harpers might have troves of knowledge tucked away. She doesn't know anything about Ice Claws directly, but can provide a contact for a guide to anywhere along the Sword Coast right up to the Sea of Moving Ice if you're interested. She has up to date maps of the local area, and you're welcome to study them.
There are always dangers in the North, especially now that the Cult of the Dragon has stirred up all kinds of trouble. Displaced people are on the move, some of them are turning to banditry. Monsters are being driven from their regular haunts, causing all kinds of mayhem. Dragons have been attacking cities, towns and villages all over Faerun. That envoy from the cult landed here on a Wyvern, and demanded a tribute from Triboar in exchange for protection from those Dragon attacks. She sent him packing herself, and doesn't know anything more about the man. There are likely teleportation circles in Waterdeep, Neverwinter or Luskan. They have the population to support such things.
When you ask about the missing rangers, she perks up. "Would you be willing to lend a hand with that? I'm sure one of the Heroes of Greenest could solve this mystery in no time." She smiles then, a knowing smile. Like she just caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.
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