Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

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Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Wed Mar 18, 2015 7:13 pm

Best Laid Plans, Part 1

Chapter 1: The Long Road

Session One

• The docks are as busy as ever, it's the evening, after all. Shouts and wagons and sailors, oh my.

• Makin is just leaving the Coxswain after bite to eat. His glowing orb keeps up with him, shining bright orange-yellow light like a small sun.

• Xerxsephira's home was on the docks, she did most of her shopping around there but not in the cheap shops - she surveyed the new shipments. The exotic things - every time a ship came in from Rasheman or Thay or Calimport. Gods willing from Athkatla. The Gnome was sitting at the side of a busy foreman and bothering him endlessly. "Ye got any strange metals with ya? Ya know, more'n silver- weird properties? Particularly anythin' green?"

• Another busy day down at the docks and Throm was just finishing up checking on a delivery of ores for the shop and was just heading back when he spied a familiar face and strolled over "Well I'll be!!! Xerxsephira, how ye been Lass?"

• Rand stands out from the average man just a bit. Short raven locks seem to almost naturally feather back from his face, matching is severely dilated pupils. He stands a stout man in simple clothes with a morningstar on his hip, and a large shield leaning against a crate that looked to have no moved in ages next to him. He looks on in the direction of the small one pestering the foreman, though his disposition is just as hard to read as what he's actually looking at with his distorted eyes. He just seems to be looking into nothing, idly.

• Makin grins, moving over to stop beside Throm. He bounces a bit on his toes. "Yes indeed, Xerx. Good to see you. Any luck in your quest?"

• Xerx turned at the sound - damn happy to hear a familiar and friendly tone. He strolled - the Gnome barreled into his side and squeezed what of him she could get her arms around. "Throm! Good man! Where ya been dammit?" Not that she wasn't a little different than he recalled after first glance- she was a tad stronger, and her arms felt heavy- which on close look might have something to do with her knuckles being the hue of brushed green metal with veins of the same color streaking out from there. "Neh, nothin yet. Ya heard any stories about any?"

• It had been a long time since Rycael was in Waterdeep, having stayed to the woods for many months. She seems more out of pace here than the typical elf, being a wild elf, rarely seen by city dwellers. Her raven black hair and dark emerald green eyes compliment her dark brown skin. Rycael's hair falls freely to just below her shoulders, with thin braids keeping her bangs out of the way of her eyes. She walks with the confident stride of one that can hold her own in the wild, along with the grace all elves share. Rycael isn't overly muscular, but she is visibly strong especially in her well toned arms. Her's is the type of exotic beauty that would cause more than one glance her way. Rycael wears a tunic of forest greens and browns under studded leather armor. On her back rests a well crafted longbow next to a full quiver. A dagger hangs from the bandoleer across her chest, and a potion belt hangs around her waist. Around her neck is a wooden holy symbol of Solornor Thelandira, though it's usually hidden by her armor. Sometimes while hunting, Rycael wears a wooden mask that resembles a falcon. Everything Ry wears and carries is of elven make, possibly by her own hand.

• Throm lets out a huge laugh "Watch tha grip of yer's Lassy, your denting me armor there!!!" though he's plainly just joking and glad to see her as well "I've been working with me new business partner since we got back from tha little trip we were on." Turns and eyes Makin trying to place the face if possible?

• "Throm, yes?" he smiles, "Been about two years. Went for a walk about in the desert to visit my clan."

• You all overhear a conversation a woman, who you will come to know as Mary, is having with one of her neighbors, a well-built man with long, dark hair and a goatee. When the man shakes his head and politely declines to the effect of something like, “He’s prolly jes met a new red ‘ead,” he then shuffles off.

• "Makin Khoury Shamsal, priest of Amaunator, God of the Eternal Sun, Lord of the Lawful, Bringer of Order from Chaos, Father of Time Immemorial." he touches his holy symbol at his neck and bows slightly to the dwarf.

• Rycael surveys the busy city, taking care to avoid walking close to anyone and thus being in the way.

• "Aye Throm Shieldbreaker I am Sir." he replies quite jovially , business has been good and that makes for a happy dwarf indeed.

• "Heh, got a bit more a' one than I did afore this." She knocked the knuckles against Throm's armor - and it did sound precisely like metal on metal. "Lookin ta keep tha goin if I can find more a what I need."

• Curiosity piqued, the elf cautiously makes her way towards a human woman. {Elven accented Common} "Is a man you have lost?" Indeed, quite fluent in her human tongue.

• Rand rakes a curious interest in a woman talking with a man. He lifts his shield off the crate and slings it over his back walking in her direction. Dilated eyes in her general direction it seemed.

• She turns to Rycael. She is a woman in her mid-50s from the look of her, but still quite pretty. She nods. "My son, miss, Jayce," the woman replies. She seemed a bit flustered.

• Hearing the last bit of the conversation with the man, and most of it with the elfin girl, the broad shouldered man of dark hues and aura nears them. "Are you hiring a search party?" Rand’s rather blunt, but his tone is so passive he might be asking from somewhere farther than he physically appears.

• Rycael tilts her head slightly, eyes darting downward over herself briefly in confusion, before looking back to the woman, "Where you think he went?"

• "He was on assignment," the woman explains rather dramatically. "Last he'd written to me that he was perhaps a day out, and that he would stayover at the Sleeping Dragon. He asked if I'd make his favorite veal stew when he returned." She looks concerned. "Well the veal's gone bad days ago, I'm afraid." She looks towards others who seem to be taking interest in the conversation.

• Rycael frowns, "Sleeping dragons are bad things to be near."

• Well that did get her attention at any rate. The Gnome saw the woman but couldn't make out what was being said, not at first. But that was soon solved by wandering up to the woman as she explained. "So, gone missin' but not more'n a day out when - err, how long ago was the letter?"

• To Rand, "What I have isn't much, sir," the woman says. "But I can pay. Nothing up front for strangers mind you, but bring back proof of life or death and I will see you rewarded."

• "Yer not thinking ta turn yerself inta golem are ys Lassy?" Throm asks of Xerxsephira, still oblivious to the other group as the poor woman relates her tale of the missing son.

• Awake ones, more." Rycael nods.

• She turns back to Rycael. "The Sleeping Dragon is an inn. You know? In Rassalantar? It's about a day north."

• "Pardon?" he asks of Throm, "She is becoming a golem?"

• "Been a week now," the woman says to Xerx.

• Rycael nods, seeming to remember humans' tendency to give strange names to places. "I help. I am good tracking."

• "And your friends?" she asks of the others.

• "I'll do it. There are more ways to pay than coin and possessions." Rand nods his head, leaving it at that.

• Rycael turns to look at the others that have drawn near, looking ready to move if the crowd grows too large. She looks over the dwarf a tad longer than the others.

• "More useful in scrappin' than trackin. Still, might need some 'a that afore we're back." Xerx’d shrug there- then just kind of smile up at the woman like this was all normal. But then.. she looked strong, had those odd hands, and a longsword at her back.

• "Of course,” Makin replied, “whatever is needed to shine light upon the darkness and return a child to his mother."

• She blinks more than once at Rand and there was there the faintest hint of a smirk? She nods, and tells you to look for her at the Coxswain when you return with news if not with her son, as he'd know where to find her.

• Finally taking note of the other folks Throm turns and takes a look at the others as he listens at last , stroking his beard in thought "Well if yer thinking of going I suppose I can come along, just fer the off chance of getting ta head splitting in."

• As it was late evening now, it might make sense to start out early in the morning.

• "Meet at the gate after morning prayers?” Makin suggests, “... uhm .. which gate would we be leaving from?"

• "North Gate,” Throm replies.

• Rycael nods, "North at dawn is fine, I can make more arrows for hunt."

• "Thank you so much," Mary curtsies, more formal than her look would suggest.

• "Er, search..." She corrects, with an apologetic look to the woman.

• "The place's farms mostly,” Xerx explains. Six or so. Stone walls 'n a spring, marshlands easterly. Trees west a' it. Buildin' east' a the pond's the place we start lookin."

• Mary nods to Xerx, "That's the Sleeping Dragon, yes." With that she is on her way.

• Rycael nods to Xerx, "Thanks to you."

• "Well been lookin fer an excuse ta buy a wagon, so may as well see to tha." Throm says thinking out loud , then looks around "I'll meet ye folks there in tha morning, plenty of room fer anyone without a horse."

• Dawn comes all too soon. The North Gate is busy but not overly so as you travel beneath it on foot. A few peddlers wander between the slow moving wagons, selling everything from souvenirs to survival kits to those both coming and going (for both within the city and without!). Waterdhavian guards patrol at regular intervals, and you end up only a few dozen yards behind one such patrol as you travel north, which may or may not be reassuring, depending on the eye of the beholder.

• Rand absolutely hates dawn. He squints so harshly his eyes are slits as the sun hurts his vision, giving him a slight headache. Such was things when working with those who were made for the daylight. He had on his better quality boots, his morning star, and shield, and a small pack. He was not a happy camper.

• As you proceed, you eventually surpass their more slow, deliberate march. Continuing north, you all know that Mary mentioned her son’s last known location before sending you off: An inn in the small hamlet of Rassalantar known as the Sleeping Dragon.

• Rycael was near the gate since just before dawn, equipped with the gear she'd worn the previous eve. Leaning against a wall, she waits patiently for the group to arrive.

• Makin trots out upon a sturdy light warhorse. He looks little different in his appearance from last night but for that the orb is stowed away.

• Xerx seems inclined to ride in Throm’s new wagon - but then she had short legs so that might be for the best. She had her sword laid to one side of her, and a book in her lap.

• Rycael seems the type to rely on her own legs for transportation...

• Throm made his appearance as promised at the gates driving a wagon pulled by a pair of horses. His pack and extra gear loaded in the back, but leaving ample room for more, his shield was hanging off the side of his driver's seat , a warhammer hung from his belt and a great axe slung over his back (Open topped)

• Rand will walk since he has long legs, and the wagon will not protect him from the dreaded sunlight. He takes up a position in Makin's shadow to walk somewhat behind and west of him if he can keep up.

• Makin grins, "Rand, you appreciate the light while we have it. The early spring is not known for its stability in the skies."

• The party passes out of Waterdeep and toward their destiny. Two rumble along in Throm's wagon, while Rycael scouts the terrain on foot. Makin is comfortable on his steed and progress is good. Rand finds a bit of comfort in the shadow of the warhorse. The going is slow but steady, and you all know that to make Rassalantar you'll have to travel until sunset or just beyond.

• Something during her studies made the Gnome laugh right after Throm spoke. Couldn't quite help it.

• Rycael wears a wooden mask resembling a falcon, and her bow is in hand, though she hasn't yet readied an arrow.

• "I have an eye condition." Is all he says. It was obviously a bit painful for him. But he was here to do a job, and aimed to do it for his reasons.

• The hours moved by and the sun passed overhead, until it was beginning to hang low in the sky.

• Falling back slightly for a moment, the elf turns and walks backwards, {elven accented common} "Rycael Irra." she states, pointing at her self. Aperently now was when she decided introductions were appropriate... She tips up her mask while introducing herself.

• "Xerxsephira Griphlik Rustgore, fer short." The Gnome waves back to her with quite the easygoing smile on her face.

• "Good to meat you Rycael Irra, I am Makin. Pleasure to meet you."

• "Rand" Is all Rand says. He's not so much a speaker as he is a stress worn squinter showing more miles than his age warrants. He's sturdy and healthy, like a horse, like an over ridden well worked horse.

• Taking a moment away from relighting his pipe the dwarf glances over at Irra mildly "Bout time there Elf!! Throm Shieldbreaker by tha by."

• Rycael nods to the others in turn as introductions are made, giving the dwarf a smirk, "Thought dwarves knew patience?" She takes three apples from her pack, moving close enough to each horse in turn to give them one. Her movements are fluid, but with a graceful and respectful slowness to not startle the horses.

• "Heh!” Xerx chuckles, “Only some. So, what'cha figurin' we're gonna find 'bout this? Didn' sound like tha boy was weak or untested, so if he's gone missin.."

• "Well,” Throm replies, “ifin we pick up another Elf and we get inta a scuffle, figured it would be helpful to have a name ta use instead of calling out Elf number 1 or 2?”

• Walking forward again, Rycael smirks over her shoulder at the dwarf, "Fair point, Dwarfy One.” Then to Xerx, “Even good hunters get easy lost if not know woods. If he is lucky, that is all happened." she replies to the gnome.

• You move along a rising stretch of road, which bends and disappears from view a ways beyond. Perhaps 200 meters (yards-ish) from you is a pair of Waterdhavian guards, walking in your direction along their routine patrol.

• {elven} "Human tribes are too big..." Rycael mutters, moving out of the guard's direct path.

• Spotting the guards Throm gestures at them "Least we can ask them bout tha road ahead and maybe any word of troubles along tha road?"

• Rand really can't see ahead. He's trusting the elf to scout entirely here since out there is just nowhere he wishes to look.

• Makin nods, "Which of us wishes to speak to the Guard?"

• "That sounds like a volunteer to me. Good initiative, Makin."

• Rycael suddenly bursts into motion, drawing two arrows and turning her sights to the East.

• "HO! LOOK OUT!!" he points toward the east side of the forest, trying to warn the guardsmen. He kicks his horse and leaps forward.

• "BATTLE!" Rycael shouts in common, trying to alert those that didn't see for themselves, including the guards.

• Meanwhile, the spinning wagon wheels seem to have Xerx's and Rand's attention, entirely.

• Makin and Rycael's shouts are enough to direct your attention to the pair of dire wolves, exploding from the eastern treeline and bearing down on the guards who are now about 150 meters ahead of you.

• Well that's about all she needed to hear - someone screaming Battle that is. Xerx's book is tucked away and the longsword taken hold of. "Battle!" ..That probably sounded more excited than it should.

• The dire wolves attack the guardsmen, one of them getting nearly trampled, he goes down and the wolf moves in but he's still alive, the other manages to roll to avoid the blow...

• As Makin charges toward the wolves, he slips his shield into place and looses his morningstar from its place.

• Rycael lets an arrow fly, moving forward even as her shot falls a little too short.

• You see the guards continuing to fight for their lives as the wolves snap and tear at them. The one on the ground is definitely getting the worst of it. Rycael's well-intended arrow falls short.

• Xerxsephira sets her sword down long enough to muster up a brief incantation. (Shield) And then braces for the speeding up. Whether Throm just kicks them up a notch or sends them into a straight up charge.

• The cart rumbles forward as Xerx magics up.

• The dwarf whips on the reins pushing the horses to double speed and towards the guards up ahead.

• Makin rushes forward on his horse, a full all out run…

• The guard on the ground manages to regain his footing, but the other one goes down as the wolf grabs his forearm and drags him to the ground!

• Rand unslings his shield from his back and holds it up above his head in both hands to create himself some shade, and he moves forward at his walking pace. He wasn't trying to look that far ahead right now. (30 feet)

• Rycael slides her mask down as she runs closer to the fight.

• For the moment, Xerx’s problem is there's only so much she can do now waiting for the cart to catch up. The next incantation is as simple as it gets- a quickly uttered cantrip and then she hops right off the cart.

• Throm continues driving the wagon foreward after her but pulls it to a stop short of the wolves and sets the brakes.

• Makin slows Nahundi, near the wagon. He calls upon Amaunator, "Bring your light forward to protect these men and blind this creature with your brilliance." The bolt of light strikes the wolf, but fails to blind the beast. Makin yells, pointing toward the west, "More incoming!”

• The guards fight valiantly but are near to falling victim to the vicious attack of the wolves, despite Makin's attempt to deter them!

• Rand continues to walk forward. He's sure he'll make it by the time they're done dealing with the trouble ahead. He just keeps following the road, and listening to the sounds coming from the wagons and horses.

• Throm's horses are immediately unnerved by the presence of something more than what's before them, as the wind shifts a bit.

• Rycael continues in her sprint to get a better aim...

• From the woods to the west, three more wolves appear, just as large and vicious and... something more. One or two of their number appears to be foaming at the mouth just a bit! They're on Makin, Throm, and their horses!

• The Gnome moves with a patently unruly speed one she's hopped down. Both hands on her longsword - she barrels up the opposite side of Throm's wagon to hack at the wolf... It even works. The sword digs into the wolf's flank quite nicely. The Gnome letting out an excited howl in the process.

• "Get away from me horses ye damned curr!!!!!" Throm yells as he stands up on the seat and swings at the wolf with his axe.

• Makin slips off his horse, stepping toward the wagon, "LORD, AID MY COMPANIONS!: he lifts his shield and the three at he front plus the guards feel a wave of protection as Aid fills them.

• One of the guards scores a nice hit despite being beneath one of the wolves, who yelps in pain and gives him a chance to regain his feet.

• As Rand walks on in his steady pace, following the wagons and horses and guards oh my, he lifts his shield some and tries to see out in front of him as much as possible.

• After another 30 ft [150 ft from first wolves], Rycael finally seems satisfied with her distance and lets another arrow soar at the wolves attacking the guards... Once again, the GREAT ARCHER (though she doesn't claim the title aloud) misses her shot by aiming too short... she mutters a curse in elven...

• One of the wolves moves in behind a guard, and he goes down bewteen the attacks on two fronts... The others, one goes for Makin and the other Xerx! The wolf before Xerx snaps at naught but air, the other, however, tries to bowl Makin over... Makin goes down beneath the snapping jaws of the dire wolf, as it tries to latch on to him and tear him apart...

• The Gnome shifts her position just a little, then strikes out again with the longsword... And narrowly misses the thing.

• Throm is by no means about to give up, he hates anything dog like that attacks him and continues to try and lay into the beast with his axe. The damned thing is still standing despite the two massive wounds carved into it by the dwarf's blade "Yer a tough curr."

• Makin scoots backward on his butt out of reach of the wolf before rising to his feet.

• The lone standing guard lands a rather telling blow, but two of the wolves are focused completely on him now since his companion went down. The third wolf eyes Makin's horse...

• Rand is making his way slowly but surely, the tortoise under his shell, beating the sleeping hare on his way to the battle ahead.

• Rycael runs forward yet again, this time going for near point blank range…

• The remaining guard goes down under the onslaught of the two dire wolves. One goes after Makin's horse, who bolts and leaves it snapping at air, the other two attacking Throm and Xerx.

• Again Xerx manages to stay unharmed, but Throm is knocked back on his arse by the ferocity of the dire wolf he so... direly... injured.

• Her swing goes a long way - the Gnome's blade buries itself deep in the shoulder, through into it's chest. Leaving a wound that spurted blood freely behind it.

• The dire wolf howls and flinches from the blow...

• Throm gets back up to his feet with a curse and swings his axe at it again furiously.

• The wolf snaps at air and Throm is on his feet again.

• With a roar the dwarf brings the huge axe up and down in a over head blow that drives the wold into the road with a shower of blood.

• The wolf twitches its last.

• Makin scrambles up onto the wagon.

• From there, he prays, "Lord father, bring forth companions to aid us in our efforts." and summoned celestials begins to form near the fallen guards.

• One guard remains still, the other is nearly done, and one of the wolves turns to look at the rest of you, but the other gets stuck by the guard, and hops back with a yelp, giving him a chance to stand, albeit barely...

• Rand finally makes it onto the scene, somewhat. After his march under his shield being held above his head in both hands he has brought himself close enough to assess the situation. The shield slips onto his left arm as the morningstar comes up in his right hand. "Wolves.. big wolves."
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Mon Mar 30, 2015 3:58 pm

Session 2

• Rycael lets two arrows fly at the wolf nearest her. One of her arrows even hits, though her grin is hidden behind her mask.

• The arrow draws the wolf's attention as it hops up in pain and spots Rycael. It dashes at her then, jaws snapping. The pair to the north close on the final guard but he somehow fends them off, meanwhile, Xerx has her hands full.

• Rycael manages to keep her feet despite the lunging jowls of the wolf, but she doesn't avoid getting clamped by them, well and good!

• Xerx is knocked back while the dire wolf tears at her leg!

• She utters a brief word over a pendant while she was on the ground. Then carefully shuffles herself back from the jaws at swordpoint and hauls herself up.

• For those of you bit by the dire wolves, you notice they seem extra lean and half-starved, their bites leave wounds that feel super hot.

• Not about to let the curr eat his little companion there Throm spins on his heel rather quickly for someone so stout and tries to get it's attention with his axe!

• It would seem that wolf wasn't expecting to be attacked by the almost comical expression on it's face as the one blow that did strike cleaved into the back of it's skull, making it drop Xerx as it dropped.

• Rand picks up a small jog. but then it seems he kind of stops at the end of it intending to walk again. This really wasn't his way of doing things, but he didn't want to be left behind.

• Rycael realizes that perhaps she’d moved too close, deciding to move behind the dwarf that had already downed two of the wolves.

• As Rycael withdraws, the wolf that was attacking her dashes forward with him, so, while Rycael avoids further attacks from it for the moment, it is uncertain how long she can keep running from it. There is a madness in the wolves' eyes and one of them even cocks its head up from attacking a guard and seems to consider also running after Rycael. In fact, it does!

• Throm is attacked by the last of the three wolves, but ready for it this time the dwarf doesn't get knocked over. The wolf tears into Throm despite his stalwart stance. Those are mighty nice calves on that dwarf, and the wolf is making a meal of them. Throm is lucky not to be hamstrung. The wound burns unnaturally hot and hurts like blazes too.

• And she has a wolf in her face again. Great. Well she also had a sword ready to attend to that problem.

• Not the most elegant of arcs, but she HAD just gotten back to her feet. The Gnome does manage to get the sword to dig into the wolf's back though. Probably just pissed it off.

• "Oh YE WANT SOME TOO???!!!" Throm roars back at the mongrel tearing at him and wheels around bringing his axe down twice at it.

• The wolf dances about but is looking visibly weaker as its wounds begin taking their toll.

• "Is your mate alive still?!" Makin yells toward the guard as he steps back to draws flames from the sunlight about him into a ball which he release toward the wolf before him.

• "H...he's n...not moving..." is the strained reply as the guard tries to stand.

• Despite the dramatics of Makin's magic the spell does little more than singe the hair of the wolf as it sidesteps the spell. A little yelp escapes its jowls.

• The one guard rises unsteadily and moves over to check on his comrade, who lies still. "He's bleeding out!" the guard calls to Makin. "What do I do?" His attempts to stabilize his comrade aren't working, apparently.

• "Healing potion, Healing Balm, Healing Salve.” Makin suggests, “Anything that will stop bleeding!"

• "I..." he looks around and makes a "wtf" face. "I don't have those!"

• Rand runs against his enemy the sun. It's bright, and hurts his sensitive eye condition, causing him to sprint with them closed as he takes a wild shot with his morningstar at a wolf with people already on it, kind of sort of hitting it.

• "Sorry..." Rycael mutters to Xerx, having accidentally drawn the wolf to her. The elf takes a few quick steps back and fires another two arrows at the wolf.

• "Ain nuthin' fer it- don' fret lass." Honestly she didn't seem worried - if anything the Gnome looked exhilarated. Caught up in the fight.

• One of the arrows sinks into the wolf's hide, the other second shooting right over the wolf's head.

• Now the wolves are near mindless in their assault. They tear into whatever's closest to them with reckless abandon.

• This mutt certainly seems to want the dwarf to kill it, all this biting and gnawing at him…

• The wolves tear into the party, blood and bits of dwarf and gnome go flying. But wait! It would seem that despite the wolf's aggression Xerx avoids damage... for now…

• What with there being not one but two of them right in her face she continues to try to put one of the dogs down - whichever seems most wounded... And manages to finish one of them off. The longsword slides in between two ribs just behind the foreleg and meets no resistance burying itself to the hilt. There's a sickening wet 'schluck' sound as it's pulled loose.

• Just getting angrier at the thing, Throm continues to whirl the axe up and around over his head and crashing back down at the wolf "Go chase a rabbit ye MUTTT!!!"

• Throm lands another, more telling blow on the beast sicking the blade deep into it's back with the first blow but misses it with his next.

• Makin takes to foot, skirting around the wolf and quickly sprinting toward the guards. He slides to a stop, dropping a healing balm. "There!"

• He looks up to Makin... "What?" he cries in a near-panic, not seeing the balm. "Where?"

• Rand, entirely done with the sunlight, says a word in under and a moment later his body and especially his eyes, are clasped in metal with a suit of blackened full plate including a helmet with tiny slits for eyes. Now armored and with morning star and shield he sort of just stands there.

• Rycael lets another two arrows fly at the nearest wolf. Rycael's first arrow sinks into the side of the wagon, but the one following arrow sinks deeply into the wolf's eye!

• With a howl the wolf shot by Rycael lies still. A lone wolf remains. With abandon it tears into Xerx, or at least tries to... but the gnome is too nimble for its berserker rage...

• True to how she's handled the last set trying to gnaw on her curiously tinted skin she sidesteps, takes a nice overhand swing with the longsword (short as it is for her race) and cuts the beast across it's shoulder. Though not as deep as she'd like.

• Seeing the wolf drop with a pair of arrows in it Throm, snorts and trods around the one he felled to get at the one critter still alive, for the moment anyways, and takes a swing at it.

• Sadly the cut is a shallow one, failing to bite deeply into the mutt.

• Makin kneels, laying a hand on the fallen guard. "Amaunator, God of the Eternal Sun, Lord of the Lawful, Bringer of Order from Chaos, Father of Time Immemorial, let your light heal this stout defender of life."

• Breath comes in a deep, rasping gasp as the guard regains consciousness.

• The other guard says, "Damn it Jeffries! You're alive!" Hugs ensue.

• "What're ye on about?" Jeffries pushes the other guard off. "I ain't like that!"

• Rand takes a clumsy step angled at the wolf, stumbles a bit, and plants his morningstar seemingly accidentally right in the thing's crown knocking it's jaw to the dirt.

• The final wolf falls!

• "Swords to hands as you are able. There is still wolves to be handled.... " he looks.. "or not."

• Jeffries looks to Makin. "Hey uh.. thanks," he says, standing, albeit a bit shakily.

• "I *told* you them wolves was out here Jeffries," the other guard says quietly, helping his comrade to his feet.

• Just as soon as the beast is dead the full plate armor disappears and the man, looking twice his age for wear,stands huffing in place, putting his shield and weapon to their slings. He seems somewhat injured as well, though he's not paying much mind to it. "Bastards..." He speaks between breath. "Too bright for that shit."

• "Are you alright? Any injuries?"

• Both guards are bloodied up but they will live. Though one looks a bit pale.

• Rycael frowns, looking around at the fallen wolves, {sylvan} “Nature take the spirits of this mighty pack, even as the cycle claims their bodies.”

• You'd expect him to be happy the thing was dead, but from the scowl on his face as the dwarf glares up at the formerly armored figure, that isn't happy "Well Bless me Soul?? Look who finally decided ta grace us with his presence and save us from our sorry fate?"

• Makin carefully moves to inspect the wolves.

• "You're welcome." Rand’s lost about half his vitality in the small mix, and the sarcasm isn't really lost on him, but really the man is hurting from more than his injuries out here. He doesn't have the want or energy to argue, and so he just simply begins walking again the direction they were heading.

• "Likely some form of Filth Fever. Will want anyone who was injured to get checked out soon."

• The last one being down the Gnome works on cleaning her rather well gore painted sword off. A very simple incantation muttered over it that saw it wipe itself spotless through the course of a few moments. She too looked like she had one decent scrape on her shoulder but frankly that was the worst of it, and it didn't bear the angry red outline of some of today's other wounds. As to Rand.. "The heck kept ya?"

• He shakes his head, spits on the dead wolf before turning around to start drag the bodies off the road and out of the way.

• Might not do to leave diseased carcasses lying about...

• "Fatigue" He says single wordedly as he continues to walk.

• Rycael sits on the edge of the wagon and takes a look at the wound she'd taken.

• "We should burn the bodies, or we may have an out break on our hand of infected wild life."

• The Gnome is right there helping with the bodies - surprisingly able in regards to mustering enough muscle to tug all that meat out of the way.

• You do understand, however, that some diseases may incubate for a few days, so you know to be watchful over the next week or so.

• The wolves are all moved off into a pile on the side of the road. What now?

• Rycael takes a waterskin and pours some water over the wound and wraps some cloth around it.

• It stings more than a little but the compress helps keep it stable.

• "Probably a good idea there." he says in agreement "Tha things were not right." he starts checking his own bite wounds with a frown "God's I hate mutts."

• "Just a little wood." Makin begins to drag fallen wood around the beasts carcases.

• Rand does help, though he's slow about it. Moving wolf bodies, and wood. He keeps to himself mostly, not bothering to put anything over his own wounds as he lets them run free. Just simply laboring silently with them.

• Makin walks around, laying a hand on the wounded who welcome it. Each gets a Lesser Vigor, lasting 17 rounds and thus healing 17 pts of damage.

• Rand just sort of moves away from the hands of healing as though they dripped a poison. Not speaking up if he doesn't have to. He just looks ever so tired.

• He thanks the cleric for the healing as he also helps to build a pyre for the bodies, then taps a bracelet on his wrist activating it's healing energies.

• Once we have collected enough wood, Makin can set them ablaze with a few fiery bursts until the fire is burning lively.

• The Gnome's wounds were still open for that matter - but they also didn't seem to be doing a great deal of bleeding. Shallow as they were. She just helps pile the bodies rather quietly and then rubs that spot on her shoulder some. "Blasted things were a bit on tha nasty side.."

• Not a fan of the fire itself Rand moves away as it starts. He moves up the trail and finds some shade to wait for them to be ready to move again.

• Rycael nods her thanks to the sun-shaman.

• Testing her wound as she stands, though it faded away, Rycael walks over to the fire, muttering in sylvan with her mask over her face.

• "Come on folks, get in tha wagon and let's get on to town before anything else wanders by?" Throm suggests walking back to his wagon and checking on the horses.

• "Aye, what he said,” Xerx agrees. Throm finds himself getting an appreciative pat on the.. well, whatever the Gnome could reach as she walked by to go climb back into the cart.

• "You two good for getting back to the city?" he asks of the guards?

• The diseased carcasses burn, and the guards thank you. "Pretty sure there was a standing reward for dispatching those beasts," one of them mentions.

• "Yeah, we're due to be relieved any time," the other one replies.

• Pauses, half turns with a grin and pats Xerx on the shoulder "Ye swing a mean blade Lassy."

• "Be safe." Makin says as he mounts back up.

• The solemn cry of a lone wolf echoes down the hillside, but nothing seems to come of it.

• Throm looks off into the woods like he sees something, then once the howl fades he mutters under his breath and climbs up back to his driver’s seat on the wagon.

• Rand doesn't seem to mind the cart idea. He willingly pulls himself up inside and covers his face with his shield.

• Xerx’d curl herself up over the edge a bit, trying to squint at what the dwarf sees. "Wha's got ya riled up Throm?"

• Rycael seems to look off to the forest's edge for a long moment, then she nods, not seeming surprised in the least by the howl.

• "Were you interested in the reward for the killing of these beasts?" Makin asks of his companions.

• Points off the way he was staring "Twas a grey, wolf off watching, fair bit larger then any of these curs I can tell ye." and gets the wagon rolling once more "Somethings afoot round here thats fer sure."

• "Well yeh,” Xerx says to Makin, “need ta get back ta civilization ta collect though don' we?"

• Throm agrees. "I'm always up fer claiming a reward, which I imagine we can claim when we reach town."

• Rycael comments ,{elven accented common} "Reward is renewed purity of nature."

• "I will do what you wish." Makin says to the others. "There is a mother looking for her son, or follow the wolves."

• Throm shakes his head "Head on to town, we have a job ta do first, we can go chasing after wolves latert ifin your still wanting to?"

• {Elven accented common} "While I wish to find what wrong with pack, the missing human is in danger maybe, yes?" Rycael says.

• "Aye - might be the same cause too. Could be tha boy leads us ta what's up with tha wolves." Xerx adds.

• "And sleeping beauty,” Makin comments, “... does not seem to care. To town it is."

• It's true that Rand shows no signs of caring. Not even a wiggle of his booted toe can be seen one way or the other.

• You continue on, pushing yourself to march until sundown. The last few hours sees the landscape change to that of coastal plains. Solitary trees and golden grasses dot the landscape and the rolling hills are clear for miles. To the west you can see the sea still, in the distance, but the air does not quite carry its scent as strongly this far inland. As you come over a rise, the sun disappears beneath the sea at last, and you see below you the small hamlet of Rassalantar. Lights flicker on here and there in the twilight.

• The small community of Rassalantar consists of six walled farms spread across flat, coastal plains, about forty miles north of Waterdeep proper. The farms center around a spring-fed pond which drains into a stream and empties to the east into what looks like a sprawling marsh. To the west of the farmhouses, a narrow patch of trees obscures your view of whatever lies beyond. From what you were told, that building to the east of the pond must be the Sleeping Dragon.

• As night becomes, Rand awakens. Blinking somewhat his eyes open fully, not just slits, but with dilated pupils. He sits up appearing somewhat more his youthful age as he looks around freely now without the seeming weight on his shoulders. "Huh, kind of pretty out here."
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Mon Mar 30, 2015 3:59 pm

Session Three

• As you approach the building, you see its well-tended wooden walls, dark with layers of golden color in the right light, the varnish most likely. The roof is slate tile and looks relatively new. The front of the building seems to also look just a bit newer than the rest, as if remodeled at some point. The inn is equipped with stables and privies, and both the east and west walls of the main building have chimneys. Its main door is at the southeast corner, and the main fireplace is on the west wall. To the right of the fireplace is a board where bills, bounties, and job postings are listed.

• As you enter, you notice the bar which runs halfway along the northern wall, with a rare large mirror behind it and high stools. The kitchen looks to be off on the east side of the building, accessible through an archway. The east wall of the main room has cloak pegs, crates, barrels and stairs up to the upper floor. Up against the southern wall are nine long tables with benches, and the middle of the room is filled with round tables and chairs. A short, muscular man tends the bar.

• Rycael looks around curiously as she enters, {elven accented common} "This no dragon..." she mutters.

• Throm's first priority is getting the horses stabled and taken care of for the evening before making his way into the place and looking it over to see where his party has set themselves up?

• The stablehand takes Throm and Makin's horses as well as pointing out a covered area to park the wagon. He assures them the horses will be fed and groomed and listens attentively to any special instructions they give him regarding the animals' care.

• Rycael stays near the door, though out of the way of people coming and going. It would seem she's not entirely comfortable with crowds yet, though she's not wearing her mask at present.

• The Gnome wasn't far from Throm while he went about his business with the horses. Either way they eventually work their way to the inn proper. "Could use a bit a puttin my feet up.. How 'bout you?"

• Animal's stabled, wagon parked so with pack slung over his shoulder he marches to the tavern , coming to a stop short of the door he looks at the elf and snorts "Dinna jus stand there Lass?? Get in , tha place isna goingta eat ye."

• To his Gomish companion he nods "Aye and an ale or two at tha least."

• Rycael glances down at the dwarf before following him to the bar. She watches over the whole of the room, as if silently gauging possible threats.

• The Gnome's feet thump a little heavier than they ought to with each step, and she seems not to worry about getting her boots off early. "Ale, some kinda stew maybe.. then figure out who ta ask what an when."

• Hungry and thirsty as he is Throm opts to go check the bulletin board and see what's posted?

• Realizing Throm hadn't gone to the bar, Rycael turns mid step towards the board.

• As Throm goes over the board, most of the postings are for jobs in the area, most labor- oriented. He does spot the handbill with the order on a pack of 3-5 "giant wolves" said to be menacing the road between Rassalantar and Waterdeep. "See Thrun at the Sleeping Dragon to collect" it says at the bottom.

• The Gnome however went to the bar. "Ey! Could use a round, an somethin hearty ta go with it. If ya got anythin of tha sort?"

• The short man eyes down his nose at the gnome with a smirk. "Oh yeah? Ol' Thrun' here's got just the thing." He calls over his shoulder. "Molly get the lil' one and her mates a couple pitchers o’ my own Sleeping Dragon Dark." He bops the bar with his fist. "Put hair in yer ears, it will."

• "Got some veal stew, taters and boar sausages, even some freshwater fish from Ironford, that jes came in this morn."

• "Sausages 'n potatoes. An' the hairy ears thing already runs in tha family - men's side though." She'd end up grinning a bit, right as she got to climbing up into a seat. Hands up on the bar to pull herself up, right along with the bizarrely discolored knuckles and veins of green around them.

• Thrun takes their orders in turn and soon enough, a short-haired brunette eventually brings two pitchers of thick, dark beer and a slew of glasses, as well as their food. Thrun passes by every so often and fills his own pint glass from their pitchers.

• "Good stuff," he nods, tipping the cup to them and moving on to tend the other patrons.

• Losing interest in the post board, Rycael makes her way back to the bar again with the gnome. "Hello." she says simply to the bartender as she sits upon a stool. With a nod to Xerx, she glances over what she'd ordered with a curious look.

• It doesn't take him long to peruse the postings so the dwarf is soon on his way back. Reaching the bar and looks at the large human "You Thrun? When those two fella's patrolling tha road get back we'll be claiming tha reward fer tha wolves. Saved their bacon from getting turned inta dog food by tha damned things."

• So, Xerxsephira Griphlik Rustgore for short, what is that?" asks Rycael.

• "I am Thrun. Thrun Samallahan. Proprietor of the Sleeping Dragon. What two fellers? You mean Jameson and Jeffries?"

• It's not as though it's all that exotic - she called for stew, potatoes, sausages- oh and ale. All of which the elf clearly needs. The green-knuckled gnome looks them over, then looks at Rycael- "S'food. Though I can see as ya might never have seen proper food a'fore."

• Throm nods, "Aye thats the two, damned lucky they were we came along or those wolves would still be chewing on their bones right now beside tha road."

• Rycael blinks, "Proper food? I know how to hunt." she states simply.

• Thrun gives Xerx a pat on the shoulder. "You should listen to her, dearie, she knows her stuff." He leans in to the gnome. "You let ol' Spider know if ye needs anythin' else. He stands at Throm's comment. "That so?" he asks. "How many of 'em were there?"

• Glancing to their dwarven friend, Rycael frowns, {elven accented common} "Wolves were sick and desperate. Was not their fault."

• "Heh, well then dig in. Sorry, met a few sorts turn their nose up 'bout tavern food, specially this one lady at the circus back in Athkatla.." The hand on her shoulder is patted right back - which again feels just a touch off. Far too strong for a Gnomish girl, harder skin, and a lot heavier then is normal. "Will do, 'n thanks."

• He glances at Rycael. "Figgers," he nods.

• He holds up five fingers "That many of them and big ones they were, took more then a few whacks ta put them down, and tha Elf Lass is right, something twas wrong with them."

• The elf raises a brow at Thrun, "I not say fingers...?" looking somewhat confused.

• He nods. "Alright. Sounds right by all counts. If ye has plans te stay the night, see me in the morn after I've confirmed yer claims. I'll have a bit of something for you."

• Rycael gives the confusing human a slow nod, before picking up a glass of the ale and sniffing it...

• Taking up one of the ales Throm nods "Aye tha we will be. By tha by have ye hada young, fella pass thru here lately?" his eyes already on the food even as he asks.

• "Err.. while we've got yer attention,” Xerx adds, “those wolves the only reason folks 'been goin missin around here? We're tryin' ta figure out what happened to a lad name a Jayce."

• Thrun shrugs. "Lotsa folks pass through here fella," he says. "Jayce..." he thinks, hand to chin. "Jayce... Can't say it rings a bell lass," he admits. "Lotsa would-be adventurers pass under my lintel. Can't say I pay much attention to them after they've gone." He lingers though, instead of moving off as might be expected.

• "T'weren't tha long back,” Xerx adds, “was comin' through here ta do a job a some sort? Prob'ly ordered tha veal."

• "Lotsa jobs what need doin', too," he thumbs in the direction of the bill board with a grin. "Why should it matter to me?"

• "Maybe six suns ago?" Rycael offers a little help, before taking a carefull sip of the ale... which causes her eyes to get wide as she sets the mug down.

• Throm chuckles at the Elf's expression while he tries some of the sausage between gulping the ale himself.

• Thrun seems to be lingering in that way inkeepers will when there's coin to be made...

• Eyeing the mug warily, the elf takes a small bite of sausage. Though apparently far from what she's used to, at least it seems to agree with her.

• Throm digs into his coin pouch and holds up a couple gold pieces "Ye look like ye might be recalling something there."

• Thrum eyes the gold. "Not sure," he shrugs.

• Noticing the exchange, the elf leans over to Xerx, "What they doing?" she whispers as she watches them.

• "Well, he-" Xerx points at the innkeeper. Then more or less whispers the rest. Mostly. "Wants somethin' afore he'll tell what 'e knows 'bout the boy. An considerin' what an innkeep makes in a year he's bein damn greedy 'bout it too."

• “Maybe what you’re looking for can be found by asking after the regulars, but I didn’t tell you that and there mostly miserable sods.” His hand pockets the gold in a movement that's not easy to follow. He moves off, disinterested, but every once in a while you can feel his eyes on you.

• Rycael tilts her head, not bothering to whisper now, "Gold really that important to humans that they keep one of thier cubs in danger to get more?"

• Throm shrugs and digs out his pipe and start packing it "He doesna see tha kid as one of his."

• Xerx took a slow breath, and a look about the room. "An yes, it really is. Comin' from the city a' coin an' all ya get a good sense a that."

• Rycael frowns, "The boy is human, yes? Wolves sometimes take in stray to strengthen pack" She takes another small bite of the sausage.

• As the plates empty along with the pitchers, Thrun eventually makes his way back around to their table. "Stayin' the night?" Thrun asks them, glancing first at Throm.

• The Gnome gives him a quick nod. "Prob'ly, aye. Need someplace ta start from."

• Throm hands Thrun him his empty plate and nods "Aye, twas long ride here, and I'm bout ready fer a nap soon." glances around the place to check the other faces in the tavern.

• "What makes ye think yer man even passed through here?" he asks them, putting a few coins on the table. By the looks of it, it's change from what Throm gave him, "minus the food, drink, and the night's stay," he says.

• He passes the plate over his shoulder to Molly who's suddenly there.

• The elf tilts her head as the human gives coins back to the dwarf. Rycael seems rather confused at this.

• "Well tha Lad's mother hired us ta find him and she sent us this way ta start lookin fer him>"

• "Told ye he was here, did she?" he asks. "Only people linger here are Molly an' I." He thumbs over his shoulder at Molly, who is there behind him. "And Chet," he says, his finger up. "People come and go from here every day."

• Thrun almost laughs to himself. "What was he about? Why was he out here? Where was he goin?" He pours the last of their pitcher into his own glass.

• "Mary say he on assignment." The elf recalls with a glance to the others.

• Throm wasn't there for most of the conversation with the woman.

• "Well that's a start," he says with a smile. "Look, aside from the occasional Lone Wanderer," he says, "Which if 'is mommy is after 'im I doubt that description'd fit their bill, only mentionable's a Wands expedition headed up to Ridgeline Camp less'n a tenday ago." Molly finishes picking up their plates and cups.

• Rycael smiles apologetically when Molly finds her mug still mostly full. "Wands?" she tilts her head.

• "And what were tha Wands doing up there?" Throm asks.

• "Oh sorry miss," Molly smiles, "Thought ye were done." She leaves the mug there.

• "Sounds like a place ta start anyway. Anyone come back from tha' camp since?" - After which she comments to Rycael. "Family a humans from Waterdeep. Big important one."

• The elf shakes her head, "Am done... The water... not taste like water?..." she tries to explain with a small smile.

• Glancing back to Xerx, "Alpha pack?"

• "Not that was with Lord Wands. Wait a minute," his brow knits. "It were Lord Jason Wands," he says to them. "He's through here alla time though, diggin' up this rock and that. An' 'is mom ain't no Mary, that's fer sure." Was that a coloring brought to his cheeks?

• Most of the patrons had either retired upstairs or left the inn altogether by this time. There were perhaps a straggler or two and the party, Molly, and Thrun. Molly yawns.

• Gnome shrugs briefly. "Kinda? Waterdeep's got a few a' those. Tha's one of em though."

• He looks over at the serving girl with a chuckle "Ye have to excuse my Elf friend there Lass, she's not used ta ale is all."

• "Yeah yeah Mols," Thrun nods. "We're bout to call it a night." He tosses several keys on the table, produced from who-knows-where. "Maker yerselves comfy and I'll see y'all in the morning. I'll draw up a quick map to the camp and talk with Jeffries and his lot about them wolves. See me before ye leaves."

• Rycael looks back to the man, "You catch sick?" she asks awkwardly, though with the best of intentions.

• Having no idea what Rycael meant, Thrun just acts like she said it to someone else and heads to the back with Molly. Dishwashing sound effects ensue.

• The elf frowns as her concern is ignored.

• "Dinna worry bout it Lassy." he tries to explain to Ryceal "They dinna stay open all night, they're heading ta bed themselves once they finish cleaning up tha kitchen"

• "An we ought ta do the same. Need some rest and maybe a chance ta study tha' map."

• Thrun peeks head out from the back, "Rooms are upstairs, of course," he says with a nod to the stairway.

• Rycael nods slowly, then blinks "Bed?" She asks, obviously one to sleep in a tree or something.

• The upper level consists of a short hallway with doors to several rooms, and windows overlooking the entrance. Your rooms are simple and consist of a double bed, a wardrobe, a chair, a small soapstone wash basin, a chamberpot, and a window with a ledge wide enough to sit on.

• He has to laugh now, a deep belly laugh as he lights his pipe, then to Xerx "Looks like ye get ta explain wha tha is to her lassy."

• The night is long and your rest undisturbed. Eventually, deep trance or slumber comes to you all.
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Mon Mar 30, 2015 4:00 pm

Session Four

• Having received directions from Thrun on how to reach Ridgeside Camp, you make your way east and toward a more dense area of wilderness, leaving the marshlands to your north and rising steadily into the foothills as you travel.

• Rycael seemed right at home in the wilderness, her bow ready in her hand as her falcon mask rests upon her face.

• Makin does his morning prayers as the sun rises. You really do not want to watch him doing his morning prayers, it is overly cheerful and obscene with praise of all things light related. But he does them, as always.

• The Gnome looked glad to be outside. Marching along happily - with a sword on her back. "Love this sorta thin.. when it doesn' end in werewolves 'n shit."

• Marching alongside the gnome, Throm has his axe strapped over his back and his shield and hammer in hand looking around as they make their way

• Rand walks in the shade of man and beast once again. A shield on his back, a morningstar on his side, and a few new purchased potions on his person.

• Rycael glances back at the gnome, her head tilted slightly in confusion, but she lets that go in favor of watching their surroundings.

• Makin rides along, watching over his companions. "So.. where is it this map leads again? To an encampment of Wands?"

• The trees begin to crowd in but there is a clear path that looks big enough for a wagon. In fact, the way is quite clear.
• Perfect, Rand can walk close enough to the tree line to not have light in his face. His eyes are dilated with large pupils and do not close normally to light making him rather sensitive to it. Even in the light of day his irises are stretched thin. It effects Rand's disposition and makes him rather moody and lethargic, but he wants to accomplish his mission it seems as he only appears to have a problem with the light, not so much the trudging.

• "Tiss what the fellow running tha Dragon said, only lot that wasn't just passing thru town."

• "Wands? The house? Camping?" He blinks a few times seeming rather incredulous.

• Xerx was well into the light - which would occasionally glint off her arms and knuckles in particular. "Shocking, innit? Can' wait ta see this."

• "That lot?” Makin wonders, “I assume some sort of magical mansion? How far per the map? We almost there yet? How much farther?"

• "Wands alpha pack are shamans?" Rycael asks, glancing back at them again.

• "Must be getting close,” Makin hopes, “It has been hooours." Makin slumps, picking boredly at t he stitching on his saddle.

• The elf frowns at Makin, "You too used to making animals walk for you." she states.

• Rand introspectively has a debate with himself most of the trip. Looking at the others now and again to make sure no one hears his thoughts, though he isn't speaking.

• "You know it gets farther and farther each time ye ask about it.?" Throm taunts the fellow

• Rycael …not looking the least bit fatigued, even though she'd walked since they left Waterdeep, though her frown is hidden by her mask...

• "Uh.. yeah, close 'enough." Xerx’d shrug about that question. "Annoyin' ones. Heh. Think they're all important.."

• "Alphas important." Rycael states to Xerx, "They lead pack..."

• "Horses are made for walking,” Makin mentions, “thats just what they are going to do. Maybe a horse can walk all over with you." He takes a sip from a flask from the lining of his cloak.

• Rand asks suddenly, "Don't savages also ride horses?"

• That makes Rycael stop and turn to face Rand, "Some times, maybe. My tribe respect animals."

• Makin says, ”Most folk ride hoses... or camels. We there yet?"

• "Some of em - others 're jes related to he alphas. Think they're big shit cuz their mum er dad's halfway useful." That got Xerx shaking her head some. "Err.. I better stay in the cart.. heavier 'n I look."

• ”Tha describes a fair number of Tall Folk back in Waterdeep,” Throm says.

• After Rand is silent for a time, Rycael returns her attention to the path ahead. Though her expression was still hidden by her mask, she seemed annoyed. At least enough to be silent for the rest of the trip.

• In a few hours you come to a clearing, from there, which looks like a commonly used campground. Signs of recent and regular use abound, most likely for those not wont to spend their coin at the Sleeping Dragon or perhaps not desiring contact with the traffic in an out of Rassalantar. There is a wagon in the clearing and a pair of horses tied not far off. There is motion near the wagon and you see an older gentleman bearing a polearm suddenly stand up.

• “Who goes there?” he asks you, leveling the weapon, barely, in your direction.

• Rand just grumbles. He didn't have much respect for the elderly. He decided talking to the old man was anyone else's job.

• Rycael moves back from her position at the front of the group, letting the others speak. Yeah, she was annoyed. However, she rests her bow across her back, though she could probably get to it quickly if needed.

• "Greetings and salutations!" Makin says cheerfully, "We come in search of an errant son. Have you perhaps seen such a lad about?"

• “You stand in the presence of Geornan Barnes, man in service to House Wands. What errant son do you speak of?” He sounds very official.

• Comes to a stop and looks at the man but lets the cleric do the talking for the moment.

• "Lad's name is Jayce. His mother ... I believe it was Mary, is looking for him. Was supposed to be back in the city some time ago."

• He tilts his head and scrunches his face. "Jayce?" He shakes his head. "Can't say I know him."

• Makin looks at the others, "His mother said he had requested his favorite stew."

• The Gnome walked up rather without any fear to it. "Ey! Ello there!" Walks right up and plants her hands on her hips. "Ye don'?" Then a glance at Makin.. "Wha he said. Boy's mum's worried."

• The man sets the polearm upright. "Ye can share the camp but I'll be damned if I seen no boy name of Jayce about the camp. Just us and Lord Wands."

• Rycael’s arms are crossed as she leans against a nearby tree, surveying the entirety of their surroundings... though her gaze seems to avoid Rand.

• "Jayce.. jay - Jason.. ar-somethin." She knitted her brow up a little. Knocking her hand to her forehead, which had a bizarrely metallic sound. "Arnaut."

• Rand doesn't seem to notice much of the ongoings. He's found shade, and refuses to pay attention to anything in the light. He's listening sometimes, but usually just kind of spaced out.

• Throm Shieldbreaker: The dwarf mutters something bout next time bringing a diviner with them.

• “Ye means Lord Jason Arnaut Geoloain Wands,” the man corrects. “Who’d ye say sent ye?”

• Makin answers, ”Mary. His apparent mother."

• “Mary?” he looks dumbfounded, but his tacit demeanor melts. “Ah, Mary. Look, I dun’ much do more’n drive a wagon for Lord Wands,” he explains. “Truf’ be tol’, I was set fer lookin’ fer ‘im at dawn, I was.” He points at his toe. “Blasted draft bitch smushed me big toe,” he explains. “Been layin’ low as the Lord ordered. Otherwise I’d be up there wif’ ‘em. Weren’t the first time ol’ ‘Elga stepped on me, but boy it smarts the most!” He knocks back his liquid pain-killer. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Lord Jag,” he says. “Man can ‘andle ‘isself.”

• "Up where? Any idea what he is up to? Any sort of trouble he might have gotten into? As your toe shows, it does not take a great deal to incapacitate."

• “He set off for a bunch o’ rocks,” he thumbs over his shoulder. “Sez t’me ‘Geornan, if I’m not bek in a week come get meh.’” He chuckles. “Last time it were two. But really, I can’t go nowhere like this.” He points at his foot.

• The little thing tucked her arms behind her head. "Jag. Jayce. Jason.. no wonder thin's confusin'. Err.. ya think it'll be a problem if we come with ta look?"

• Rand rolls his big eyes, off a ways, just overhearing the geezer whine.

• "Perhaps a bit of healing, to help out that toe of yours?" Makin slips down off his mount, "If that is alright with you, I should be able to get you patched up."

• "Well if'n yer inclined, mister," he says to Makin. "I have nothing with which to pay you, now, know it."

• The Gnome just smiles at him.. bright thing, that. "Enh, if ya can help us find 'im we'll call it even Barnes."

• There is a low rumbling to the northeast.

• Throm says, “I imagine a simple thank ye will have him over joyed."

• "Helping others is why I am." he smiles, removing a slim wand and tapping the elderly man's foot.

• Geornan turns at the noise and points. "Look!" He indicates a large rock outcropping through the clearing in the trees. It seems like a giant rectangular boulder spikes its way into the sky, tilted at a forty-five degree angle to the right. It looks to be about 2 hours hike from here. Dust is rising on the east side of that rock formation, sounds like that’s where the commotion is.

• "I hope that was your stomach Throm,” that from Makin.

• “That be where Lord Jag went,” Geornan points. “Dun’ look like the wagon’s fer it though, I’ll have ta wait fer ya here.”

• Brave, this one.

• Throm shakes his head "Nope twasn't me, likely our Lord Jag gone and gotten inta a bind from tha sound of it."

• Rycael glances in that direction, retrieving her bow as she did.

• "Suppose we should make our way?" Makin grins, "Mind if I leave my Nahundi here with you?"

• "That way then?" He seemed pretty eager to be away from this spot.

• "Ye kin tie off with the others," he points absently, moving back to where he'd sat earlier.

• "Good idea horse will jus et in the way ifin we have ta go under ground?"

• "We ah.. we might wanna hurry?" Which she says while she starts heading for it. "Aye, or up too steep."

• Rycael Irra: Rycael begins to make her way towards the commotion, though she remains within sight of the party.

• You move off camp once read, the foothills begin to slope more and the trees are widely interspersed. The tall grass is dry and a dark bronze color. It does not impede your progress, but foxtails and whatnot.

• Makin makes a few quick words toward his horse in Midani, "Stay. Guard." he points toward the old man. "Guard."

• As Xerx suggested, Rycael's pace was indeed quickened.

• You've traveled for about an hour now.

• Ogres...." Rycael speaks just loud enough for the others to hear, nocking an arrow and pointing with her bow.

• And the Gnome sneers.. "Giants."

• A trio of Ogres continue their descent to their current position on the map.

• Rycael moves behind a tree, leaning against it and readying a shot, though she waits for them to get closer.

• Also, as Rycael pointed out, a trio of ogres are moving quickly down the hill just to the north of you. They are still well above you, and do not see you yet. They are about one hundred meters from you. It will be hard for them to miss you in this open space.

• Xerx is hoping for getting the drop on them of course, but one has to be ready for the alternatives. She'd take up residence behind a tree as well, then go over a short incantation.

• Makin chants quietly, asking for Amaunator to bless and protect them agianst the foes to come.

• In about the time it takes Rand to get his shield and morningstar ready he is wearing full plate armor he didn't have on a moment ago.

• Throm readies his weapons as well. The ogres continue down the hill.

• You see one of them point and another nod, they surely see you now. They glance back up the hillside and pound their chest at you, then move forward. All of them carry clubs and what looks like a javelin or two on their backs.

• Rycael leans from behind the tree, firing two arrows at the center ogre. The first arrow sinks into the ogre's arm, though the seccond hits its club. She moves behind the tree again.

• Xerx moves herself a short way further up and musters a second brief incantation.

• dThe ogre snarls as the arrow sinks in.

• Makin moves up, trying to stay in the center of the group, raising his crossbow and likewise fires off at the center ogre.

• Rand moves forward saying something in undercommon and staring at an ogre. Soon the thing has a very hard time with sight.

• "Can't see!" the ogre on the left puts its hands out as Rand’s incantation hits him.

• Throm moves ahead and readies himself against the coming of the ogres.

• "That one is blind. Ignore it until last. " Rand points.

• The elf nods, reaching for two more arrows.

• The middle ogre comes forward, but not in the lumbering, stupid way of the giant-kin. This one’s eyes are clear and alert and the words and hand gestures say something's not normal here...

• The air around you begins to glitter and shimmer with sparkling motes of fine dust... that wants to get in your eyes...

• "Ogres with magic?!" Throm says in disbelief

• Rycael and Rand avert their eyes but still stand in the affected circle of the spell. Meanwhile, another of the ogres waggles its fingers too, and a steaming bolt of green ichor sails toward the dwarf! Luckily for Throm, the missile sails overhead to splash and eat away the trunk of a nearby tree. The blinded ogre seems to realize what's happening to him as well, gets his bearings and likewise calls to his lips magic words, uttered in think but distinctly chondathan voice. A pair of force bolts slam into Rycael.

• "Ogre shamans!" Rycael shouts, moving to a different tree and sending another arrow at the center ogre, grunting in slight pain as the magic hit her while she moved.

• "And that ogre magi, just said, 'ignore that man, he is blind. save him for last." as Makin wipes at his eyes.

• The elf's arrow bites into the ogre's chest.

• Again with the magic. Well, at least this one was going to make shit happen faster. Literally

• Makin raises his shield, casting nimbus of light. He is already glowing, what is a little more?

• Rand steps up out of the glittering dust, his own shield up, words of a deep language echo inside his full heml and his body is blanketed in a darkness.

• Throm skirts around, following Rand.

• The middle ogre starts chanting again, and a searing line of heat comes forth from his palm at Xerx, as she was the closest threat to his blind comrade.

• The scorching hot Ray hits a tree instead of Xerx. Another volley of force missiles, this time from the blinded Ogre, and another from his mate.

• The left ogre hits Throm square as it comes forward, the blinded one does in fact connect with Rycael *this* time...

• Despite the damage, Rycael moves slightly forward to another tree for a better shot, letting yet another arrow fly at the red ogre. This time, her arrow bites slightly deeper into the ogre's arm.

• The Gnome has just about had it with the foreplay it seems - she heads right up to try to cleave meat from bone with that longsword, held in both hands. …Though perhaps a little over-eager. Her swing goes wide. (How the hell do you miss something that big?)

• The ogre steps back at just the right moment, a bit more in control perhaps than what one might expect.

• Since he is blind, Makin hunkers down, summoning his celestial companion, the bison. The light around him strengthens slightly.

• Rand decided to be a bit more frugal with his spells now that he was out of the dust and covered in night. He even moves a bit faster than with the wolves as he heads toward the ogres. However he's still in very heavy armor, so it's not a super fast sprint.

• With a clearly dwarven cry, Throm charges what's not the most wounded of the ogre trio... His wild swing goes wide...

• The Ogre, preoccupied with the gnome, tries to whack Xerx with its club... The club slams into the ground, but no Xerx. The blind one again tosses random missiles of force and shouts, "Is the elf dead?" But the missiles never connect. The last Ogre steps up and hurls a javelin at Throm!

• Rycael lets loose another two arrows at the red ogre, determined to bring it down even as she ducks under more missiles of fore. Lucky for the ogre, it had moved its club in her way at just the right moment as two more arrows sink into it.

• The sword swing from the Gnome goes a little wide again.. which in frustration causes her to slug it right in the kneecap with her currently stone formed arm.

• Makin's light intensifies a bit more as the Bison, known to those of the celestial realm as Hickok, forms up and charges the ogre. Makin meanwhile begins another casting of summoning spell. As the bison charges, the Ogre whirls on it with its club, whacking it across the face as it tries to barrel into it and causing the celestial bison to miss its charge.

• Rand moves up, the blanket of night around him, and posts behind a couple of trees looking out between them planning his next move.

• Throm lets loose with his axe, cursing and snarling in dwarven as is his custom
He hits nothing but air. “Moradin's beerbelly I kinnae hit an elf onna inside o' me tankard!"
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:44 am

Session 5

• The ogre in front of Throm and Xerx (and Makin's buh buh buffalo) steps back takes a deep breath, and sprays the trio with a gout of flame that spews forth from its mouth! The last ogre waggles his fingers one more time and a ray of scorching heat adds to the gout of flame spewed forth by his companion! The dwarf is blasted square in the chest as the ray superheats the air, his armor, and the dwarf!

• Rycael again moves from cover and fires off a pair of arrows at the closest ogre... Both arrows sail off target. One only just *barely* misses its target, the other not that far off.

• The Gnome is strangely unfazed by the flames. ..Though one doubts she'll be that lucky again. She doesn't waste the opportunity though - choosing to grip her sword in both hands and charge right for the red Ogre. Despite the gnome's stalwart bravery, the attack misses once more.

• The celestial bison gores at the ogre in fiery rage, the celestial firebeetle that just appeared likewise charges forward.

• As the bison charges and the firebeetle prods, the ogre swings back at them in kind. Both surprisingly miss!

• Makin meanwhile mutters to himself, praying for the blindness to life form his so his strikes against he enemy might be true.

• Rand takes a good jog around the flames, but he's not speedy by any means. A stout man in heavy armor with shield and morning star trying not to get burned.

• Nothing like having some orges try to cook one alive to aggravate a dwarf, especially the damage to his beard which has his charge right after the Gnome brandishing his axe for a swing at it's gut.

• Trailing smoke in his wake the dwarf's axe strike true caring a huge cash across the orges gut, severly wounding the thing.

• As Throm *nearly* downs the ogre, it's all it can do to swing back, slamming its club down toward the dwarf! The club glances off the dwarf’s armor.

• "Ye alright Throm?" She had to ask - the Dwarf had taken a sound thrashing in the last few seconds what with his beard suffering and then being clubbed by a giant smelly.. giant.

• The blinded ogre continues to flee deeper into the forest, uphill, while the second ogre looks toward Makin and charges, beetle be damned!

• The ogre's charge is unimpeded as the beetle misses its mark. "Now you die!" the ogre yells in clear Chondathan.

• The club actually doesn't seem to hurt Throm at all "Damned finger wiggling, foul smelling atop of being orges messing up me beard...I'm ticked!!!"

• The ogre slams the club down on Makin at the end of the charge, a devastating blow! Splinters of wood fly as the blinded man is whalloped by the huge creature.

• Makin grimaces as his eyes begin to clear, perhaps the blow helping to complete the cleansing.

• Rycael changes targets, firing two arrows at the one closer to Makin. The closer ogre proves to be a slightly easier target as her arrows sink into it's waist.

• It cries out as the arrows pierce its hide, but its still standing and threatening Makin.

• Well - the ogre hadn't moved. That left her with a unique opportunity to try and put her sword into it AND slug it in the kneecap.

• The bison gores again at the ogre before it, the firebeetle charges toward Makin, while Makin simply swings his morningstar against the ogre.

• The sword goes wide yet again but perhaps that just lends fuel to the frustration when her stony fist slams hard into the ogre's knee and leaves a satisfying crunching sound in the process.

• Makin swings, hitting the ogre in the shin, a grazing hit that will surely turn to a bruise come morning should the ogre live through the day.

• Rand finally moves in his first straight line. Charging into the ogres reach taking a much harder blow than he delivered. But he gave it enough to kill it, barely surviving the attack himself!

• As Rand strikes the ogre down it flails its last and nearly crushes Rand's skull. But as it dies something strange happens...

• Rand’s helmet spins a circle around his head.

• The ogre’s body twists and morphs and shrinks... and then before them lies a man in leather breeches with a white tabard emblazoned with a purple sigil, his cloak is likewise purple... he begins smoking....

• "What. The thrice. Damned. Blazes." Purple cloaks.. smoking bodies, and not an ogre. At least not anymore. But that didn't look like illusory work either? Suffice to say the Gnome was confused, and worried.

• "Well that's not something ye see everyday." says in mild surprise, oh well figure it out later one more to go at least and he turn to run towards the one still in sight.

• The last standing ogre continues to try and flatten Makin with its club, swinging it like a bat at the cleric's head.

• Makin steps sideways, "I am not blind now."

• Two more arrows fly at the ogre.

• "Perhaps not, but you'll be dead soon!" it growls.

• That was perhaps all she really needed to hear. The things were behaving like real ogres dammit. Good enough. ..But she's a tad too far away to actually reach striking distance.

• And the arrows sink into a tree branch; the ranger protects the party from the threat posed by the trees...

• A short run and Throm gets within reach of the last orge and swings his axe at it from the side… and it's a clean miss.

• The ogre completely understands now that the odds are not remotely in its favor. It swings once more at Makin... Then runs!

• Makin backhands his morningstar into the ogre's knee.

• It grunts and limps but still runs away.

• The orge takes an axe in the back courtesy of turning and trying to run off "Get back here ye damned coward?!!"

• Throm's attack hits the ogre square in the back, and its scream carries across the hillside as it stumbles in an attempt to escape its fate.

• Rycael sends another two arrows at the fleeing ogre.

• Rycael's arrows sink deeply into the fleeing ogre's back, knocking him to the ground!

• Again it's twisting and morphing and it's a man, purple cloak, white tabard with a purple symbol. Smoking a bit as well...

• Rand's armor is gone again as he tosses the empty potion bottle to the ground, done with it. He fetches out another and drinks it too. That bottle also gets tossed another direction. After the second drink he still looks a little more than half dead, not unlike the wolf attack. He sighs heavily. He normally always looked tired and aged beyond his action age, but now me just looked beat, and oddly accepting of it. He wasn't very happy about it, but he seemed to appear as though he really did deserve the pain and accepted that. He waits for the others.

• "They turn into humans?"the elf blinks, walking closer cautiously. Rycael has an arrow knocked, moving closer to the creature she fell.

• Makin moves to the human, casting a lesser vigor upon the now human form.

• "What in by Moradin's beard is going o here?" demands angrily at the sight of yet another human where the orge was, this simply wasn't natural by any means. Not waiting for an answer he twists the ring on his finger as the pain from his burns gets his attention.

• Xerx didn't get anywhere near the fallen ones - she did however keep an eye out for the one that ran.

• Well, that was .. unfortunate. Usually I can keep them alive after they are downed." he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

• "Who is injured?” Makin asks, “I have more vigors I can help."

• Oh he's injured, but he won't be taking any healing from the other man. Rand secures his shield on his back, the morningstar already on his hip, and seems ready to move again by expression if not by enthusiasm.

• "I could use one." Throm replies even as the magic from his ring starts to mend some of his burns "Damned bastards nearly burned me beard clean off."

• "Simple transmutation spell fer the changin' - looks like their shit's nary too fond 'a the sunlight. Tha's wha's smokin. M'fine really, didn' get scuffed this time. Skin's too thick an I'm too small."

• Makin applies one of the lesser vigors from his wand to Throm (+11 hp)

• The elf walks back over to the dwarf, offering him a waterskin.

• And then Makin adds one to himself.

• As the party recoups, you have two options: Chase after the blind ogre, who was last seen bolting to the west, or continue north to your previous destination.

• "It would seem, all the ... " he pauses, "Polymorph of some sort?"

• "Thank ye Kindly Lass, all tha fire has me a bit parched." managing a grin he takes the offered water and drinks deeply from the skin.

• Sighing deep Rand begins to walk the direction they already had been. He's not moving fast, and won't be far. Some sort of lazy scouting.

• Well given that she's satisfied the bodies aren't going to explode she does a least look them over. For anything useful - and to take at least one tabard with her for later identification. "Nah, simpler 'n Polymorph. Second order. Ogre ain' tha hard."

• Rycael nods, tipping her mask up. After the dwarf is finished, she offers the skin to anyone else that wished for a drink.

• "I think the one has lost its urge, shall we press upward to see what we have waiting still?"

• Beneath their tabards are supple black armor that looks almost elven-wrought, but not. It is made of an oddly dark scale has an inky, almost iridescent look to it.

• "Interesting gear they wear, I ... " he frowns. "Whichever route we take, I am good."

• "Lessen any of ye are good trackers I say we head on rather then chase after tha last one." Throm suggests as he takes a closer look at the armor and tabard "Anyone ever see this before?" holding up a tabard.

• "I can store quite a bit my my haversack as well." Makin offers.

• Now that your foes lie still, you continue on toward the outcropping.

• "Dragon cult ... " Makin says, poking at the symbol on the tabard. "What are they doing out here, in the mountains?"

• "Nope - takin one with me though. Can ask folks when we're done, yeah? Might be they needed dealin' with too." Of course then Makin goes and answers it - but that's fine. "Dragon cult.. bleh. Maybe we'll find tha' out if we find the young lad?"

• It's a question on all of your minds as you continue onward. It is not much farther up the mountainside that you reach your destination at last. As you approach, the smell of fresh earth greets your noses and the air is thick with dust. Before you, at the base of the outcropping, you see what looks like a small cave.

• Makin points out that down below us, further east, is a horse remarkably similar to the one that pulled Geornan’s wagon. There are at least six bodies around us, two of which are dead ogres, the others are a dwarf and a pair of humans. He further points out that the non-ogres look like they could be members of the expedition we’re searching for. Perhaps confirming that with Geornan might not be a bad idea. He continues, pointing to what looks to be a pair of collapsed support pillars, around which are tied remnants of thick ropes. It looks as if something with immense strength pulled these pillars down and caused a cave-in.

• The area is quiet. As you approach, the way is not difficult, if overgrown. You reach the cave and you can see signs of recently upended boulders that look like they rolled out of the cave itself.

• Hoist the non-ogres onto the horses and take them back perhaps?"

• "Well, none of em were ogres really - still,” Xerx muses, “might be an idea. Maybe we can try ta get into this cave later too.."

• Rycael tips her mask down again, nocking another arrow and glancing around for any more signs of danger.

• "Least these were real orges." Throm kicks one of the corpses.

• That is an interesting thing, Throm notes. Here are *actual* ogres, and none of the bodies bear the gear or tabards of the ones you found below.

• ..Actual ogres, and dead ogres. Alright that has the Gnome thinking harder again. "..Kay. Tha's a bit strange."

• "Will it get us paid for the job?" Rand asks bluntly.

• Rycael nears the cave, glancing at the dwarf as the ground was likely hunting grounds he knew better.

• "There could be someone trapped in there?" Throm points at the collapsed tunnel entrance.

• "If he is inside, yes." Makin replies.

• Throm makes an excellent point.

• "Fair enough. Do you think he is inside?" Rand seems only concerned with that point, not so much the other.

• "Let's see if these are movable.." Says the Gnome who is apparently more than willing to get to this idea.

• As you enter the cave, you see that it ends only a few meters in. From the looks of things, the cave-in is blocking the entrance fully.

• Xerx takes her time with this - crawling around the rocks a bit and clearly taking a discerning eye to the matter. She spends at least a couple minutes at it. Trying to work out what's leaning on what for support and how moving specific pieces will affect the rest. "Ey! There's bits a' tha stone work left here, got somethin' written on it I can't make out. Need help ta clear it though - winches, hooks, men 'n horses. Take most of an afternoon if we do it right."

• Rand gives a quick search. In a few seconds he finds a cloak, journal, and a map piece.

• Rycael walks closer to look at the writing on the wall...

• Rand does collect those things, and moves just enough to the light to look at them.

• Rycael sees the script is elven, and she can make out only one piece of one word, 'aal.' The rest is too fragmented and broken to read without piecing it all back together.

• "Sounds like we'll need ta head back ta town and get what we need ifin we're ta open this thing up?"

• Rand looks through the journal, and it appears to be blank, but the map is not, and it is in a similarly flowing script. Who recognizes this?" He asks holding up the noble marked cloak. "Is this our guy?"

• "Not I, afraid not."

• Throm blinks at the symbol.

• and Throm kowledge got burnt along with his search/spot)

• Well, it may or may not be the symbol of the House of the man you're looking for. Too bad no one remembers the stamps on the wagons and horses and other equipment back at that camp. Ah, well.

• Seemingly done with it he drops the cloak and puts the journal on his person. Now looking at the map.

• The Gnome - not getting any real useful ideas off the top of her head - finds herself glancing over at Rand as he drops the cloak. "What'cha figurin' with the map 'an book?"

• "Book is blank. Map is the corner of a bigger map. Want it?" He turns it a few different ways. Gets a small idea of what it is, but not much. He's not really interested anymore.

• The Gnome's hands with the odd green veins take the map eagerly, getting it held wide in front of her. "Sure. Can' hurt."

• The map looks very old and you would expect it to be crumbly and brittle, especially in Xerx's hands. However, it is anything but, and feels like the supple vellum of a newly created masterwork.

• "Looks like tha coast up northwards. There's some letterin here.. might be more elven? Anyone wanna look at tha' part? This thing ain' jes a map.." Xerx’d squint hard. Blinking, sniffing at it, tracing a finger over the torn bits. "An we're standin right in the middle of it - maybe, if it were whole? Seein' lines, maybe paths, but they're hard ta make out. Mebbe on account of tha damage. S'almost done up the way a spellbook is. Kinda."

• Rand reaches out and touches it with a mending spell just to see if it has any effect at all.

• The edges which have been clearly cut, not torn, glow just faintly but nothing else happens. At least you know now it seemed to be cut on purpose.

• Rycael blinks, having got lost in thought at some writing on the wall.... She goes over to inspect the map...

• Once Rycael looks over the map with Xerx, she can see that the writing is ancient elven, but it is fragmented. The best she can translate are a few letters in the upper border of the map, they might be two or three letters. The possible combinations are “IL,” “LI,” “II,” “LL,” “ILL,” “IIL,” “III,” “LLL,” “ILI,” “LLI.”

• Now that you've reviewed the map, Throm's suggestion to return to town for the proper gear to excavate the cave in and continue the search for Lord Wands seems perhaps best. You can return to the camp and from their inform Geornan. Or, you can keep all the gear and equipment you find here, though it belongs to House Wands, and report nothing. Your choice. It's doubtful you could haul everything out in Makin's haversack, though.

• "Les go get the man” Xerx suggests, “- see if he knows these folks 'n can help us dig this place out."

• A return to camp finds Geornan waiting and the party willing to tell their version of what they’ve discovered thus far…
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Sun Apr 12, 2015 2:12 pm

Session Six

• Makin would put forth that they would have burned the evil ones, any of the fallen that were non-enemy should be returned.

• Geornan's face pales substantially when you ride up carrying the dead along with you. "By the gods, Is Lord Jag among them?" he asks in a truly concerned voice.

• Ry would help carry the non-enemies.

• Makin replied, "I do not believe so, at least none appear to match his description."

• "I don't.. think so." Xerx eyeballs the bodies again - briefly. "We found them next to a cave in. I think with a few men and the right tools we can clear the stones and see if Lord Jag is still inside."

• "Oh thank the gods!" Geornan exclaims, though he does linger over the dwarf. "Ah, Kreag. You'll be missed, mate." He helps you as much as he can, with his injury, and adds, "I'll have to return to the city straightaway eh?" he says to them. "No, I'd need to be there to tell the Wands personally. Will you come along?"

• Most likely he's trapped in the collapsed tunnel we found." Throm explains "We're going ta need to get some digging gear ifin we're going to get in there ta look fer him."

• "Aye, or a few earth elementals to do it for us,” Makin replied.

• "Err- we're thinkin'” Xerx begins, “… Yeah, what Throm said. Don' know we wanna waste time headin' back yet. Better off hirin a few strong backs and horses, rope and pulleys and picks."

• Rycael glances among the others as she seems unsure what the best course of action would be.

• "What're we talkin'?" Geornan asks, limping over to one of the wagons to lift the tarp.

• “We can do this in a couple hours,” Xerx explains, “Just need tha right tools an' manpower."

• In the wagon are fulcrums, pulleys and what looks like a heavy duty rig for doing just the sort of work the party had in mind. "I can send some 'ands up from Rassalantar," he offers, "On my way through?"

• "I will leave the workings of this to those born to it,” Makin says. “I know enough to know when I know nothing." he grins.

• There are also several hundred lengths of rope, buckets, and straps for wrapping the larger stones in for removal.

• "Aye,” Throm nods, “let’s get what we need from tha wagon and load these poor devils in it so the man here can get moving."

• Sounds like a plan." The Gnome wasn't far behind in climbing up to start distributing gear there. Bonus in that she actually had a grip on what they needed.

• Through the evening you pack the gear you think you might need and see Geornan off. The night leaves enough chill to warrant a fire. Geornan promises to have men to you by midday next.

• Makin takes a bit to care for his horse, cleaning and brushing him down as the night falls.

• A bit sooner than midday next, a half dozen burly men show up at the edge of camp. You confirm Geornan has sent them, and you make your way back up the mountain with them in tow. One of them, Jerl, by name, seems to know a bit about moving things with the gear you've packed, as you learn when he pointed out a few missing things, like tie-downs and cross-support straps. The way is clear but slow with the laden wagon. Late afternoon finds you at the cave-in, ready to begin excavating. It's possible you could clear it by sundown, or wait until morning. The laborers seem to favor the latter, it seems, as Geornan had promised a pay-by-the-day rate.

• One imagines between Jerl and Xerx they can sort out the long and short of the rock moving, given her apparently intimate understanding of how shit goes down when really heavy rocks fall into the ground. Shocking what astronomers can sort out.

• Rycael helps how she can, mostly doing what the others tell her to do. Her experience favored above ground terrain.

• "I would recommend we get it done tonight,” Makin suggests, “Imagine being trapped in there all by yourself. Would you want folks waiting?"

• Throm's contribution is mostly throwing his back into moving stuff where the Gnome says it needs moving and muttering about where his damned cousins on his mother's side when you need digging done?

• Makin continues, "And I will pay you all an extra day's wage if it comes to that."

• Jerl holds up a pair of fingers.

• "Two days,” Makin nods, “Done."

• Jerl nods and the men set to it.

• Makin pauses near Throm, whispering, "Any idea how much he was paying these guys?"

• "Not a clue, I'm a smith not a miner." is his reply to Makin's question

• The Gnome doesn't just give orders shockingly enough. She actually helps as she can with the moving, hauling, pulling - all that business. Possibly being the second strongest person out of the lot of them. Possibly.

• As the sun sets a cool breeze wafts down the mountainside, whipping about cloaks, hair, and dust about the dig. Pickaxes ring out as does the rhythmic humming and low singing from the men about their business. Finally it's the last large obstruction that gets lifted out, a stout fulcrum swinging it just clear of the cave mouth and setting it down with a cloud of dust that takes just a moment to clear, revealing to all the fruits of the last several hours.

• The opening stands before you all, about 5 feet wide. Bits of the bases of a pair of columns set one diagonally before the other line either side. Some of you notice more details than others.

• “Something under this .. " Makin says, moving into the opening, he leans down to run a hand over the mortar on the floor.

• Follows after him and examines the cracked mortar "Aye canna say I've seen this sort of rock before."

• Makin points out that mortar runs up the walls behind the pillars, covering an arched opening into which you see is a clear tunnel into the hillside. It's as if someone covered an old opening with a new one?

• Rycael rubs the dust from her eyes.

• Makin will spend a considerable amount of time searching the area. He finds the mortar has filled in places with bits of odd things trapped within, as if filled over something that was, at one time, heavily trapped. No longer, as the mortar holds the ruins of these traps and nothing more.

• "Huh…" Xerx sounds. Well that was an eloquent response to Makin. "This is gonna be real damn old 'm thinkin', so les get goin an' get a look around!" Ah exuberance. Yes, she wanders right up to the entrance if it's braced stable by now.

• "It is like that of petrified wood, yet it is not stone. Blues, and greens greyish perhaps ... " Makin describes. He pulls his blade, chipping away at the mortar, trying to clear more of it away. "Give me a hand Xerx?"

• On Xerxsephina's heels the dwarf opts for his shield and hammer for such close quarters and heads down the tunnel "Lets check this out first, tha Lad obviously isn't under there or it would be already torn up." Well far be it from her to turn him down. The Gnome would meander back toward whatever it was was being worked at "What's this Makin?" - though she stops short at something. "...Footprints. There. In the dust. Headin' in 'n to tha left."

• "Right you are. I just thought this might give us a bit more of a clue as to what we might be likely to find within. But finding the Wand lad is first and foremost."

• The elf walks over and takes a closer look at the tracks.

• "Either a storage site for goods, like grain and such ...” Makin offers, “or a crypt for their dead."

• "Don' get me wrong,” Xerx says, “I wanna look at this a'fore we go." She'd offer the man a pat on the thigh - and a curiously strong one. Then make to catch back up with Throm and Rycael.

• They are clearly boot tracks. Humanoid. If you want more about the individual who left them, go ahead. It's pretty clear these are the only tracks that have come through here.

• "I assume I am the only among you who is blind in the darkness?" Makin queries.

• "I see well by stars, but no go into caves much..." Rycael shakes her head slightly.

• "Neh.. I can see a ways innit but not in pitch." The Gnome shook her head gently. "Throm, ya wanna head things up? I'll keep the light back a bit?"

• The walls of the tunnel are smooth, and long vanes raise themselves up from the surface, running about everywhere, sometimes disappearing and reappearing as you walk along, looking very much like you stand within the great root of some ancient tree. In the darkness the colors aren't readily apparent, but there is a bit of a faint glitter to the surface of everything around you. Those of you without darkvision will need to produce a light source or stumble about blindly.

• "Aye,” Throm nods, “though I'm no thief so I'll be finding any traps tha hard way. There's a hooded lantern in me back pack ye can use."

• Makin raises an orb, letting it float out near his shoulder, (60' brightness 120' shadow) "Priest of the sun. Hello. Nice to meet you all." he smiles.

• Throm shakes his head and trods ahead to stay out of the brightness "Nice but tha lantern would be a bit more discrete."

• Makin lifts a brow, the light dimming to half the brightness. "Have a preference?"

• "Not being blinded would be mine." Throm chuckles back. Not in a hurry to run into a pit trap or such he takes his time moving ahead at a walk and looking about their surroundings.

• As they make the left turn, the tunnel declines a bit and widens, doubling, in fact. It is more silent than some of you have ever known.

• The Gnome isn't far behind him. Her legs only went about as fast as his did though. Still, she was keeping an eye on the architecture - for stability and artistic reasons alike.

• Something so *natural* about the tunnel. The walls, ground, everything is the same... piece... it seems. There are no cracks, chips, worn 'stones,' or any signs of passage other than the dusty footprints. There are stangely a few spots of green here and there. The air seems old, not stale.

• Rycael readies her bow, looking somewhat nervous as she follows the others deeper into the cave.

• The laborers are content to make camp when you enter the tunnel. "Ain't comin' in after ya," Jerl remarks as you disappear within.

• "I no go below ground much, but this not feel natural..." Rycael mutters.

• Makin waves to the workers as he disappears, "If I do not return, take my horse as payment." and follows into the depths.

• Definitely something odd about this place which bothers the dwarf but he presses on, they had a noble to find after all.

• She really has no intention of lagging behind. Just gets her sword loose and ready - then keeps abreast of the dwarf. Still she's checking the walls for flaws just for the sake of academics - and looking for signs of life apart from that one instance of footprints.

• The elf keeps the pace of those in front of her, her nerves seeming to war with an odd sense of calm. Noticing the branching tunnel ahead, "Want me to look at tracks?"

• Makin simply follows along, shield out, morningstar in hand. Globe glowing softly.

• He moves ahead into the intersection to look down each in turn and let the elf check out the tracks behind him.

• Throm seems to have a good view down one of their two choices - the Gnome peers into the first few feet of the other. "Well feck.. it would get complicated. Anyone sort this out?"

• "Man not sure what way to go, went back and forth..." Rycael says as she kneels down in the intersection, "Tracks that way," she points to the left tunnel, "are freshest..." She takes an arrowhead from her pouch and places it on the floor, next to the wall near her, so it points back to the entrance.

• Makin follows behind Rycael as she moves forward again.

• Within the shadowy illumination at the very edge of Makin's spell at the far north there is an alcove just barely visible to those with low-light vision.

• The rest of the tunnels bend into darkness.

• The elf said left so Throm takes the one to the left to what appears to be another intersection from there.

• You all do notice that the further you move in, the less dust from the cave-in marks the ground, and the footprints may soon disappear.

• Throm seems to have the alcove checked out - or at least covered to block fleeing nobles. Xerx advances instead into the pathway.

• More tunnels. This place looks immense. The newest alcoves are the most shallow. It seems everything is intact, including the small, elegant statuary. Well, it looks like statuary, but no one has investigated it up close quite yet.

• Rycael follows close behind, and even though the 2'nd intersection only spits to an alcove, she marks it with another arrowhead pointed towards where they came from.

• Makin proceeds along, marking their passage much as Rycael did, but with a piece of chalk on the wall.

• Also, before Xerx the tunnel seems to slope down just a bit.

• Curious Throm heads north to check out the statue at the far end of that section of the place. He notes that some sort of elf is depicted in a statue, green and glittering and most definitely valuable. It's almost a foot tall and it is *flawless*.

• Throm having gone off down the alcove the Gnome holds her place - waiting to see if perhaps the young noble is lurking down there.

• Noticing the dwarf wander north for a moment, Rycael waits near the second intersection. She moves forward somewhat to see further ahead, but keeps the dwarf in her sight.

• Makin moves forward a bit more, staying where he can see his three companions.

• Light bathes the alcove, and the brilliant, glittering green statue can be seen by all, there before Throm. It's about a foot tall and depicts and elf. Closer inspection might reveal more details. It seems to be set upon a thin pedestal. The alcove around it seems to serve as some sort of shrine.

• "There be some script carved on this thing." he calls back over his shoulder "But I dinna read elfish scribbles."

• ..Well if that's all it is the Gnome continues on.

• "Elven words not 'scribbles'... They flow like river" Rycael mutters as she walks over to the statue, her curiosity piqued.

• "Solonor Thelandira..." Rycael whispers in reverence, {elven} "...guide you on the hunt and awaits your return." She reads softly, dropping to a knee and bowing her head slightly.

• "Tiss this some sort of temple then, or shrine?" Throm asks curiously

• Makin slides forward to Throm to examine the scribbling as well. Upon careful examination, he comes to a conclusion. "As I mentioned, likely a tomb or crypt. Perhaps a shrine here for the dead of Solonor Thelandira, the Great Archer."

• Throm just nods and heads back to catch up to the gnome before she finds some trouble all by herself. As Throm moves toward Xerx, he notices the tunnel descends about 10' as he levels out and there's a new set of alcoves. One has *2* green-stoned statues in it.

• The Gnome notices how distant her allies' voices are and promptly goes no further whatsoever. She does take a look at the two statues near her though.

• Rycael stands slowly, her nervousness at being under the stone gone- replaced by a sudden awed admiration for the structure they were in. Holding her arrow to her bow in one hand, she runs her other hand along the wall as she makes her way to the others. Instead of an elf under stone, she now more resembles a child about to meet their hero. Upon this simple realization, Rycael feels un unabated resonance with the environment.

• Makin trots after the dwarf who is still without a leash. "No sign of the lad yet then?"

• "Nothin' yet down this way? S'more ta explore ahead though."

• "Least we haven't found a dead noble yet." he replies as he catches up to her

• As they descend, the air becomes a bit more damp and dank. There is water nearby.

• "No jinxin' it." The Gnome gives Throm a quick smack in the side on her way past him down the tunnel.

• As the party works its way down the long hall, they can see now by the inscriptions and the statues, most of them ivory instead of precious stones, that they depict individuals who seem to have at one time been prominent whenever it was this place was built. It is more difficult to track as there is less dust, but as the smell of water becomes stronger, so there is a change in the air. It is tangy, and there is life in it. Foliage, moss, and ferns have found purchase here and there now as you descend. They notice too, a soft light from below.

• Makin follows along behind Throm, his brighter light overpowering all as they descend.

• Caught in amazement, Rycael walks down the hall, stopping briefly to examine the other statues as she passes them. Reaching the longer tunnel, she walks swiftly to catch up to the others. Even so, she still runs her hand along the wall, as if trying to embrace the entirety of the structure with her spirit.

• The bottom of the tunnel opens up into a diamond-shape room with a vaulted ceiling that stretches up nearly 20' above their heads. The walls are now wrought with intense design, giving them a feeling of life and energy. At the center of this room is a round pool with a fountain in the center depicting all manner of elven legendary. Despite the apparent age of the place, water still flows from it, somehow. Around the fountain, however, has become overgrown with fern and other water-loving plants that can survive on naught but the pale light seeming to emanate from the walls of the room themselves.

• Throm steps his pace up to a run but falls steadily behind the rest of them as they press ahead.

• ...Well. The Fountain looks nice. Right? Why not go look at that.

• Makin tilts his head to one side. "I hear something of on the far side... Could be the water..."

• As they near the fountain, Rycael takes a deep breath of the air, slowly exhaling with a contented sigh. Suddenly, her ears twitch slightly and she holds out an arm to slow the others. Readying her bow slightly, she walks around the fountain as she peers into the water.

• A draconic shape leaps up at Rycael from the murky darkness, slashing with razor-tipped, clawed wings. A frill on its forehead and extending down its back suggests a green dragon’s blood flows through the veins of this beast. It stands perhaps 6’ tall at the shoulder and is approximately 18 feet long. It looks like it could weight close to 3 tons. Its folded wings resemble deadly blades. The frill comes up and vibrates, and the creature screams at Rycael, slashing for her throat and leaping away with amazing agility even *after* it pounced upon her from the water! Its movement is so fast, the creature leaps to the other side of the fountain, lowering its body smartly beneath the stone. Its back and frill are still visible targets, but it has partial cover.

• Before Rycael knows it there are a pair of red lines across her torso, from which her life begins instantly leaking...

• Without even time to be surprised, Rycael is dropped to the ground by the beast's ferrocity, laying alarmingly still...
Last edited by A.J. on Tue Apr 21, 2015 1:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Tue Apr 14, 2015 9:36 am

Session 7

• As Ry drops, Makin yells, "Brightest day or darkest of night, Lord Amaunator's power will make evil give flight." a streak of yellow warm light flies from the amulet at Makin's throat to wrap around Ry, healing her wounds and protecting her in a sanctuary of light. Makin moves forward, moving up toward Ry. He is too far away to make it to her and attack, "Back Ry! As soon as you can!" And he casts MASS Aid ...

• The Gnome didn't really waste time, but she wasn't rushing into it's jaws either. A brief word or two in that spidery off shoot of Draconic to summon some defense (Shield) and then she approached while drawing her sword.

• Hammer and shield at the ready Throm moves at a run placing himself between the water and the pair moving towards the Elf "Come on ye lizard...gots something fer between yer beady eyes right here."

• And it does. As the stout Throm issues his challenge, it leaps into the water just before him, raising up so that you all might get a good look. Its upper arms are wings, but their edges are like razors, its green scales glitter with a slight iridescence. The water of the fountain is deep, for it must grab the stone and pull itself partially out to attack. But what comes next is worse: It belches a caustic spray, a super-fine mist that instantly fills the area with the burning smell of ammonia and acid, seeping into any exposed orifice, be it the eyes, nose, ears. Exposed skin blisters upon its touch... It burns! It burns everywhere!

• ...It would burn worse were it not for Makin, mind you. Xerxsephira made a mental note to donate something later to Amaunator for being such a stand up guy.

• Ry wakes up with a start, grabbing her bow and scrambling behind the others.

• Makin reaches out and touches Ry, "Lord, grant your light that it might heal my ally."

• Makin itches as the field the aid had created around him bursts, letting some of the acid through still. He scratches now that his duty is complete.

• Xerxsephira sidles up neatly behind Throm, then tends to two more acts of magic. The acid really ought to have hurt worse, but while she felt something bleeding off of her and escaping into the ether at its touch very little of it was apparently flesh. This left her free to touch her pendant briefly (amulet of tears, 12 temp hp) and then invoke another simple act of magic while joining Throm in the beast's path.

• This was likely the most irritating thing he'd been hit with to date,and he'd been burned with fire, and by molten metal, even acid while forging, but the ammonia stench was the worst part of it, thank the Gods for whatever ward Markin had cast on them for taking the brunt of that but he still wanted to vomit. And that all made him even more angy so he closed the last few feet and with a scream swsung his hammer at the damned thing.

• "Xerx, do you believe there is any danger of this gas igniting if there were to be flames here?"

• "Err.. not.. feckin sure? Guessin if it -does- it's hellish, but ah.. don' take my word fer it."

• And the hammer solidly strikes on of the things wings with a crack.

• The dwarf's hammer gets the green scaly thing's attention now as it screeches in pain, its cry reverberating through the underground passages. A quick adjustment and its haunches bear its weight on the fountain wall, which subsequently begins to crumple. Water and algae begin to spill out from it, causing a bit of a mess. But that's not the problem, as now its wing-blades were free. It swipes and snaps at the dwarf for causing it injury!

• The crumbling wall makes for an awkward attack by the beast, and the first misses badly, as does its bite. But one of them catches the dwarf and draws blood. The thing screams out again in satisfaction, glancing with malevolent intelligence at the others.

• Rycael moves further back before letting loose an arrow at the beast, {elven} "No longer shall you defile this holy place!" The arrow bites into the beast's hide, but doesn't sink very far...

• Makin touches his necklace once again, "As the first light of dawn quickens my pulse, as the light hastens the healing, so will my touch hasten your pace my dwarven friend."

• The creature seems to hardly notice the elf's missile, its attention on the dwarf before it.

• Xerx just about dove at the beast's hind leg, sword hefted up in two hands for a charge. She was careful not to fall into the water, however. That might be bad.

• Damned it to Hell that hit hurt, but the flow of divine magic that suddenly that flooded thru Throm made it easy to ignore for the moment. His limbs moved faster then before and he assailed the beast with a flurry of hammer strikes.

• "Is this an actual full on dragon?"

• "Things hide is damned near tough enough to pass fer it."

• "Looks more like a-" And she trails off into some other language, which happened to be draconic. Something about 'scuzzy half-breed lizard'?

• Throm's hammer seems to annoy the thing, mostly, but it continues to slice and snap, screech and shift its bulk along the fountain wall, which won't hold up for long.

• That same wing slices Throm again, coming from a place he couldn't quite catch in time to avoid. The wound is deep...

• Rycael lets another two arrows fly at the beast... Again an arrow sinks in just enough to do damage, but not like it should... the other arrow flies over the beast's shoulder.

• Makin touches Throm, "Once more, my dwarven friend needs your help my Lord, heal his wounds. Light his resolve against this evil."

• The creature rears its head and hisses at Makin and his magic...

• Well, up by it as she was it apparently did her no good whatsoever. The Gnome's sword glances right off it's scales and her solid looking punch does nothing any more notable,

• Throm scowls , this moving faster takes some adjusting to, but nothing else to do but continue to batter at the things and he does so trying to keep it's attention on him so the others can try and flank it!

• The dwarf's new found speed is perhaps something to get accustomed to. He thwacks as hard as he can, and the creature barely notices, jumping from the fountain wall, causing it to collapse fully, and water from the fountain above ground is now gushing at your feet, filling the floor and making it almost slippery enough to be a problem... Again its maw opens and spews forth the ammonia-like acid breath... Before the burning even sets in, it has leaped into the fountain and disappeared beneath the surface of the water! Water rolls out onto the floor at your feet...

• Makin reels back, the sting and the pain burning his skin, blisters rising from his skin. Blisters in his throat, in this nose. Any open skin feeling like it was on fire.

• Ry moves partly up the ramp, bow at the ready. {elven accented common} "Where it go?"

• Makin shakes his head, "Pull back, up the way. We have hardly hurt this creature."

• The long, sloping hall looms behind you. Remember it took 15 minutes to walk down it.

• Spotting something in the water, she lets another arrow at the pool. "It hunting us!"

• Makin calls for more healing, this time for Xer. "Lord, heal the pretty metal one." And then he moves toward the exit.

• What with the horrible burn wounds starting to seal up in what has to be the warmest softest light she's experienced she looked damn grateful for that. "Oi - remind me ta thank that God of yers, and ya know.. you too. Thanks."

• "He seems to like you Xerx." he chuckles as he ignores his own wounds.

• The dwarf certainly doesn't look like he's enjoying any of this either as he reluctantly gives ground, and gags on the stench from the breath attack.

• Well it seemed like the thing to do. She backed the hell away from the water. One arm still in stone and the other still holding that sword. Certainly wasn't going in after the dragon thing.

• The water explodes and the creature is upon Throm once more, slashing with a bladed wing...

• Without skipping a beat it slices the dwarf across the face and attempts to leap over you all and block your retreat!

• Xerx lands the only successful attack as the creature sails overhead. It is wide enough to block your escape, at least this way.

• It lands, after sailing over you, spreading out its blade-like wings which graze the edges of the tunnel surrounding you. It whips its head about and snarls at you, screeching in delight.

• Ry swung at the beast with her bow, but missed. Instead, she moves deeper into the room and sends another arrow the beast's way.

• Makin lays his hand once again on Throm, giving him a healing blessing from Amaunator. "Lord, mend his wounds, knit him to make him whole."

• The Gnome is quick to back right off the other direction again. This time turning to muster a spell from.. well, essentially her own vaguely metallic ass. She needed the spell. She remembered enough of it to make it work. And when she finished the words a blast of scalding hot steam fired out of her hand in a line toward the beast. ...Shockingly the beast finally seems to take the full brunt of something. A gust of blistering hot water vapor right in the face.

• It flinches and screeches its ear-piercing shriek at the gnome's hot hot magic.

• Retreat no longer seemed an option, and finally hearing and seeing it wail in pain drove Throm at it with a howl of rage.

• As Throm's thundering hammer rains blow after blow down on the creature, its pain has grown exponentially and now, it seems a bit angered that its not gnawing on your bones just yet. It rips into Throm with renewed vigor... That same wing keeps catching the dwarf from the same blind spot as it whips around, gouging him yet again, but Throm effectively defends against the other wingblade and the thing's long, sharp fangs!

• {elven} "Spirits of the falcon guide my arrows that I may rid this fiend from the Great Archer's holy ground!" the elf shouts, sending another two arrows at the creature.

• Makin steps forward again to aid his friend. "Lord of light, heal this one again.." He taps Throm with a thin wand made of a willow with good flexibility and a core of the hair of a troll.

• She was -not- about to let Throm face this down alone. No, the tiny little green tinted woman took that sword in both hands and charged at the beast again. And it actually bites in to boot - not as much as it should but she sinks the blade in nicely.

• Throm continues to wail away at the critter, no other option coming to mind…

• The creature snarls as the two stalwart companions hack away at it, rearing up, taking a deep deep breath and spewing forth that noxious, burning vapor!

• Once it blasts you it sails overhead and dives back into the fountain!

• It was perhaps in response to having half her metallic skin burned in horrible chemical fumes that the Gnome's shrieking slash at the creature bites as hard as it does.

• Blood stains the water now, and is leaving a trail as the creature circles around.

• Rycael once more moves towards the ramp before looking back to the ruined fountain...

• Makin drops to a knee, as he sags, almost hitting the ground. A light flares about him as he stands weakly on his feet.

• The floor in front of you is flooded, and the fountain's water level is now level with the ground.

• There is perhaps 2-3 inches of water on the ground, but the fountain is much deeper, obviously.

• Throm looking like he can barely stand, pale from poison and blood lost he weakly grasps the bracelet on his wrist, activating it's magic…
Last edited by A.J. on Tue Jun 23, 2015 6:38 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Mon Apr 20, 2015 11:55 pm

Session 8

• Rycael once more moves towards the ramp before looking back to the ruined fountain...

• Makin drops to a knee, as he sags, almost hitting the ground. A light flares about him as he stands weakly on his feet.

• The floor in front of you is flooded, and the fountain's water level is now level with the ground.

• There is perhaps 2-3 inches of water on the ground, but the fountain is much deeper, obviously.

• Throm looking like he can barely stand, pale from poison and blood lost he weakly grasps the bracelet on his wrist, activating it's magic…

• Rycael seems unsure of what quite to do and remains back on the ramp, bow ready to fire if the creature shows itself again...

• Makin flicks and swishes with his wand once again. tapping the dwarf. "Bright Light." he says, activating it, a bright yellow-orange light flaring around the dwarf to heal him. And then he retreats up the hall.

• …Well, given the state of things Xerx appears fully inclined to do precisely what Makin had done. Head as far as she can back up the incline.

• As they move further back, the surface of the water is broken by the top of the beast's head. Rycael fires. One arrow finds its mark...

• Throm knows for a fact he's not near ready for another tussle with this thing and thus he also falls back some more, using the last charge on his bracelet to heal himself some more as he does.

• Again the creature explodes from the water and scrambles after the party. You can all see it's sorely wounded.

• Rycael takes aim and fires a pair of arrows at the creature, one of which finds is mark again.

• Makin grasps the wand in his offhand, fiery ball of light collects in his main hand. He tosses it toward the rear end of the creature.

• The flames explode at the things ass, damaging it significantly. It is almost ... almost dead. You can see the lights in its eyes dim ...

• It squeals and screeches as Makin hits it with the light of his god, spits something in the language of its kin...

• ...The Gnome understands that. Then glances about warily, and shouts back in Draconic.

• "We don't want your eggs! We're just looking for missing human!"

• It shrieks something back at Xerx.

• The back and forth there continues. With the Gnome advancing slowly - and yet not bringing her sword to bear in the process. Luckily her utter and complete lack of guile might work in her favor for once.

• The creature is bearing down on her, no longer listening...

• The beast bearing down was something she just didn't have the patience for - so the Gnome finished with an incantation. Yet more spidery draconic. The finishing touch of which caused Throm to start rapidly increasing in size, and looking a lot more like a metal clad dwarven road block. (Enlarge Person) After which the short wizard opted to fill the rest in - "The pool, it's where she keeps her young! Maybe still in eggs, she thinks we're here for her children - said something about lying elves-"

• Not sure if the hall everything just got smaller or he got larger ? Throm roars back at it and rushes back down the tunnel still hasted from Makin's earlier spell to hammer way at the creature. Call it desperation or just plain the dwarf wanted this thing dead, he throws caution to the wind wrapping both hands around the haft of the hammer he swings at it's head with everything he has, and misses but the back swing connects, messily with the other side of the dragon like head. Blood, brains and an eye go splat into the air and the the rest crumples to the ground.

• A shudder and a shiver and the creature lies still.

• "Aw hell.." She winced. Carefully edging up toward the creature. Teeth set on edge. Then she looks to the pool- "Hell, that ain't.. feck."

• The hall is eerily silent now.

• Makin drops, then collapses to the ground. Sweat mixed with blisters and open wounds, having left him near death. He leans against the wall and applies an application of lesser vigor to himself from his eternal wand.

• She walks away from the body. Heading through the flooded room toward the damaged walls and the depths behind them. Somewhere along the way four little faerie lights spring into being around her, and when she's at it's edge they dip under the water.

• "I .. am going to need a stiff drink and I think I may want to get laid as soon as we get back to the city."

• With a loud *THUMP* the enlarged, dwarf sits down, leaning his back against the wall and breathing,heavily "I..am a bit tuckered out..from tha." he grumbles aloud then chortles at MAkin "Laddy. after this I'll treat ya to two lasses on my coin."

• "I will just take one." he offers the dwarf a grin, "I prefer quality over quantity."

• Rycael’s bow comes up and she nods in the direction of the creature where it came from.

• The Gnome stopped where she was, pulling her lights up to instead direct them toward where Rycael pointed.

• As you do, you see a soft light approaching from the direction of the fountain. A tall elf comes into view, bow up, aimed at you. He says something. "Harrowblade?!" he gasps, turning his bow at the green scaly thing. Then he looks to you all. "How come you to this place?" Something about his language is ... archaic. It is common which he speaks, but the words are arranged differently, perhaps longer and pronounced in an odd way.

• Throm mutters under his breath and gets back up, looking at the stranger , warily "We're looking for a young Noble who may have come poking his nose down here."

• Makin makes his way up the wall, leaving a nice oozing red smear on it. He slowly stands.

• She'd blink at him, tilting her head some. The lights going back to the pool to try and see if there were in fact eggs in there. "We ah - came in the front door?"

• "There are many nobles here, interred in their family's crypts. You have not answered my question. I was just through here not an hour past. And you were not here then. I have been hunting this harrowblade and her mate since they first appeared here. I see you have found her nest." He glances back to the fountain. "I should have known." He looks to Xerx, following her to the fountain. In the blood-clouded water there were, in fact, a pair of eggs, and some other bits of shiny. She'd have to dive in to get them, nestled there in the water as they were. He looks back down the hall after murmuring something in elven. "Priest of the Sun God," he says to Makin, recognizing, perhaps surprisingly, the symbol of his dead god. "The way behind you is barred to all but the dead, and the Coronal's mage, Lanigar. How come you here?"

• "Harrowblade?" Throm repeats "So that what tha damned beasty is." frowns at the mention of a mate "We came in thru the entrance above, had ta dig it out though after those Dragon Cultists collapsed it."

• "Impossible," he says to Throm. "Lanigar's magic is not easily undone." He seems torn as to what to do. "You trespass in the sacred crypts of Aelinthaldaar," he says finally. "I know not how you came here, but you stand on sacred ground. You must leave now. I will escort you to the exit or I will be forced into action of another kind, as is my sacred duty."

• "Well yeh - had ta have a mate - she had babies." Had. The Gnome didn't seem happy with that at all. Nor was she altogether sure she could swim up with those things if she had to but clearly she was weighing the chances.

• He does notice Xerx eyeing the goods. "If you come peacefully, I will, as boon for your efforts against this creature, allow you whatever spoils lie in her nest." He lowers the bow. His presence is one of pure confidence and power.

• Makin's wounds are healing, he stands and moves toward the others. "I .. Amaunator. We were following a human noble from the city of Waterdeep. He and some others were poking about the entrance. The dragon cultists and they had some sort of big battle at the entrance. "

• She didn't look like she was feeling greedy. She looked like she felt guilty about the dead beast in the hall. Whether the man picked up on that or not she wasn't sure of, but in the end she just quietly turns to rejoin the others. "C'mon. Gettin the feck outta here sound's great."

• "I take it you have not seen this human who was trapped here within?" Makin asks.

• When the elf lowers his bow so does Rycael.

• He looks at Makin. "I know not of this place of which you speak, nor of this man. You are the first of your kind to set foot in these halls. I will take you to Shylyndyr for questioning, first, if you come peacefully. Then you and the Melairkin can leave." The last with a glance at Throm.

• Makin applies a second use of the eternal wand to himself as he feels the first ebb.

• "If it is Shylyndyr's will," he adds.

• After all that effort he was damned if they were leaving empty handed and setting down his weapon and shield starts unbuckling his armor "I'll get them eggs, always some fool noble or wizard willing ta pay gold for a fany pet that'll end up eatting them."

• Put away your weapons," he advises.

• Makin nods to his friends, running a hand over his face, feeling the blisters ease.

• "You will first show me from whence you came," he tells them. "We must hurry. It is possible this one's mate is hunting. It will not be happy to return from the lake, if that is how it found its way here..." He seems to be thinking hard about it. He has a visible symbol of Corellon around his neck.

• She made a face at the mention of the eggs but something in her kept her quiet just the same. At least about this. Her weapon was stowed though. Little gnome in chain with a sword. With oddly green tinted knuckles. "We might wanna leave tha eggs - less chance the mate'll go rampagin'. Mebbe."

• "If you do not, I will destroy them," the elf says simply. "The spawn of Tiamat have no place in these halls."

• "Then we're takin em. We orphaned em, we're see'n them someplace else. Assumin' the mate ain' long fer this world an the like."

• "Certainly, we can show you where we entered. Worry not good sir." Makin assures.

• It takes some time, and he follows you warily as you make your way back to where you came in. As you turn that last corner, the pair of lit sconces on the wall reveals a heavily runed door that is quite solidly closed. It looks to be made of stone.

• "Only the spirits of the dead may pass Lanigar's barrier," he repeats, "and the High Mage himself."

• The door is filled with the same elven script on the map you found.

• "Well, she were open earlier. Is there another route out and back to the surface?” Xerx asks.

• From what Rycael can make of it, it seems to be something along the lines of a description of the land beyond as the Free Forests of Illefarn, and that once they pass through the way back would always be known. Something else is written there too, but it is an arcane script Rycael cannot identify.

• Makin uses his willow wand while Rycael inspects the door. Hitting Xerx with one charge from it.

• "What damned trickery is this?" is Throm's response to not finding the place like they'd left it.

• It is clear this is the same hallway, but there was no door. It had been plastered over and destroyed, quite clearly.

• And again with Throm, Makin uses his wand.

• "Says somethin' about the dead ca pass an folks with a key can go from 'ere to Evermeet. Once they've paid respects. This ah.. this weren' here when we came in. In fact the whole entry were caved in."

• With the rest of her burns and wound closing she'd put a hand on Makin's arm while he used the wand, smiling in a kind of subdued and tired looking way. "So, err.. if we can't get out this way I say we follow the man here ta his door."

• "As I said," the elf nods. "It is impossible for you to have entered here."

• "And yet here we are,” Makin replies, “those were our foot prints coming down from this direction."

• "All tha fighting with tha thing was on this end of the room and it attacked as soon as we got near tha pool."

• "I will direct you." The elf offers. Throm finishes pillaging the nest, in which he finds a pair of ostrich-sized eggs, a dagger, an amulet, a short sword, and several gems. The workmanship of the items is impeccable, and they look to be elven in origin.

• “It is possible that the fountain is linked to the lake nearby," the elf comments as they return down the hall. "I will bring back more of my brothers from Aelinthaldaar and we shall see. It will be a dangerous task, chasing a harrowblade in its native environment, to be sure. But first, to Shylyndryl."

• "Before we take these, were any of these looted from this holy place? It would not be right to take them if they were."

• "The crypts of Aelinthaldaar are unspoilt," he replies. "My order has seen to it for centuries. We first guarded the tomb of Shessyll’nyir, the First Coronal of Aelinthaldaar, and all those who have come since."

• "Trust these spoils are from victims in the outlying regions," he assures them as they continue.

• "Fair enough then." Throm stows his shield, "Shall we move so that your task hunting the remaining dragon can be completed quickly."

• It is a long journey through the vast crypts, all of which are well-lit, magically, and pristine. Many elves can be seen visiting the tombs as they pass through. All of them eye the party askance, surprised at their presence, some even outraged, but the elf with you silences them all with a single look."

• "Well.. if tha's how it is then.. fmeh. Le's go see yer folks, get this talkin' to done." Says the Gnome while trying not to sound freaked out, or just otherwise hollowed out by the day's events.

• Throm doesn't appear any happier about this situation then the elves they pass, not that he has any real issues with elves, when they're not the nose in the air snob sort anyways.

• Finally you begin to ascend, up a winding stair shaped out of the same material as the rest of the place, that, as you rise higher, seems to turn just a bit more green around you. The light of the day reaches you as you come out upon a rich garden, a place of solace and remembrance. You feel yourselves feeling less weary here, and in fact there is a vibrance that seems all around you. It is hard to not enjoy the sheer beauty of the place.

• "I may not leave here," the elf says to them, standing at the threshold to the garden. "Shylyndryl comes," he points, as a hooded figure with a feminine physique approaches.

• The figure seems to almost float toward them, and she pulls her hood back. She is, perhaps the best word to describe her would be 'otherworldly.' She is no ordinary elf, and she quite radiates power. "Greetings, Neryndil," she says to elf who'd brought you this far. She looks them up and down. "These are the slayers of the Harrowblade?" He nods. How she knew this was a mystery.

• She was carrying one of the eggs. Looking strangely protective of it, in a guilty kind of way. "Aye. We are, the lot of us."

• Makin simply basks in the wonders of the garden, letting the feeling of the place wash over him warmly. He lifts his head, feeling the warmth of the light of the sun again.

• "Aye tha would be us. Mind ye twasn't our intention ta trespass in yer ancestor's resting place."

• She looks each of them over in turn. "It must have been the will of the Seldarine that you are here, in this place," she says to them. She nods to Rycael and gives a long string of elven in greeting. She turns to Throm, "Such respect from the Melairkin is rare," she says to him. "You are welcome here, though I do not think here is where you belong. Come. I will take you to Aelinthaldaar."

• Makin smiles at the woman as he moves to follow. "Long be our path I suspect."

• "Gettin tha' feelin yeah. Like a chance ta sort that out if we can?" Xerx looked up from down there. Hopeful. Weary. Vulnerable.

• "It is perhaps a day's ride to the city," she replies. "I can make the journey much quicker." As you pass the gardens there is a clear road through a thick, lush forest. Outside, many carriages and wagons as well as elves on foot pass you. There is not a non-elf in sight, however. An odd thing, to be sure.

• "I suspect my horse will be sold before we return." he says upon seeing the other animals, "I hope he will have a good life."

• She offers you the largest of the carriages, and climbs in with you after conferring with both the driver and his four horses. The top is open to the gorgeous spring day.

• Joining them in the carriage Throm sits down and wonders how much weirder this day can get?

• Xerx looked at the eggs when Makin said that. Curious in a serious way whether or not these two would. "This is not near wha' I signed up fer."

• Makin climbs in as well. "But it is an adventure Xerx." he smiles, "Would you prefer to be home, tucked up to a bowl of fried eel?"

• "After finding tha Lady's son I would have been fine with tha."

• "Compared ta killin acid spewin lizard things that're screamin at me about not lettin us kill her babies? Yeah, I'll take tha eel bowl."

• An hour goes by as you all watch the forest around you that seems lush and alive and full of vigor. Soon salty air comes to your nose, and you eventually emerge into an area of flat, coastal plains. As you see the sea, finally, the coastline looks very familiar to any of you long in Waterdeep.

• It is a different route than the one you took up the Long Road, but familiar enough landmarks loom here and there. Some of them look a bit bigger than you remember, some you expect to be there were in fact gone. Well, you did have quite a fight not hours before.

• Makin frowns. "Rycael? Where is Aelinthaldaar? The name does not ring any sort of bells."

• Rycael shrugs. "I have never heard of it before."

• "Aelinthaldaar," Shylyndryl enunciates, "The City of the Song Tree." She smiles and offers them a look. "There," she points.

• Makin moves to get a good look out toward Aelinthaldaar.

• As you clear the rise, expecting fully to see the vastness of Waterdeep beneath the prominent mountain, you instead see a wonder to your very eyes. There is no Waterdeep, only flat rolling plains nestled against a vast forest on the east and the sea in the west. But between them both, rising well over a thousand feet into the sky, is the largest tree any of you have ever bore witness to.

• Gnome stands up to get a view - still babysitting that egg in the process.

• The tree stands where the mountain in fact should be. It is so tall its tips seem to fade into the sky...

• "I do not think we are in Waterdeep any more."

• "Moradin's Beard!!!!!"

• Shylyndryl smiles and begins another long string in archaic elven, which Rycael attempts to translate. She sings, (e)"Aelinthaldaar, sing the song of the Song Tree City, where the Tel'Quessir make song beneath its bows, where they sleep the Long Sleep at its roots, where they rise home to Evermeet in the tips of its branches, o, Aelinthaldaar." More praises come, and her words carry with a tangible strength, filling all of you with a sense of awe, wonder, and courage to face whatever it is you've went and gotten yourselves into.

• She'd mutter something in Gnomish at that point. But it's brief, and beyond that speech eludes her. All she replies with are wide eyes.

• Rycael is beyond amazed. Open-mouthed awe is all she can express.

• "Evermeet." he tilts his head, "Now that I have heard about. That is where the elven people withdrew to."

• The afternoon finds you closer and closer to the tree. The forest envelopes you once more here and there, as the road dips in and out of the coastal plain and the trees, purposefully, taking its own time, but you seem to cover more distance than is readily apparent.

• Soon, elves are seen more frequently, walking along the roads in peace, along with their children. They all hail Shylyndryl and she them. "You will be my guests," she tells them at some point. "I would know how it is you arrived in the depths of our crypts."

• "Yeh, we'd kinda like ta sort out the details on that too." Xerx nods.

• "But first I think a bit of rest is in order." They come soon enough to the point where the tree towers over them, and the top disappears from their view. Spindley towers that nearly glitter in the sunlight can be seen in its myriad branches, pathways formed from the very tree itself wind all along its length. Buildings can be seen on the ground, too, between the trees, all of them looking as if they were formed from the very roots and branches of the mother tree, which is probably half as large around as the city they expected to return to...

• The closer they get, the more the air seems alive, eventually song and sound blanket them from all angles, and the mystic voices of the elves make them feel like they've traveled to another world. Or another time.

• "Truer words have I seldom heard , this has been a very long and odd journey ta say tha least."

• Finally it looks as if they entered the city itself. There were no walls or gates, but there was a distinct difference once within. The song grew more prevalent, but it was not overwhelming. Here and there, at last, signs of other races were there. A few humans to be seen, a gnome, halflings, but no dwarves, as of yet.

• "Yeah. I sense that the Anauroch would be much smaller as well should we visit it."

• The beyond colossal trees' roots loop into roadways and paths and curl into buildings and archways, towers, and, of course, trees. Animals and birds of all sorts roamed the city freely. The lights felt otherworldly, and the smells were sweet and pungent. The air felt literally magical.

• She still wasn't speaking more. Trying to wrap her head around the idea. Time seemed to be the issue, but how the blazes does that even happen?

• The carriage continued up a long path that set you all some 4-500 feet above the ground, but so solid was the tree and so wide its branches you did not feel as if you were anything but on solid ground, until you got a glimpse of the land beneath you, and the very familiar line of the Sword Coast.

• "Pardon,” Makin queries politely, “but what year is it?"

• Doing his best not to let the fact he's the only dwarf apparently in the parts overly bother him, Throm takes in the scenery and notes what is familiar and what is long gone in their period.

• Finally, the carriage comes to rest in a large square along a winding branch. The driver helps Shylyndryl out and she turns to Makin.

• "We do not measure time as you do," she tells Makin, "But to a day, Shessyl'nir founded Aelinthaldaar some 7,400 years ago."

• The Gnome's face went a bit white - where it wasn't brushed metallic green. "..We're a long ways off folks."

• "Yeah. Figured as much." he says, "But the sun still rises, blessed be Amaunator, God of the Eternal Sun, Lord of the Lawful, Bringer of Order from Chaos, Father of Time Immemorial."

• Throm lets out a long whistle then sits right down on the ground " I need a drink, or ten just hearing tha."

• She smiles. "Yes, it is Amaunator whose light lets the Song Tree take root here," she nods. "Otherwise, it could not be seen outside of our ancient homeland." She motions for them to follow. "This is the Inn of Willowind," she says to them, "I will make arrangements for you here. They are... the most courteous to guests of your sort in our fair city." She gives them a small bow. "I will call for you on the morn, so that we may discuss more of what we might discover."

• With that, she leads you inside, makes arrangements for you, and gives her leave. What a nice lady.

• The Gnome, still holding onto an egg, watches her leave and exhales slowly. "..We need ta talk, when we can get some privacy…"
A.J.
 
Posts: 245
Joined: Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:46 pm

Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Wed May 06, 2015 11:48 am

Session 9

• The Gnome had to wait til they were all in their room for that. Something had been weighing on her since she figured things out earlier, while their hosts were still showing them around. At some point or another they're all together, in private, at least briefly - and then? "So ah.. we need ta talk folks."

• The elf nods, though she lets the others begin the conversation.

• "I was sort of hoping to take a nap and wake up from this nightmare meself?" Throm says.

• The rooms look simply like open spaces in the branches of a great tree, like your space is one emptied in the bore of the trunk naturally. You are given two rooms in which to bunk up, each with a pair of beds, a wash basin, and a plate of bread and a pitcher of water.

• Makin had found himself a seat to watch the setting sun, a sun that had set before or was it only now just setting? “Father of Time Immemorial,” he whispered.

• There are no doors, only long strands of ivy that separate the spaces, even to the outer hall. But somehow when you enter the music that permeates this places keeps the sounds of the outside world out.

• Xerx finds someplace to set down, heavily. Shrugging in what might well be disbelief of.. well, she's getting to that. "So this place ain' here when we left, ya? Cuz it gets frickin.. ya know, scoured off the face of tha world, an it's due ta happen within tha year at most."

• Makin frowns, "What?"

• "The place where we're at?” Xerx explains, “Gets razed to tha ground. Real soon. We need ta figure out how ta get back home an we can't waste time doin it."

• Throm's starts rubbing the bridge of his nose "Why..does tha no surprise me with our luck so far?"

• "That would be when the elves left the world for Evermeet?" Makin queries.

• "Err.. sorta, Makin. That happens, yeah - city we're in gets proper fucked first."

• Makin smiles a bit, looking toward the east. "That would possibly mean the Anaurach does not yet exist as a desert, those crazy Netheril fuckers are still flying their damn mountains over where my homeland will be."

• None of this seems to be amusing Throm by the way he's grinding his teeth now.

• Rycael tilts her head in confusion with every curse word used, apparently not having been told what they meant. {elven acented common} "Perhaps there way to rescue my kin?"

• "Dwarven nations would still be in full power?" Makin says softly, looking toward Throm.

• "If this truly time before..." Rycael wonders.

• "Feck. This is a mess.. how'd we even get here? Must'a been before tha dragon thingy, right? So earlier in the tunnels - cept the door we came in's the one ain' able ta get out.."

• “Well,” Makin begs the question, “do we make the best of things or work on trying to get back?"

• Throm has questions of his own. "You have to help me here, tha sort of history isn't my thing? WHat is goinga ta happen?"

• "Dunno exactly Throm - ain't too well recorded. Elves wen back to Evermeet yeah, but this city in particular? S'where Waterdeep is later, n' all tha's left of it's ruins. Gets wiped off the map, right 'round now history wise."

• "Think of all the things we can put right that once went wrong." Makin suggests.

• “It must be the work of the Seldarine.” Rycael comments.

• The Gnome glares straight at Makin. "Ey! None a that! Tha' kinda shite ends as bad as anything ever ends. Ya hear? Maybe ya do the wrong shit 'n Waterdeep ain't there when we get home, or Athkatla ain't, or your parents don't meet?"

• "It ends bad? How do you know this? What would make you think that?" Makin seems unconvinced.

• Ry leans against the wall, moving a hand over it as if she can feel the life in the tree. "The will of the Seldarine. Perhaps this is test. If we can save my-" she glances at the dwarf, "-our- kin, why are we not to do so?"

• "My vote?” Xerx replies, “We see if tha young noble ended up here too, then we get our butts back home a'fore we screw anythin' up."

• "We could make things worse, or we could be tha cause of the things going bad in tha first place?" Throm notes.

• "Or we save our people." the elf states simply with a quiet determination.

• Makin also counters, "Or .. stop the start of the Anauruch, save Mystryl's life, keep magic laws as they are?"

• Ambitious much?

• "I would not mind at least seeing where the desert is,” Makin muses, “See it before it was destroyed."

• The sun finally sets as you continue discussing your current predicament. There is a soft glow all around you that makes it comfortable to rest in.

• What makes you think we could change what's going to happen even ifin we decided to?" Throm asks.

• That gets the elf to pause. After a long moment she looks down and lets out a soft sigh. "I not know how." she admits honestly.

• "Lord of Time,” Makin replies, “would not have made this possible if it were not for a purpose."

• "We got ta this time from this city, right?” Xerx ponders, “So stands ta reason the way we get back's in the same place, in that tomb thingy. Now.. it's kinda still there later, so maybe it survives fine - still, don' wanna take the chance."

• "True." Rycael nods to Makin, "I *felt* the presence of the Great Archer in that temple. The Seldarine must have purpose of us hunting here."

• "And this time ... it just feels so much .. more." Makin says, not quite certain of the words. "It is as though the gods are closer, as though every fiber of my being tingled with greater portions of the weave."

• Throm suggests, "Then I suppose we should find out if tha damned noble ended up here as well?"

• Ry looks back to Throm, "You right, we must find him. Not damned, though. We track him down." she nods confidently.

• The Gnome meanders a bit, finding some of her supplies in her satchel. Mostly she fishes out ink and quill and parchment, then starts scratching. "Ken someone find out what day it is, like in specific? Please? Maybe what's up with tha moons an- neh, I'll look into that myself later."

• "I am... guest here, too. But maybe I can talk to my kin?" The elf suggests to the gnome.

• You were shown to these rooms to rest, on the promise that you would be taken to see Lanigar, the High Mage, in the morning. Once he has questioned you, Shylyndryl inferred you would be free to do as you wished.

• "After we see High Sha- er, High Mage..." Rycael amends

• Makin nods, "I should get some rest so that I may greet Amaunator at dawn."

• You all settle in to bed and have one of the most restful nights of your lives.

• Morning comes eventually, and when you all finally make it upstairs, as the rooms at the Willowy were below the main commons, you find Shylyndryl and a small retinue of elves, 2 males and 2 females, all armed and armored, awaiting you patiently.

• Partly due to her lack of need for true sleep, Rycael is early enough to likely be the first to meet the other group, waiting patiently with them for her own party.

• As noted, Makin is up before dawn to greet the sun so he can make his prayers.

• First thing the Gnome had gotten to doing upon getting up was paging through her spell book, but that was normal. Right? Right. Then yes, eventually there's.. armed guards. Which gets her looking a tad less comfortable perhaps. "Err, mornin there."

• "Greetings, Travelers," she says to them. "I trust you are well rested? Lanigar awaits."

• The armed escort isn't that much of a surprise in Throm's mind, important folks always have guards after all cause they always have someone out to kill them.

• "If you will follow me," Shylyndryl says, leading you out the door by holding the vines back. The sky outside is bright and clear and you can see the Sword Coast as it leads south and away from you. There is no visible harbor to speak of, not that you can see, anyway, but it looks like hundreds of ships come and go just like they did in Waterdeep. However, there is a difference, as you can see towers and spires jutting out of the water and dipping beneath. In this age, the city of the aquan elves was visible to all.

• Makin waits, bowing slightly in greeting. "Good morn. Are we able to break our fast?"

• Rycael doesn't look bothered in the least by the guards, politely exchanging pleasantries with them in Elven.

• Xerx rather figured she'd be leaving her sword behind - odds are that wasn't optional. So the Gnome followed along promptly, if slightly nervously. Maybe occasionally knocking her fingers against Throm's armor with a dull clink sound.

• "Yes, my attendants have prepared a small meal in expectation of your kinds eternal hunger." She nods them into her open-topped carriage. There is a basket of sugared, warm bread, fresh fruit, and a bit of fresh juice. "Please, help yourselves," she offers as they climb in and make themselves comfortable.

• Makin climbs in and collects himself of a warm bit of bread and some fruit as well as a glass of juice. He leans against the wall, looking toward the window.

• "Thank you, Sister." Rycael says in elven as she takes her own small portion of the offered meal, ever polite and ever happy since they got here.

• Throm thanks their hosts and then helps himself to some food, manages not to grumble about the lack of any meat.

• The Gnome appears to favor the fruit anyway, and eats kind of on the light side.

• You marvel at the natural architecture of the place as you rise high into the branches of Aelinthaldaar. The sun and song penetrate everywhere, even the shadows are soft, and the light is never too bright. Silvers and blues abound, as do birds and other flying animals you don't quite recognize. However, it's when you clear a certain set of branches that the sky above you becomes visible and you see them, or notice them, really, for the first time. The forest had covered them from your vision before.

• Airships. There were literally thousands of them. From delicate, dragonfly-esque things with only a pair of passengers to large schooner-sized sailing vessels, only they sailed the skies! How very organized they came and went from the city, mirroring in the skies what happened in the seas below, it seemed. Oh it was a wonder like none other from what you all have ever seen. It's a bit difficult not to stare slack-jawed at it.

• And stare Rycael does, though she does pick up her jaw from the floor, after a moment or two...

• As the ships arrived, swooping in from the east, and leaving to the west, they disappeared into docks high above, and you could see still they were much, much higher than you, and you were much much higher than the ground, at this point. Then, they are gone from view as an overhead branch (more like a road) obstructs them from your view once more.

• "This is all ... quite astounding,” Makin comments. “The things that are able to be accomplished with unrestrained magic."

• Xerx doesn't speak. Just stops to stare up quietly for a while until they get a little too far ahead of her. Then there's the sound of her running to catch up, but still no words from the Gnome.

• Soon the carriage leads you beneath a broad archway, and you enter vastly open plain, a plateau of sorts near the center of the tree where what looks to be the heart of the city of Aelinthaldaar lives. You wind through streets full of statuary, gardens, flowers, trees, and elves until you come toe a very tall tower that lies off to the west, its uppermost spire disappearing into the tree above. The carriage slows again to pick Xerx back up, the elf who was trailing her coming up quietly beside them as well.

• "Here we are then," Shylyndryl says after a moment. She closes her eyes briefly and opens them. "He will be waiting for us." She leads you up the steps to this tower and within. The ground floor is filled with the statuary of the Seldarine, elven art, and a few items of historical value. Three ovals line the walls. She moves to the one on the right and says something inaudible. The silvery wood of the wall shimmers and beyond lies what looks like a formal meeting room opening to a balcony with a view of the sea. She steps through and beckons you forward. "Come," she says softly.

• Makin stands, slipping from the carriage. He quickly follows along, offering a grin toward Xerx and Throm.

• She still wasn't saying much, which might be due to the lingering sense of awe about the place. Or the horrible prospects of what had happened to them. Or anxiety about being interrogated.

• Makin pauses near the ovals, "What are these intended to do?"

• Rycael points at the runes, "Same as temple door before."

• Well, not the "same" per se, but the way they're written looks vaguely similar.

• "It is a portal, my dear Priest of Light," she explains. "Lanigar is not found by normal means, typically."

• "The script is just far older than I am used to reading." he nods, "But that may be expected."

• "Don' have words fer all this.." Simple enough phrase really, but heartfelt. Xerx kept up but that was the best she could manage.

• Ry steps through the portal as well.

• Shylyndryl tilts her head at that comment, but remains waiting patiently. Once you have all crossed over you sense a bit of a shift in the atmosphere. The air is cooler, and the elevation *much* higher. The room is full of books and studious-looking equipment, as well as a long table covered in scrolls and maps as well as a great many other various things. The far wall simply opens out into the sky and ends on a wide terrace.

• Makin steps through, following them through.

• All in all the room is approximately 60' long, and it seems like a place where a great many people spend a great deal of their time. On the balcony, a figure has his back to you.

• Aside from you and Shylyndryl, the others do not follow you. (e)"Esteemed One," Shylyndryl begins, "I am here with the Travelers, as you requested." The figure turns.

• Lanigar is a tall sun elf, with a single braid that runs down the length of his back and nearly touches the floor, but not quite. He wears a laurel band about his head, whose leaves part to reveal his forehead and the floating, shimmering orb there. His robes are silvery and shift colors based on the light around him. His shirt is open down his bare chest, and his feet bare. His staff is milky white and looks to be made of glass. He radiates the sort of power that commands your immediate respect. His eyes are a blue of the sky after a long spring rain, when the clouds have gone and all you want to do is be outside, underneath the blue. On his fingers are 3 simple rings, one of which is a green unlike any other you’ve seen. Well, most of you. The patio overlooks the sea, and he turns from the railing toward you. He does not seem to move, but suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you. The feeling is not unlike feeling like you have been drawn toward him.

• Again, Ry looks wildly impressed. She bows to the sun elf, respectfully.

• “Welcome to the City of the Song Tree, Travelers,” he says to them. His voice is even and measured and like liquid honey. “I am Lanigar.”

• He looks them all over in turn, quietly, astutely, briefly. His eyes linger a bit on Rycael.

• Makin watches, his eyes trying to take it all in. Letting himself feel the whole of it, let the magic soak into him, enjoying the extra power radiating out.

• He blinks at Rycael and asks her, (e) "From whence do you come, Tel-Quessir?"

• "The Ardeep Forest, Grand One." she replies quickly.

• Well he did introduce himself. She couldn't follow all the elven being spoken, but she does at least return that courtesy. "Xerxsephira Griphilik Rustgore, sir."

• "I am Rycael, of the Irra clan." she adds.

• "A pleasure," he returns to the gnome briefly. (e)"Ardeep you say?" He thinks for a moment. "This is a very old name, one not used since Aryvandaar joined with Illefarn after the fall of the Vyshaan. How is it you do not know of Aelinthaldaar, born though you were not a flight from it." He continues to look them all over. "I sense not the presence of another's magic here," he comments to Shylyndryl. "Nor some sort of geas." He frowns, but it was still a handsome thing. He glances at Shylyndryl. "You are right. They truly do not know."

• "I... I am unsure, Grand One. Words fail me for this." she says, unsure of her ability to say *we're from the future!*

• {E} "Sir, I am Makin Khoury Shamsal, of the area currently known as Netheril, since it still exists. The words she speaks are accurate. This place, your great city is what we call home many centuries from now."

• She really.. really wished she knew what the free falling hells they were saying. As it was she had to settle for shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot and glancing toward the sky on occasion.

• He looks long and hard at both Throm and Makin. "The Melairkyn," he comments to Shylyndryl, "I can see the sea in his eyes. It is our sea, yet it is not." He moves to Makin, or, rather, it feels like you're all drawn to him and suddenly he is in front of Makin. "This one, has a conviction for a dead god, yet, Aumanautor is strong as the sun lies in the skies today." When Makin speaks, he shakes his head. "Preposterous," he says. There is a small smirk at the corner of his mouth, however, an intense curiosity.

• Rycael glances over at Makin, surprised he was so blunt... not that she wished to withhold such information. {E} "Grand One, what the human says is true. I was... unsure how to phrase the words."

• "I..." his hand goes up, as if making a signal for someone to halt. He turns to look at the balcony. "Apologies," he says with a small smile. "I am about to have company. We will discuss this another time. For now, feel free to explore our beautiful city." With that, he turns and walks toward the balcony. Another elf in flowing robes suddenly pops into view. They have a discussion which you cannot hear at this distance, and then they are gone. "This way," Shylyndryl offers, showing them back to the portal.

• "Err.. sir, if I ken ask first? What's the date, an specific year?" The little one stopped there to ask. Sheepish, but too curious to stay silent. "Gotta couple things I need ta sort out."

• "Well that went well." he observes as they are lead back thru the portal "He'll either think we're crazy, lying or maybe telling tha truth?"

• He gives Xerx the date and year as the elves reckon it. It is not even remotely close to the Calendar of Harptos.

• Even as the High Mage turns to leave again, Rycael bows again.

• "The Netheril, they still float their mountains in the sky?" he asks of Shy as they exit the place.

• "You mean the Netherese," Shylyndryl corrects. "We may one day regret we ever taught them the ways of the Weave," she comments. By her demeanor, the answer to Makin's question was 'yes.'

• ...Yeah, that made the Gnome even less comfortable. She'd glance at Makin and that topic warily, then back at the ovals as they left. Still wanted to see the night sky from there.

• Shylyndryl adds as they return outside. "The sky is the demesne of all."

• "So they have not yet torn the weave and destoyed my people's lands. This is why the world feels so bright and full of magic." he nods, "It makes sense."

• "Up unto this place you will be given free reign of the city," Shylyndryl says to them. "But beyond here only your friend would be allowed to pass." She bows somewhat apologetically. "There are many wonders below, I assure you," she offers. "You have my carriage to travel about, if you need it, and Joxixal here to escort and answer any questions you may have." One of the male elves who'd been escorting them stiffens at the name and steps forward. "At your service," he says thickly, his common much like Rycael's. She eyes Makin askance and shakes her head as if he rambles inanities. "Perhaps you require more rest," she suggests.

• "Thank ye fer your hospitality Milady, we'll do our best not ta cause any trouble while we're here." offers as he subtley elbows the human in the side .

• She nods slowly. "Such a well-mannered Melairkyn," she replies. "You will not be easily forgotten."

• Makin nods to Throm, "Fairwell Lady Shylyndryl." he nods, "We will look forward to exploring."

• Been a pleasure, lady." Xerx’d bow a little there, then end up smiling at Joxixal. Trying to ease the tension perhaps? "Any way ya could point me to whatever markets are around?"

• "There are several," Joxixal says stiffly. "What sort of wares does the Little One wish to peruse?"

• "Scrolls 'n the like mostly. ..Maybe some measurin' tools an looking glasses,” Xerx replies.

• With that, it would seem that the first place to hit in the fabulous, Song-Tree City of Aelinthaldaar, would be... the Mall?
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Wed May 06, 2015 12:31 pm

Session 10

• "Why are you here?" comes a question not long after you say your farewells to Shylyndryl. You see a trio of elves, what look to be a priest, a mage, and hunter of some sort. The mage eyes you from down the bridge of his nose and when he sees Rycael he barely stifles a sneer.

• The Gnome has no hesitation in answering it seems. Hell she even smiles in spite of their demeanor. "Fixin to find out where a human boy went an' got off to. S'mother's missin him, an payin folks ta find him."

• Rycael bows politely, not seeming to notice the mage's reaction, though the gnome answers before her.

• “Humans have no place in Aelinthaldar. None who are not elves do," he replies. The elf next to him, the priest of Corellon, from the looks of it, seems as if he would speak. (e)"Quiet, Torynnar," the mage says quickly.

• One might expect a dwarf to take offense at the Elf's manner and tone there, not so, Throm instead casually lights up his pipe and eyes the trio casually as he puffs. Now the dwarf is smiling at the mage.

• He looks after them toward the tower. "Ones who have business with the High Mage, it seems, and his pet druidess. Again, I ask, why are you here?"

• "I ah, kinda answered that already?" She raised an eyebrow with faint hues of green laced through it. "Tried to anyway."

• "I doubt he would concern himself with a missing (elven insult for human)," he replies.

• {elven} "As my friend has said, we seek a human we believe to have found himself here." Rycael replies in a respectful tone. Talking was not quite her forte, but she was quite in awe of the city.

• The Gnome's arms cross under her chest as she purses her lips. "Ya didn't ask why he wanted ta see us, ya asked why we were here."

• "And why he wanted to see us frankly, tiss none of yer business." Throm says at last and with a even bigger smile blows a huge smoke ring right at the elf's nose.

• Ry's smile falters somewhat, glancing at her friends, {elven accented common} "We guests here." she reminds them softly.

• The narrows his eyes at the gnome, but the cleric at his side finally speaks up. "Lythane, please. We have more important matters than to waste time here." Lythane puffs up his chest, but the other elf steps in front of him when Throm blows the smoke in his comrade’s face. "Watch yourself, Melairkyn. You're out of your section.” Torynnar moves them along and mouths an apology to the group, but before they depart, Lythane says, "I will be watching you." And with that, they continue into the elf-only portion of the city.

• Turning to Rycael Throm nods in agreement "Aye tha we are, which is why I was being polite to our fine Elf here and suggesting he move along."

• Ry gives an elven farewell to the trio, though from habit the phrase used was more common among her wild-elf tribe. Regardless, the good intent was there.

• Makin just grins. "Lovely people these. Quite welcoming. And obviously concerned for our well being to note they will be watching us."

• "Well, at least one seemed alright?" Seemed was all Xerx could say really. Demeanor spoke a lot but she understood not a word of elven. There was a moment she stared at Lythane's retreating form though and muttered the dwarven equivalent of "poncy jerk.." under her breath.

• Makin smiles broadly, "Was there some shopping that needed to be done?"

• Throm snerks.

• What was curious, perhaps, is that Joxixal said nothing during the entire encounter. He merely stood look as if tending the horses of your borrowed carriage that stood not far off.

• The Gnome shrugged up to Makin, but seemed in a decent mood in spite of the encounter. "Might as well see if there's anythin interestin while we can? Might spot the lad in the markets too. If we're lucky."

• "Tha we might Xerx, and I be a bit curious what they price stuff round this time?" Throm says.

• I sense they would know if there were a human man wandering the city. At least if he were in human form."

• As you make your way toward the carriage, Joxixal opens the door and offers his assistance a bit stiffly, but politely.

• The Gnome climbs in a bit awkwardly at first, but settles in easily enough. She also thanks the elf on the way in.

• He nods curtly. "Where to?" His accent is thick. He knows common but is apparently unused to using it. "If it is wares you seek, the Great Bazaar will most likely have whatever you are looking for."

• Throm climbs into the carriage as well "Well if the Lad came out of tha place thru the top he may have tried to go back to where the town was last he knew?"

• Makin climbs up in once again. "Great Bazaar it is then." he says in a smooth elven tongue.

• A soft word from Joxixal and the horses canter up. You're on your way. He veers left, away from the way you came, and you dip a bit in elevation as you travel through Aelinthaldaar's winding streets.

• "Sounds like as good an idea as we're likely ta get few tha moment,” Xerx says.

• You come into a wide swath of trees, above you airships sail across the sky in neat, orderly rows as they flow in and out of the city's air port. Some wagons you even see with pieces of these shining, amazing creations, a blend of magic and technology. The sounds of music that are ever present in air around you increase considerably in volume, but fill your hearts with a desire for revelry and the enjoyment that comes from perusing fine wares and mysterious baubles.

• Xerx manages not to revel too much - she might break shit if she did. There were absolutely things she was hunting for in that market though. Scrolls if she could find them, and anyone with rare metal would find her poking around.

• "I am low on funds at this time,” Makin comments, “I do need to look at what they have to offer in this time."

• His curiosity will send Throm searching for the armor and weapon shops. Despite their tendency for foppery the pointy eared folks produce quite capable smiths and he's not a racial snob when it comes to good craftmanship.

• Joxixal stops the carriage in front of a large, open-aired market. The smell of food and leathers was tangible in the air. He dismounts and lets the party out of the carriage, pointing to a tavern up a flight of wispy-looking stairs, with an open deck that overlooks the bazaar. It was quite a beautiful place to dine and people watch. "I would stay away from that place," he recommends, "Lest ye find yourselves at the mercy of others with similar ideals as Lythane." He thumbs over his shoulder. "Down there is where you will find it... easier for you to purchase whatever it is you may be looking for." He thumbs his chin in thought when Xerx mentions precious metals. "Well, might be for your kind, Master Thistleburrow might be of usefulness." He moves his head again indicating a lower ward on the east side of the market. "He's down there, too. Metallurgist. Builds all sorts of curious things."

• Makin is ready, "Right, downward it is ... "

• Xerx replies, "Sounds like someone I'd enjoy meetin' yea. No urge to linger up here given what ya said."

• Makin gives Jox a bow, "Thank you for your assistance sir." he says in a low elven.

• "My pleasure," he replies to Makin.

• "Aye much appreciated." Throm adds then trods along after the others.

• Even the air seems to change as you take a stair into a shadow-filled section of the city. The whimsical images of above disappear and give way to a more grungy, familiar setting. These alleys are steeped in shadows of the city above at all times. Soft, magical lighting makes a dim path you can follow. Once down in the stalls, you find a decent amount of non-humans, and of the few elves you do see, they are cowled and covered from head to toe as not to be conspicuous.

• "Wonder if there are entrances to Skullport here even now?" Makin comments absently.

• There are shops of all kinds, mostly dwarven, selling weapons and armor all with the same house stamp. In a darker corner, a small shop that looks like its full of curios sits snugly in a corner. Items of unknowable function line the pathway around this shop, but most of it looked like junk. The window pane was etched with the name "Bram's" in a simple script.

• "Not sure there's a Skullport yet?" Xerx comments - then stops as they pass by that shop. Fingers running over the insignia on the dwarven wares. She squinted some - "Throm, come look at this?"

• Makin thinks about it. "Hmm, that is true I suppose. Will make for an interesting few questions to ask."

• Throm trundles on over to the Gnome "Aye what is it?" and tries to see what has her eye? He stands there for a few moments examining the maker's marks on the piece and lets out a long, slow whistle "Well Bless me beard, never figured ta see one of these outside a dragon's hoard."

• "Some old House Insignia, right?" Xerx raised her eyebrow a bit. Rubbing the back of her neck idly, which had a curious metal scraping on metal sound to it.

• "Aye tha it is,” Throm replies, “Clan Melairkyn to be exact, first Clan ta find Mithral in these parts and were tha best working with it, even during our time we still use their methods."

• Makin says, “Fascinating. Is there something fabulous to be found within then?"

• It would likely be mithral items that are wrought like none others before them. Or since.

• Xerx’d pluck gently at her chain shirt - made of exactly that same metal. "Huh.. well, shall we?"

• Rycael follows the others, seeming less at ease in this part of the city. At several glances from passerby, she tries staring at the street and keep from being noticed.

• "Just may be?" Throm says and looks at Makin, "Figuire you could check ta see ifin tha sheen on them is magic?"

• "Sheen on which is magical?" he asks, "I can detect magic if that is what you are asking my friend."

• "No majicks," comes a barreling voice from a nearby doorway. "Din ya knows Melairkyn wares when ye sees em lad?" He frowns at Throm. "No, no Melairkyn be ye. What clan ye hail'n from then?" It's a wide, blackbearded dwarf who addresses them, leather aprom marked him as a smith. He says the word 'magic' as if the g was a j and a y mixed together.

• The Gnome was grinning by then. Even ended up laughing a little, and reaching to give said wide dwarf's belly an experimental pat. "Mithral doesn' need magic ta shine. Though ah.. mine's got both. Lookin’ fer something else though."

• "Melairkyn mithral," he says, grabbing a nearby axe. "Strongest mithral ever made. Won't rust. Even acid doesn't destroy it. But we need no majicks to make it." "You try," he tosses the axe at Throm.

• "No though it seems tha is what nearly ever elf here has called me so far." Throm turns around and nods respectfully to the dwarf "a younger son of a minor clan in tha Sword Mountains and I guess the age must have dulled shine off the piece I'd seen." His hand comes up and catches the axe and he immediately moves it about to get a feel for the balance.

• "Eh boy? Whassat? Boy where ye comes from dinnae they teach ye te be proud of your kith? What's yer clan, boyo?" The axe is masterwork, indeed. In fact, the balance is perfect. It too, seems to gleam just a bit more than even the finest mithral he's seen.

• Throm replies in dwarven, "Clan Shieldbreaker."

• Clearly not understanding much of the thick dwarven accents filling the air, Rycael quietly leans against the wall, now avoiding eye contact with passerby.

• Xerx didn't seem to get his attention terribly well - so she busied herself checking around the man's shop for signs of oddities. Particularly any metal that matched her hands

• He gives Throm a firm handshake, forearm gripped tightly. "Brennae Melairkyn. Come on in an' see what else Oy've got?"

• Makin follows Xerx on into 'the shop'

• It is 100% mithral everywhere. Everything is made from it.

• Throm returns the handshake firmly and follows in after him "Throm, and I be delighted to ." handing the axe back to him as he does.

• Seeing only mithral, Xerx wanders over to Bram’s. And Makin follows Xerx over there.

• With little to do here, Ry wanders to the other shop as well.

• Throm remains in the smith’s shop, perusing his wares.

• There is a small 'dong-ding' as Xerx opens the door to the shop marked "Bram's." The inside is filled with many small items that can only be described as 'gizmos.' A flittering creature greets you at the door. It looks like a tiny dragon, except, it's a construct. Its wings flap so quickly as to be nearly invisible, and it darts away as you enter the place. "Come in, come in," calls a voice from the way back. The inside is lined with aisles whose shelves stretch to the oddly patterned ceiling, which seems to have a general design element that involves many elipses and circles. Pinpoints of light seem to illuminate the place enough to see things clearly, but not so much as to make it anywhere near bright. A pungent aroma wafts through the place, as does the smoke whence it originates.

• Now that was more like it. Xerx let out a long 'ooooooh' at all the things, mostly though at the little dragon thing. She ended up giggling a bit, trying to poke it as it passed by. Slowly making it closer to the back of the shop.

• Throm moves through the smith's shop, and Brennae notices his friends don't follow him. "Ye'd do well with better comp'ny 'n those, lad," he offers. "Why're ye out here with the elves, an elf in tow, even. What's in it fer you?"

• Throm looks back towards the door and shrugs "They're not a bad bunch actually and the wood elf doesna have her nose so high in tha air she canna see the ground like most of the ones round here."

• As Xerx and the others near the back counter, they see a small figure, most likely a gnome, seated on a nigh-translucent disc of force, surrounded by gadgets and instruments, he floats around another object, making adjustments and adding things to it. When you get a clear glimpse it looks like the skeleton of a large predatory cat. He does not turn to look at you, but rather one of the monocles on his head does. "Yes, do come... oh, I say..." He perks up and turns directly to look at Xerx.

• Brennae grunts in agreement. "At least yer fer knowin' what's what, it seems," he says. "Now," he eyes his gear. "I think I know jes what ye needs."

• "Nice .. skeleton type thing of .. whatever that is." Makin nods sagely.

• While the 'creatures' didn't quite seem natural, they still piqued the elf's interest.

• The gnome offers Xerx his greeting in their native tongue, “Ohbutarightfinedayitisteseeanotherkinsman...er...woman..." he says rather rapidly. "Sitsitdooosit. Please, sit." He takes a long pull on the very longstemmed pipe, blowing the pungent smoke out the side of his face and away from them. He glances at Makin. "It's an effigy son," he says to him. "Or soon will be." He bonks it with the stem of his pipe. An aside to Xerx, "Keepsdroppinitsownclaws," he nods. "Iknowright?" "I be BramThistleburrow." He eyes Xerx's hands. "Mymydearyranintoameteordidwe?" "May I?" he asks, indicating her hands.

• "He does seem to have your gift for gab. Wonder if he is your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great ... well you get the picture .. grandfather." Makin chides.

• And gnomish was lost on her as well. Rycael shrugs, busying herself with browsing the shelves.

• Xerx’d march right up, still wearing that smile. Light occasionally catching on the metal veins and knuckles. The cat's what she seems to be approaching for the most part.. or at least it's the excuse. She'd grin, a little gap between her two front teeth that didn't often get seen. (Gnomish) "S'goodtoseeyoutoothere, fineworkwiththemechanicsandthelike." Then she'd raise a hand, almost daintily really. Held out in the same way you'd see someone taking an arm for a dance. "Bemyguest, XerxsephiragGriphlikRustgore. Beenkeepinganeyeoutformoreofthemetaltouse, hopedyoumighthaveit."

• (g)"GreatGondsClockworkPetunias!" he exclaims. "Nowherelassiewhattayedonetoyerselfandyerprettyhandshere?" A click and a whirr and several layers of ocular elements lay themselves out before his eyes, magnifying whatever it is he's looking at. "Nowseehereitsgoneand..." He looks up, brushing the multitudinous lenses back with a wave of his hand that doesn't touch them in the slightest. "Yeknow what this means do ya?"

• Though she didn't know the gnomish tongue, the slower speech causes Rycael to glance at the gnomes curiously.

• For those eyeing the gnome's work as he converses with Xerx, they do see the skeleton of large predatory cat. In fact, it's quite larger than others you've seen before. Its jaw holds two very long upper fangs, perhaps somewhere near two feet, in fact. Its claws, disassembled on the table before you, are 4-6 inches long at least. The small dragon flits about above them, stopping on occasion to rest on a perch near the ceiling before swooping in as they eye a particularly delicate item. It is not aggressive toward them, but its mere presence is enough to keep them on their best behavior.

• The word Xerx said was a clear enough one for it. Not in Gnomish either, so Rycael could at least gather a little more of the conversation. "Starmetal." That grin just spreads a little further. "Changingmyself. Slowly. Needmoreofitthough. Atleastapoundthoughtwo'dbebetter." The Gnome's examination shows no actual seams to speak of where there would be clear borders, the flesh and metal seem to just flow right from one to the other.

• Bram makes several odd blustery noises at Xerx, his eyes roll back in his head a bit. "Nowsaylassiewhatwouldyegoanddothatfer...oh!" Suddenly his eyes widen. He glances at the dragon, then Xerx. The lenses come up and he examines her hand again. One particular lense glows orange ony briefly. "Ohhhh," he nods slowly. "I see." He thinks for a minute. "Onesec," he says, and the disc floats him somewhere behind the counter, into a back room. From the sound of the rummaging, there is another room below, too. The dragon sets itself with a few light clicks on the countertop, eyeing them all politely as if saying 'please await my master's return.'

• “NowifnIhadsomewell," he says to Xerx as he reappears. "Itdnotbefersale,no." He sets a very old set of tarnished discs on a ring before her. The metal is a deep green and there is at least 3 solid pounds here. Upon these plates are written old runes. The discs are in sore disrepair and in need of salvaging. It is possible, and rather likely, that they were mistaken for the last years of brass and tossed in a junk pile. But brass this item is not. He does not release the item for perusal. "NowImightbeopentetradinferitsee," he says to Xerx. "Ineedssomethintocompletefeliciaoverthere," he thumbs at the giant feline skeleton. "Ineedtherealthing. Ineedtestudyitandgetitworkinright. Ineedapaw. Or few."

• "Somegnomesmakethings, somemakethingsofthemselves. I'mdoinboth." Xer’d meander to the dragon while they were waiting. No threatening motions, but she did examine it closely. Maybe try to run a finger over some of the contours. Then those discs show up.. eyes go wide, and she's by them in moments. Fingers tracing at runes already. "These.." She squints, seeing if she can read them..

• "Ananythinelseyecangetsfromit," he goes on. "Yelooksthesortwhatcouldhandlesyerselveseh? OrisolBramoffhismark?" He's offering them to you, for trade.

• Throm spends a bit talking shop with Melairkyn before walking and out over towards the shop where his companions vanished into. On his belt is a shiny new hammer.

• As Xerx's interest perks, Bram pulls the discs from the countertop and secrets them on his person. Then he floats over to the skeleton and grabs a book lying there. He tosses it down and it shows a diagram and a crude drawing. It describes what sounds like a rather lethal feline predator.

• Xerx'd curl her lip a little again, albeit eyes still following the discs. "Might be. Sword 'n spell. Ya got somethin needs tendin to?"

• "Look like Red Tiger," Rycael frowns. "Dangerous."

• Bram shrugs, looking at Xerx. "Elves. Seeitscarcassbackherelassandthemdiscsareyours. Iheardstoriesabout'emintheforeststotheeast. Rightalongtheplainsplaguingdwarfminersallthetime. Might be worth looking into." The short of it is if you want the discs, Bram's asking you bring the carcass of this animal back so he might further study it.

• She'd glance at Throm, clearly Xerx was excited about something - then to Rycael, Makin.. "Think we can spare a look 'bout tha woods? Maybe ask tha dwarf miners if they've seen tha kid while we're at it?"

• Throm joins them once again, saying, "Couldna hurt to ask and may as well make ourselves useful while we're about."

• As Makin looks about the shop he notices the edge of a small sun sticking out from under a bit of cloth used to display another item. "And lets take a look at that, " he says, pulling the cloth loose from it.

• As Makin pulls the cloth loose, he sees a white belt attached to a sunstone buckle. The sunstone is shaped, surprisingly, like a sun. "Ah yes quite a thing the Healer's Belt," Bram nods without looking up. The dragon is already hovering near Makin, fixing the cloth he lifted.

• "Ooooh. Pretty. Makin likie."

• "Yebringsthewholecarcassbackyecanhavesthattoo," he leans in and tells Xerx. "Notgonnabeeasygettininintothecity,though," he nods. "Be sure of that."

• After realizing what the gnome was... making... Rycael eyes the skeletal frame warily...

• "Lanigar hisself commissioned it," Bram glances at Rycael. "ButhismistresswouldntapproveIdunthink," he says, another aside to Xerx in rapid-speak.

• "Sounds like a screaming deal for sure." He looks at the elf, "Do you think we can take one of these tigers?"

• “Perhaps.”

• Xerx pursed her lips a little. Eyeballing the skeleton. "Le's see what we can do folks."
Last edited by A.J. on Tue Jun 23, 2015 6:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
A.J.
 
Posts: 245
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Wed May 13, 2015 9:40 am

Session 11

• Now that the shopping was done, perhaps it was time to return to the Willowy Inn, collect your gear, and plan your strategy for the hunt in the forests to the east of Aelinthaldaar. The beast Bram seeks, he says, has established known hunting grounds to the south of the Lake Reflection there. From what you can tell, this lake occupies the marshy swampland to the northeast of where, in the current timeline, Stump Bog would have been (the marsh northeast of Rassalantar).

• Rycael was quiet since the gnome's shop with a pensive look on her face.

• In contrast the dwarf was looking in much better spirits from his dealing with his fellow dwarf. "What's tha matter there LAss?" he asks noticing the elf's quietness.

• Makin frowns, "Anyone know anything about that area during this time? Additional dangers we might have beyond what there was in our time?"

• {elven accented common} "I no wish to hunt animal just to let gnome make abomination of it." Rycael says flatly.

• Bram mentions something about a flood what caused the actual forming of the lake, which happened from some very old engineering disaster or some such. That's about all the detail he gives you.

• "If it helps,” Makin offers, “the tiger is already dead in our time."

• "This is no normal beast. It hunts people. Women and children. It seems to take a certain delight doing it." That from Bram.

• "So it's not so much abominating it as taming it.. kind of?" Xerx wasn't exactly sure she had that right but dammit she offered it just the same.

• The elf gives a frown to Makin a moment before continuing. "It hunts to protect its territory. Last beast we fought had pack... eggs."

• "...I tried to stop that last one." Clearly the elf had managed to hit an exposed nerve of sorts there. The Gnome looked openly guilty about that notion, and glanced to the container the eggs remained in.

• "It was evil and taking delight in our perceived demise." Makin mutters.

• "Tha beast also dinna back off when we tried ta leave it's territory."

• "Might'a been evil Makin but it was'n jes bein sadistic - it was tryin' ta keep it's eggs safe. Didn' believe me when I said we didn' want em." That from Xerx.

• As you discuss the eggs, there are some of you who remember the guardian elf you met who called them 'Spawn of Tiamat.'

• Evil, with the capital E vil. Seriously ... EVIL type evil."

• The elf's glare falters somewhat at the sudden tension in the group, and she holds up a hand. "Bad words from me. Not meant...." She shakes her head, "Tiger shouldn't be here. From North. Had make new territory..." she tries to explain.

• "Or is it tracking down easier prey, coming to the women and children where it has more of them to hunt?" Makin wonders.

• "Why dinna we go and look inta tha matter and see which is tha case?" Throm offers.

• "…Maybe if we bring it back alive..?” Xerx suggests, “Ya know, coax it into cooperatin? Let tha man study it like tha' instead?"

• "Predator hunt prey it can catch. Way of Nature." She says softly, trying to not sound as cold-hearted as her words sound. Looking to Xerx, "Animal threatened enough to leave territory, not easy for it trust being captured."

• "How does one go about bringing back a huge, angry red tiger alive?" Makin sounds skeptical.

• Xerx says, "Don' think this was ever gonna be easy. Might be easier ta get it -in- to the city alive though? Less scrutiny tha' way. Less need fer the lot of us ta try our hands at amateur smugglin'."

• Rycael ponders Throm's words a moment, "I may be able to talk to tiger..."

• The ideas are certainly meritous, and Bram's eyebrow raises at the mention of an attempted capture. "Ye might wanna git somethin' ye could crate 'im back in then," he suggests. An iron-caged wagon might be the best solution on that front, and horses that won't spook in the creature's presence. Bram suggests a human named Solim, a beastmaster who's tannery can be found on the southern outskirts of the city. "Tell ol' Solim, Thistleburrow sent you," he says. "He'll know what ye needs."

• Throm loks at Makin "Ye able ta hold beasts with yer magic?"

• "Uhm, possibly Throm, it depends upon the size of the beast."

• "Well.. hopin we can just talk it inta helpin' really. If it's not here naturally maybe the notion of regular food 'n safety'll be appealin to it? Or transport home after my fellow Gnome's done?" Xerx keeps a positive outlook in her suggestions.

• "Best chance is show... Respi- rispe.... Agh, what word?" Rycael frowns.

• "Look," Bram says to Xerx, (gnomish)"Truthbetol'thisthingsreallyinnawayformetegetsomewhereIneedstobegettin'. Itneedstobegonefromthere, andIcouldusesitscarcasstofurthermeworkhere. Ifyerelf'sallsoftoveritain'tnuttin'Icandomore'boutit. I'llbehereifyedecidestodosomethinboutit.

• Throm tries to figure out what Rycael is trying to sasy, "Restraint ye mean Lass?"

• "Close, I think?" She shrugs, looking to Throm, "Like you sayd, we should scout first, find reason for it be here..."

• She'd look back to him - to the place where he'd stowed the starmetal artifact, then the others. (Gnomish) "Notgoingtokillthethingjustbecauseit'sawayfromhome, empathizetoomuchwiththat. MightbeabletogetitoutofyourwaybutI'vehadenoughofleavingbodiesbehindifIcanavoidit."

• "Suit yerselves," Bram shrugs.

• "We are prisoners of a sort,” Makin says, “we need to request permission to leave as it is I would think."

• No such permission is necessary.

• "I wouldna say tha Makin,” Throm replies, “though we should let our..hosts know where we be heading and tha we intend ta return."

• Rycael thinks for a few moments, "Like I said, it not belong here. I not think about it at first, but predator in wrong place strains nature's balance here..." she frowns again, searching again for the right words...

• Xerx’d stand up, brushing off her clothing a bit. "Well let's go find tha damn thing 'n see what we can do."

• Throm is more then ready to get started and bids the shop keeper good day and makes his way out and back towards the carriage.

• Joxixal is waiting calmly. You see him come across the street to the carriage as you approach.

• Rycael gives the effigy one last frown before she follows the others out of the shop.

• "It is an homage, be sure," floats Bram's voice as the door closes behind her. The word "homage" is lost upon the she-elf.

• Something seems to catch Throm's eye for a moment and he raises a brow as he watches an elf walk away from their keeper of sorts and notes where they go as he approaches the carriage.

• Their Gnome is kind of oblivious to this. Simply heading for the carriage in deep thought.

• Ry's frown deepens as she leaves the shop.

• "Where to now?" Joxixal queries.

• Throm answers, "Back to tha Inn Good Elf if ye would?"

• "South of tha Lake of Reflection, right?” Xerx reviews, “Then we check into the beast, an the lake - see if the flood causin tha lake is what trapped it."

• Makin makes his way with the others toward Jox, "Everything okay with that priest?"

• "Being able to kill needs know of when not to kill. If tiger needs to be brought down, so be it. But I no want to hunt for just to kill, if we can do else." Rycael takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "But, I no mean to trouble my... friends. -I hope that right word-" she looks the others of the party, "I in good honor to hunt with you." Rycael finishes her little speech with a small smile.

• The little woman with the green knuckles waltzes up and puts a hand on Rycael's.. well, thigh. Cuz that's what she can reach. "Sounds right ta me. I agree. Let's go sort it out."

• The elf turns her smile to Xerx with a nod. "I no like what he do, but I no mean to be mean to... um... one of your pack... Or clan?" she tilts her head slightly.

• "To the Willowy, Inn, then," Joxixal nods, awaiting that you mount the carriage and then he is off. Bram mentioned the Beastmaster to the south of the city, too, for horses and other... gear.

• Makin shrugs and climbs on in, quite certain folks are what they seem. They are elves after all.

• By the time you get back to the inn, the sun is low in the sky. Traveling about Aelinthaldaar takes time, apparently, but the elves don't seem to mind. It would be perhaps best to settle in, have a nice meal, and prepare yourselves to leave with the dawn.

• Rycael as well didn't seem to mind the time spent, being an elf herself. She took the time to further admire the city of her ancient cousins during the ride.

• The Gnome had a more curious way of feeling about time - and also wondered how the heck she was supposed to think about it passing right now. It got them closer to home. Kind of. In a way. Did that mean it didn't count when they did get home? "..You think the time we spend here'll be time that passes when we get back? Like.. we're here a week, we were gone a week back there?"

• Ry looks back to the gnome, her head tilted in confusion. She was curious, but utterly lost with that concept...

• The Willowy Inn is lively as you arrive. Soft lights adorn the patio, the music in the air, which is in the air everywhere, is soothing and relaxing, even to the dwarf.

• The smell of food and sweetbreads waft into your noses. It is a welcome site as you dismount the wagon.

• The smell of food is welcome but the gnome's question makes Throm pause for a moment "I suppose...we willna know tha till we get back?"

• "We will depart tomorrow then, with the rising of the sun?" Makin queries.

• Ry can only offer a shrug, though she does offer Xerx a hand off the carriage if the gnome so desired, even holding the door for the group.

• The Gnome jumps actually. Landing just a bit heavily but seeming none the worse for wear for it. Then it's just enjoying the evening and getting to work when it passes…

• Rycael wakes from her reverie very early in the pre-dawn hours with a shout that may be loud enough to hear from adjacent rooms. After her initial outburst, she tries to keep herself quieter...

• The shout is more than enough to startle the Gnome out of rest. Limbs flailing about for a moment - just enough of one to send her rolling off the back side of the bed and into a heap on the floor. There's a muffled word in Gnomish after that. It sounds a lot like an expletive.

• The commotion jolts Throm out of his slumber as well and he rolls out of bed, whipping his new hammer out from underneath the pillow as he shakes off sleep and listens for more noise before stickingopening his door and looking about the hallway.

• "I would like to recommend we head south, do we have the cage available should we need it,” Makin suggests.

• There are no doors in the Willowy Inn, only beaded partitions between the entryways. They are thick, completely block snoopers, and make noise when they are cast aside, enough to alert those within or without.

• "We'll need ta rent a wagon and team ta pull it." Throm says as he stomps over to Ryceal's doorway and thumps on the frame "You alright in there?"

• Makin nods, "Anyone else experiencing odd ... dreams since we are here now?"

• "Nope." Throm replies

• "Wouldn' call it odd." Xerx answers. She'd amble clumsily out of her room, hair all askew and rubbing her eyes (which just one time resulted in a screeching metal on metal sound) "Jes frustrating."

• "How so?" Makin asks, as he checks over his armor one last time before they depart.

• A moment later, Ry pulls the curtain of beads aside, "I am... un-injured? Bad visions..." She looks over to Throm and Xerx, "I woke you? Sorry..."

• “Aye ye did, but if tha was all it was I'll be getting ready and meet ye downstairs folks,” Throm answers.

• Looking to Makin, "Swift river, but forest full of creatures of... um..." Rycael taps a hand lightly on Throm's armor to indicate the metal of it, "this, but color of leaves. Not natural."

• That got the Gnome tilting her head, tugging on Rycael's clothing to get her attention. At which point she held up her hand, specifically the back of it. "Like this?"

• For my own it was the head of a statue of Amanautor lying in tall grass. There was more, much more to the vision, but in the morning this is all I am able to remember."

• Rycael glances down, nodding to Xerx. "Yes, like that." She blinks, "You are... you, yes?" she queries the gnome with a sudden hint of caution.

• "Had this tha whole time, nay payin' too much attention were ya?" She'd end up smiling just a little. Clearly amused by the notion. "Don' worry, it'll get easier. S'spreadin slowly."

• For some it was not an entirely restful... rest, apparently. Morning comes all too soon but the city is alive around you. Wildlife, elves, airships all hum about you through the open recesses in the Willowy Inn. You break your fast there and perhaps order some longer-lasting provisions to take along with you. You have two options as Joxixal has agreed to take you to the edge of the city and will advise Shylyndryl of your departure. You can be dropped off at the eastern edge and walk to your destination, or saddle up from the south with Solim.

• The first pair of hours after dawn finds you at the edge of Aelinthaldaar, near the southern border and the coast. Joxixal drops you off and points further south. "You will find the beast men further along the coastline," he says to them.

• "That... safe?" Rycael eventually asks with genuine concern, "In my vision, saw strange beasts, animals... even elves with skin of that."

• "Sure!" The little thing shrugs, heading on ahead to reach the carriage with the others. "Well, I think.. pretty sure."

• "Beast men?" Makin asks of Joxixal, "What do you mean?"

• "Barbarians," he says with a small sneer.

• The Gnome finds herself disappointingly surprised that that answer is as unhelpful as it is. In that it is disappointing, and she was disappointed in herself for being surprised.

• Makin nods, “Ah. I understand. Those with beast totems."

• The explanation seemed to make perfect sense to Rycael, who felt at home in the wilds.

• "If that is all," Joxixal asks, seeming eager to return. You notice now the sound of the music has faded and the sounds of the surrounding environs seem loud and harsh to you. You can see the smoke from the fires of the 'beast men' as Joxixal calls them to the south. Some of you may even venture to guess how far out.

• "Farewell Joxixal,” Makin says.

• {Elven} "Thank you, cousin Joxixal," Rycael says.

• "May the Great Archer guide you," Joxixal returns cooly.

• Throm waves the driver off and turns to look south at the fires and does try to judge the distance.

• It's perhaps 2-3 hour's walk.

• Which would probably be a good incentive to get started on it promptly.

• Makin whistles cheerfully as they walk, one might even say it is a sunny little tune.
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Tue Jun 23, 2015 6:45 pm

Session 12

• Solim is not hard to find, what with the plume of black smoke that rises into the air to the south. On approach, you find a hunter's camp. The tall men stand at your approach. There are 4 of them. All of them wear wolf pelts and bear various hunt trophies upon their person. The plume of black smoke seems to emanate from some sort of tepee-like shelter. Perhaps they used it for smoking or curing meats. Jerked meats lie about across hemp lines on the western side of the camp, curing. Flies abound, and the smell of animal carcasses is strong. There are several wagons and nearly a dozen horses. This looks like a small outpost, and none of the shelters were permanent. Most of them were of the lean-to sort. There is a pile of bones, downwind, thankfully. One of the men returns to sorting them after they spot you. Another, shorter than the rest, moves to approach you. He meets you about 20 yards from the camp proper. "You come to the camp of Solim. Do you have business here? If not, leave us in peace and be on your way." To the point, at least. He holds a spear in one hand, and his face is almost completely painted black, except for 3 white lines on his right cheek. More like finger marks, from the looks of it.

• The Gnome isn't deterred by any of this. She waltzes up to them, smile on her face - maybe a gentle wrinkle to her nose. "Yea, we're lookin fer a cat. Sizable thing, new ta the place?" Following up with a more complete description shortly after

• "What?" Solim asks, his entire face scrunching. "What're you on about Little One?"

• "We were told there be a beast rampaging about tha usual is found further north." Throm says stepping up beside her "They say it's some large kind of cat."

• That round face of hers just smiled guilelessly back up at him. "Jes followin' up on wha Bram said ta try first fer findin the beastie."

• The elf keeps a slight distance back, letting her friends do the talking since they were better at it...

• "Bram?" Solim looks her over, then grunts. "Makes sense. You need gear. What kind?" This guy was all business. Odd, for his appearance seemed to suggest a more wild nature. Yet, the taller trio he traveled with looked much more conventionally their part. They moved to stand behind him at a distance, hands on their weapons. He waves them off. "It's Thistleburrow's lot," he says to them, whereby they seem to ease visibly and go about their business.

• “Well. Debatin how ta handle some of it.. some dissent on whether or not ta bring it back 'live, dead, or just escort it outta where it ought not ta be. If ya've got suggestions fer any of that?"

• "What?" he asks, frowning again. "What are you hunting?" It's apparent Bram didn't forward details to Mr. Solim.

• Seeing they could spend all day at this and not in the mood to do it the dwarf cuts to the chase "We be needing a wagon, a stout cage and a team of horses ta pull it." pausing he turns to look over at the elf "Best case ye can concinve it to come along, not best case we bring it back in the cage, worst case we be forced ta kill it to keep it from eatting one of us."

• "It is called a Red Tiger. Bram has requested we bring one in, alive preferably." Makin says.

• "Yes," he nods, "Melairkyn always to the point. How large are we talking?" he asks. "Red..." His eyes narrow a bit. He shakes his head. "Hope he's payin' well, little scubbard." Whatever that meant.

• The price is ... considerable." Makin replies. "Not necessarily in the way of coin, but .. it is a good bargain."

• Xerx says, "Aye.. not the sort you table up in coin in the first place."

• Soon enough, Solim and his men have a quite large cage and four horses to pull it set and mounted. He suggests a few snares, but his ultimate advice is this: "You need to dig a huge pit, mates, trap it there, deep, now, 'cuz their jumpers. And find a way to put it to sleep. Or put it to sleep outright. Getting it outta the pit will be troublesome. I've got a block and tack here that should do the trick. You don't return my gear, or my horses, it's coming outta yer arses if not yer purses, get it?"

• Rycael weighs the dwarf's words for a moment, then nods. Moving a few steps closer to the men, {elven accented common} "Tiger is from north. You have magic, so can speak to tiger spirits?"

• "Ain't no Red Tigers down here, elf," he shrugs. "Whatever the Little Man's got you chasin', it ain't that."

• "Sounds like a shit-ton a diggin'.. but if it's fer the best it's fer the best. E' said it'd be south a tha lake?" from Xerx.

• "News to me," Solim replies, a bit skeptical.

• "Well, les' go find out how it goes." The Gnome shrugs there - what else was there to do?

• One of you probably volunteers to drive the cage-cart, and the rest are welcome to find spots on the wagon or simply walk along, although the latter will slow your travel time.
A.J.
 
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Joined: Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:46 pm

Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Tue Jun 23, 2015 6:46 pm

Session 13

• Throm will drive the wagon after the get it loaded, may as well toss in a couple shovels along with the block and tackle, then be on their way.

• Despite their work, Solim mentions nothing of recompense. They include a bit of feed for the horses even, and watch you as you depart.

• As you depart, you hear one of the barbarians comment to Solim, "Those were good horses," and Solim's reply, "That's why the gnome will pay double." And you're on your way, working into the forests northeast of Aelinthaldaar. As you travel along the Southern Road, you see a few elves and other travelers, but there is considerably less traffic in and out of the area than what would have been expected in Waterdeep. The great Song Tree looms over everything, however, and shadows of airships above loom overhead. At this distance, one can see just how large some of them really are.

• Throm’ll wait till they're off aways before looking over his shoulder at the others "Anyone else tha bit , they're not figguring we're coming back and tha Gnome is paying them double?"

• Ry tilts her head slightly, "What you mean?"

• "Kinda got a feelin', aye." Xerx’d nod there, pat Throm on the shoulder too. "Jes have ta prove em wrong."

• "Heard tha fellows lads saying thy'd never see tha horses again." Throm replies.

• "Paying them double for?" Makin queries.

• The elf frowns, "They hunting 'us'?"

• Any glance back will find only Solim waving, and the others returned to the work at hand. The road winds along the southeastern edge of Aelinthaldaar, untill eventually, you come to a crossroads. There is a path both east and west, as well as a path to the north, which looks simply like a continuation of the path coming from the south you are already on. All indications say head north.

• "Likely tha Gnome had ta pay them extra ta take tha risk of losing all this gear." Throm suggests.

• "Les prove em wrong,” Xerx replies, “We handled tha dragon thingy.. we can handle some cat."

• “Ryc? You are our best guide, where should we be heading?" Makin asks.

• "North?" she shrugs, not having spotted tracks yet.

• North it is. The road is long and winding. From the beginning, you are moving over rolling coastal plains which, as the land rises, gives way to thick, overgrown forest. The road continues, however, into the woods.

• "Well.. need ta find that lake, right?" Xerx reminds them.

• From what you can remember of the landscape, that lake would have to be at least a day's hard march. You would arrive near dusk or just after. It might be within your best interests not to wander into this thing's hunting grounds in the dead of night.

• Looking at the light filtering through the trees, Rycael holds up a hand, "We should camp. Not good wander territory not ours when can't see."

• "..Well, fair point.. don' like spendin more time at it but bein impatient'll get us nowhere good," Xerx replies.

• "Lets set up then." Makin breaks out his tent and gets things set up. "Set watches, aye?"

• "Dusk." Rycael offers, leaning against a tree.

• "Kind of shite at watches but ah.. sure, if ya insist,” Xerx replies.

• Makin asks to take the dawn shift.

• Throm will take 3rd shift

• As you make camp for the night, detaching the horses from the cage, rubbing/brushing them down and feeding them, then settling in for yourselves. Is it a hot or cold camp?

• The weather is early spring, and, while crispy in the wee hours, is completely tolerable with a cold camp.

• "Do we want a fire?” Makin asks, “Fire, scare off most animals .. or attract those who are not animals?"

• "May draw our prey... It hunter too..." Rycael notes, idly carving a small piece of wood she'd picked up somewhere along the walk.

• "Er.. draw it to us, while we're restin - an it's gettin the drop on us - an only one of us is awake ta try an spot it?" Xerx wonders.

• Throm says, "Cold camp is fine with me for tha night, I can see better tha way."

• As you seem to majority on cold camp, the party settles in and Rycael takes first watch, circling the camp around the edges, here eyes seeking movement in the fading light.

• Makin has a cold bit of rations from the folds of his cloak, then goes off to slumber.

• A pair of hours passes in silence.

• Halfway through, the silence is broken by the dwarf's snoring...

• Rycael eventually goes over to wake the gnome.

• Which isn't too hard - Though she doesn't look as clear eyed as she could be.

• You okay?" Rycael asks the gnome as she rises from her tent.

• She'd nod - rub her eyes a bit - then start her shift

• Eventually when nothing of note happens she goes to wake Throm up.

• Dwarf gets poked by gnome. Dwarf wakes. A cold, quiet shift passes for him as he slowly walks the perimeter of the camp, till it's time to wake Makin with a nudge of his boot.

• Makin walks the perimeter of the camp, trying his best to keep alert. Time passes slowly, his thoughts turning to his god and to the future before him. Dawn breaks, finds him kneeling toward the east praying to the rising sun.

• The night passes without instance, and the light fog suggests the proximity of the lake in question. It might even be a good idea to proceed on foot from here, but there is a road, and the horses would have no trouble continuing in the manner you have traveled thus far.

• Ry would suggest going further by foot...

• Throm will suggest leaving the wagon and horses here and going on foot with the shovels to the lake to find a spot for digging the pit trap while the elf scouts for signs of the beast.

• Makin comments, "Aye, I do not think we can get the horses much closer. I pray our beasts will be safe here."

• The forest is thick, and the ground, uneven. The area rises and falls but seems to trend toward a general downslope, which seems to lead north. Makes sense that a lake would be somewhere ahead.
A.J.
 
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Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Tue Jun 23, 2015 6:47 pm

Session 14

• It takes a few hours to get the trap dug, but it gets done. Now, as the day wanes, you have a choice: Begin your search, or wait for the dawning of a new day.

• "Bait the trap and then take a look about, perhaps we can find it or get the trap to do its work?” Makin suggests.

• "Err.. if ya like? Heh. Not much of a tracker. Followin' yer lead here." That from Xerx.

• The terrain is thick with trees and has a gradual downslope. The entire area feels like it bowls up to your right and left.

• "Once we bait it we need ta find a spot upwind from it where we can hide and watch, then tiss a waiting game,” says Throm.

• "Prey come to lake to drink, so tiger likely close by there." Rycael notes.

• A valid point. Knowing where the wildlife comes to drink would likely give you an advantage in tracking a predator. Surveying the area around the lakeshore might not be a bad idea. Judging from the information you have, it's perhaps a half hour, perhaps a little more, to the lakeshore.

• "I am out of my element here,” Makin admits, “I will do whatever we need to make things work. Dig a second hole?"

• "Votin we wait fer it I think…” Xerx offers, “Jes guessin an all, but it's gotta show up yeh?"

• "Put bait too close to water, prey no come close to water."

• Makin ducks down, holding a finger to his lips and pointing toward the north.

• As Makin points, the attention he brings to an area to the North, you see movement amidts the brush there.

• Gnome is entirely oblivious. Though she looks around where Makin points she clearly has no goddamn idea what he's trying to point out. At least until something moves.

• Following Makin's lead, Ry ducks down as well, turning her gaze to the north as she silently knocks an arrow.

• ...Though ducking seems wise. She could at least not screw it up for the rest.

• Throm stops and ducks down as well, and see as little as the gnome has so far.

• As quietly has he can, Makin whispers, "Something moving in the brush there."

• You can't see too much from where you are , but you do see the coloring, a splotchy red/white/black thing moving about, keeping near solid objects, low to the ground pausing here and there to sniff the air and looking about. This is a cautious predator.

• All of you also realize that if *you* can see it...

• “Somebody want to draw it toward the trap?" Makin suggests.

• ...Well, something does occur to her. Xerxsephira finds some greenery to crouch behind, then shuts her eyes and concentrates. Evoking the sounds one might associate with a wounded small animal near the trap.

• A head suddenly appears above the brush. It's huge and feline, reddish tinted with white under the eyes and about the jowls. And what jowls, with a pair of long, pointed teeth protruding from its upper jaw, like no other great feline any of you have ever seen.

• For those of you hiding or otherwise, it both sees and hears your attempts not to be detected. The tiger moves southwest, looking at each of you in turn as it does, not seemingly concerned but at the same time glancing back toward Xerx's sound from time to time.

• The dwarf moves from his cover and heads over to put the trap between him and the tiger, ;east thats the idea.

• Having few better ideas, and not wanting to draw blood just yet, the elf follows Throm's lead...

• Makin moves, swinging around the other side of the trap as well.

• She wasn't a quiet creature. That just wasn't in the cards. But hell with it, Xerx can at least keep moving with them. She takes a moment to get her sword ready as well.

• The tiger crouches low as it moves toward them, dipping behind trees and brush.

• Makin is the only one who sees the tiger as it moves off, and only Throm hears it.

• Keeps moving based of the direction of the sounds of the critter

• Using her friends' movements as clues, she guesses the cat moved in the same direction. Thus, she moves the same direction as well...

• Makin moves again, keeping the cat with the trap between them.

• The Gnome has no damn idea where the cat is - so she stays put, keeps her sword ready, and chant a brief simple spell.

• The tiger continues to move and try to obscure itself doing so...

• Makin and Throm seem to have the beast's number, as they both see and hear him.

• Throm moves again around and closer to the trap.

• Ry continues her slow northward treck as she tries to follow the dwarf's gaze...

• Makin moves with the dwarf near the trap.

• The Gnome moves from one raised outcropping to another - and one incantation to another.

• For those of you who actually get a glimpse of this large predator, its upper body is massive, and its long upper fangs look like they could cleave a man in half with little difficulty. It moves with practiced confidence, circling around the group.

• Makin watches as it slowly approaches him, making a straight line but doing so cautiously as it smells the bait. It tilts its head at them as it moves directly toward the bait, seeing and smelling it readily. Whether or not it thinks it is moving to claim the prize, or respecting their positions as the bait were their kill, is uncertain, what is certain is that the trap is sprung!

• The trap coverings collapse, but the tiger manages to scramble out, whirling about and eyeing the party, it roars.

• So much for the trap so Throm moves between his companion and the cat and readies his hammer and shield and holds his attack for if it closes.

• Ry likewise readies her shot.

• Makin gestures, collecting light in his hand. "Lord, strike with the power of the sun against this creature." And Makin fires a bolt of sun into the dirt behind the tiger.

• Its nerves are like lightning, as it twitches away from the bright light cast in its direction!

• ...Well, that thing was a bit further away than she liked. The Gnome did at least manage to run to flank the beast though.

• The tiger doesn't hesitate once faced with a potential meal. It barrels into Throm, charging into the dwarf with its full ferocity! The giant tiger sinks its fangs and grips with its claws, holding the dwarf fast! Blood flows.

• Ry lets an arrow fly as soon as the tiger bears down on the dwarf, but it barely misses the tiger's ear. Muttering an elven prayer to her spirit animal, she lets another two arrows fly.

• The dwarf struggles to get free of the great cat's death grip… and fails

• Ry's two arrows fly towards the tiger. One sinks into it's foreleg, the the other sinks into the ground a little close to the dwarf.

• Makin growls, going with his standard prayer, "Lord of light, protect us, grant us your aid!"

• Well she couldn't let the thing just maul Throm... And the thrashing about of it results in the gnome whiffing.

• The tiger is focused on its prey, now with a firm hold of the dwarf, it not only attempts to chew his head off, but all four massive clawed paws come into play as it rakes the dwarf's armor! It rips and tears and continues to hold onto Throm...

• Somehow the dwarf manages to break free of the cat but stands his ground. He spits at it.

• Ry lets another two arrows soar! Again, only one of the arrows finds its mark, though it sinks a little deeper than the first.

• The tiger flinches at the 2nd arrow to find its mark, and roars at the pain.

• Makin brings a ball of fire to hand and lobs it to the right of the tiger as a burst of flame appears. The ball of flame bursts, the smell of burnt hair .. the tiger takes the full brunt of the flames.

• The tiger makes an unnatural sound as Makin's fire burns it, hopping straight up off the ground before landing with a snarl.

• That’s when Xerx lays into it… drawing blood with her stone fist and sword combo.

• Now feeling pain on all sides the tiger goes into a rage, it goes for the smell of blood and swarms Throm once more...

• The tiger grabs and sinks its claws into the dwarf yet again, but it seems almost mindlessly focused on it.

• Throm tries to break free from it again, and does! He moves back.

• Rinse and repeat, as it were, as two more arrows vie for the tiger's attention from the dwarf. One of them scores a critical hit!

• ...Well, Throm moved - the cat didn't. So the Gnome continues to beat on the thing.

• Makin's bolt plunges into the pit as he over compensates as he tries to avoid missing Throm.

• The Gnome managed to strike true this time. Two hands swung overhead and her sword bit deep into the cat's thigh, then the arm that had turned to stone disengaged from the hilt and slammed right on the open wound.

• Xerx's combat effectiveness is proving itself in spades here, as the cat looks visibly weakened by her attacks. Its fur is both scorched and red with blood. With a roar, and a snarl it whirls on the gnome and attempts to devour her!

• The tiger bears down on Xerx but somehow she shrugs off its attempts to grab her. She doesn't do it without letting a bit of blood, however...

• Seeing a chance to get some pay back Throm steps back up behind the cat and starts swinging the hammer at it.

• The dwarf's aim is true and he slams the hammer down solidly on the cat's side with a sickly thud.

• The tiger shudders and wobbles a bit, but is still standing....

• Two more arrows soar at her target. {Elven} "Stop chewing on my friends..." she mutters quietly.

• This time both arrows sink into the tiger's fur...

• Makin draws in the fire again, loosing it to the tiger's side.

• The fire bursts again, slamming into the tiger as it manages to dodge the greater part of the damage. Still, however, Makin's magic is enough to fell the creature, as its instinctual reactions keep it moving, it jerks and falls to a stop, stilled forever...

• The forest around you is eerily silent.

• The Gnome just.. stares at it. Clearly visibly disappointed by the end result. Though she ends up looking to the wounded dwarf first and foremost - she does mutter something in the process. "The hell is it we make plans 'n try ta talk nice an still everythin ends up dead? Damn elf city's gonna go the same way, jes watch."

• Throm is pretty torn up, not as bad as the last fight but still pretty bad, though he's still able to spit on the thing.

• Makin places a hand on Throm's shoulder granting him vigor.

• Ry walks over from her perch next to the tree, moving around her friends and the pit. She kneels next to the tiger's head, running a hand softly over it. {elven} "Sleep well, great hunter." After that, she looks at her friends {elven accented common} "You two alright?"

• "I can keep the tiger fresh,” Makin offers.

• Xerx exhales slowly. Eyeballing the tiger, then Rycael. "Err.. sorry there. Wanted tha' ta go different. Seems ta be a runnin' theme fer us."

• "Do I look alright ta ye?" Throm mutters sourly as he takes stock of the mauling he's taken from this over sized cat.

• And Makin uses a second one upon Throm.

• The elf frowns at Makin's words, but simply nods to the gnome, "I not want to, but I knew we would fell it if had to." Turning her gaze, to the dwarf, "You are alive." she states simply, moving her hand from the tiger and standing.

• "Well lets get this thing back to tha wagon and get going back shall we?" Throm says.

• The Gnome is already starting to haul it off at that point. While her arm remains coated in stone she's surprisingly unburdened by the giant mass of mighty hunter.

• It takes time, but eventually you find a way to manage the bloody, singed carcass into the caged wagon, once its retrieved. The horses are skittish even though the thing is quite dead.

• Makin meanwhile uses the gentle repose upon the tiger to keep it fresh for 6 days.

• Rycael frowns, "We still taking body to the gnome?" the elf questions, unease thick in her voice.

• The going is slow and despite how easily Xerx made towing the tiger seem, it's still a thousand pounds the horses didn't have to haul on the way up...

• Xerx took a bit of time while they were on their way to use a bit more of that weak chaotic Gnomish magic at her beck and call. Primarily aimed toward cleaning the corpse - and the rest of them - up a bit.

• You will need to make camp at some point, seeing as how you managed to cage the thing before sunset...

• "It will be a long haul, with a source of blood trailing along with us." Makin notes.

• Ry had eased her arrows out of the corpse, broken or not. However, the look of unease upon her face seemed to grow the closer they got to the city.

• "Shouldn't bleed too much from those arrows, yer being paranoid Lad." Throm remarks.

• More that it smells like bbq'd tiger... Break for camp or push through the night? The latter will find you at the borders of Aelinthaldaar sometime around 2am.

• "Question is are we paranoid enough?" Makin counters. "Will the horses be able to go on through the night?"

• ...Well if nothing else Xerx's spell cleans up a lot of the blood, as best she can anyway. Beyond that she stays relatively quiet for the moment.

• Rycael tilts her head at the word 'paranoid' but answers anyway. "I help fell tiger because it need done. My arrows not used to help gnome make some abomination of nature." After she says that, she gives an apologetic glance to Xerx, not having meant to accidentally offend her.

• The sun sets as you move onward, finding the road so there is little chance a horse comes up lame walking in the dark...

• "Makin is right." She adds, "Blood trail behind us. May want to rest and be prepare for other predators..."

• "Then lets set a camp and then get moving at dawn."

• You unpack the horses and leave the cage off in the distance, as though Makin's magic keeps the carcass from stinking up the area, the dead thing unnerves the elf a bit. Maybe the gnome, too. After you sup you'll obviously select your watch order.

• Makin will request the last of the shifts again.

• Ry offers to take the dusk shift, as her thoughts would keep her awake for a while at any rate.

• Xerx notes blood has since dried. It's still going to smell just because of the dried blood, but it's not leaking gore or anything really anymore.

• Before Xerx goes to sleep, the elf walks over to her on her way to patrol. "You like to talk a moment?"

• Xerx’d tilt her head a bit, then shrug and nod. "Enh, sure. What's on yer mind?"

• "Was wondering of yours. You are troubled." Rycael states simply, taking a position where she can watch the outskirts of the camp.

• Throm snores.

• The tiger paints a vivid picture in its cage, still as it is. There is hadrdly a sign that the creature was injured, save for the scorched fur in the parts where Makin's magic struck it.

• "Lost of stuff endin' up dead behind us, whether we intended it or not." She'd rub the back of her neck idly there - which at one point resulted in an odd metallic scraping sound. Xerx didn't react to that. "Don' like it is all.

• A soft breeze blows through the trees. The road, nearby, is quiet.

• "I not my clan's shaman or chief... no good with words." she chuckles soflty, "No very good at all-clan tongue of Comman. But I know how troubling can be when hunt not go as plan. You still do what need done, as I have." She places a hand softly on the gnome's shoulder, "That it troubles you speaks well. You have good heart."

• Makin sleeps quietly, warm cloak about him.

• Xerx’d exhale slowly, then look up. The smile was tired but it was there. "Aye. Arright, I'll stop frettin quite so much. Still gonna try to find some kinda happy endin' fer those eggs though if there's one ta find. Maybe that'll make up fer some."

• "Maybe. Rest good, friend." the elf smiles back, seeming happy that she brought ease to the gnome's heart. She stands and begins her patrol with no less vigilance than she had during the brief conversation.

• Rest indeed. Xerx’d find someplace where hopefully no moonlight reflected off her hands to draw things in.

• When the time comes, Throm takes watch as the temperature begins to dip. It is a crisp, cool night and the stars above make a milky blanket through the treetops overhead.

• Throm gets armored up and takes up his guard shift watching over the camp as he patrols around the perimeter.

• Ry takes the chance of the dwarf being awake to take her reverie.

• Perhaps an hour passes, and Throm spots something in the distance. "Lovely...more mangy mutts." He mutters to himself as he goes over and taps the elf's leg with his foot "get up we got company." and then moves on to rouse the others quietly.

• Ry wakes instantly, a hand tightening on her bow as the other reaches for her quiver as she stands.

• Makin sits up, yawning a bit. "What?"
A.J.
 
Posts: 245
Joined: Tue Aug 27, 2013 8:46 pm

Re: Best Laid Plans, Part 1: The Long Road IC Thread

Postby A.J. » Thu Aug 06, 2015 3:25 pm

Session 15

• "Got four footed comapny, git up less ye want ta end up a chew toy?" Throm warns.

• The party is woken by the dwarf, who notifies them all of what looks to be some sort of canine activity in the forest beyond. Rycael notes to you all that she distinctly heard voices, not those of a dog or wolf, but of men, the common tongue, as it were.

• "What lingo were the voices usin'?" The Gnome had her sword ready by now at least. Sticking by Throm and hopefully between trouble and the scholarly sorts.

• "Lingo is like men," Rycael replies simply, as if that was all the answer needed. She was, after all, not quite the master of the common tongue herself.

• Makin yawns and stretches. "Light of the sun does not yet rise and folks are about? Nothing good ever happens after midnight, ever."

• "But nah like elves or dwarves?" That seemed to be Xerx’s point.

• Makin rises, adjusting his armor as he does so. "Do we want light or wait on this?"

• In a low voice Throm says to the others "Secure tha wagon and tha animals first, then see what these louts are about?"

• "I heard the tongue of men," Rycael shrugs, "Elves not speak like men when not among them..." That's about all she could provide at this point.

• The horses don't seem to notice anything in particular, or at least they aren't skittish over it. Then again, it was the middle of the night, and most of them were asleep standing.

• "Aye - les do that Throm." Which meant Xerx’d get to helping - much as she can.

• Makin slips on his cloak and starts making his way toward the horses.

• Hammer and shield at the ready the dwarf seems rather annoyed to have anyone skulking about at this hour "Could be someone looking ta poach our kill and get paid by our friend back in tha city?"

• The horses awaken as you approach them to make sure they're secure. One of them seems to perk up a bit, but doesn't seem alarmed.

• "Someone in trouble...Needs help. Hunted by two others, up hill." Rycael offers in relay of her hearing, then makes her way into the forest, bow drawn.

• Throm shakes his head a bit "Something..odd bout tha cry fer help though, canna put me finger on it."

• "Two big wolves, one smaller.." Xerx’d point north east. Which may or may not be the same direction as the cry for help.

• "Didn't we start all this off with big wolves?"

• Then you all hear it, "Help me!" from the area of the closest canine-like creature, which isn't moving. The two further north closing in.

• "Buggers are trying ta lure some of us out." Throm remarks.

• "That's feckin' creepy." Xerx adds.

• Makin raises his hand to the sky, "Bless my people with the speed of your light."

• Realizing she delayed too long to have a decent chance at stealth, she bravely (or foolishly, considering her general luck with meele encounters) steps closer, "Hold! Why you hunt one of own tribe?" she calls out, bow at ready but not yet aimed.

• All three heads go up, and she is met with, "Own tribe!" And an eery laugh...

• Throm moves towards the elf "Get back here."

• As Rycael approaches, the lead creature dashes toward her. What you see is an ugly mix of a stag's body and legs, a lion's tail and a wedge shapped head much like a giant badger's. The creature is nearly 9 feet tall and emits a noxious stench and its oily skin appears and smells, rancid. It does not actually have teeth, but rather a jagged bony ridge as strong as adamantine, which it attempts to chomp Rycael with as it charges her! The other pair circle off into the trees...

• The Gnome and her sword do two things - they conjure up a transparent shield of force in front of her and then they dart off alarmingly quickly to take up a position right behind that wolf.. thing.. that's menacing Rycael. Lastly upon arriving she makes a quick pass over her throat and mutters something. (Shield. Move. Activate amulet for temp hp. Done.)

• "This one hasn't had gnome in a week!" the creature snarls at Xerx. "So tender and tasty!!" It laughs a shrieking kind of laugh. The badger-like head and the ridge of bone in its mouth make a chattering sound once the laugh subsides. It is truly intent and eager to devour you... all of you! Laughs abound from the other pair as they circle out...

• Makin hoists his crossbow and fires off the bolt toward it.

• As the bolt misses its mark, it's Rycael's turn, faced with this gruesome creature, what looks like an aberration of nature but is obviously a cunning, intelligent thing...

• Ry gives an eloquent curse in Elven, backing off before this... thing... can take her face off....

• "Run run run!" the creature yelps...

• Thinking he could definitely get used to this haste buff, Throm quickly follows up after his gnomish pal and attacks the creature that tried to bite the Elf's Fool head. He tries to get its attention via bashing his weapon into the side of the mangy thing with a solid thud.

• As Throm slams into the ...whatever it is... it squeals in pain and emits a high pitched cry. It lashes out at the dwarf meanwhile the other two converge equally on Xerx, charging in on both sides!

• The stink of the creatures is almost overwhelming as they bite and snap at the dwarf and the gnome, but Xerx seems to come out of it for the better...

• Not so much the dwarf but he's had far worse then this.

• The Gnome mutters something quiet over her pendant when a savage raking of the beast's not-quite-teeth had left a nowhere near deep enough scratch on her arm. She then promptly began laying into the first not-wolf. The one Throm had struck.

• One of the sword slashes goes wide - she's not used to the extra velocity yet - but the other one bites into the creature's flank and is quickly followed up by her curiously dense bone structure and a balled fist.

• Makin moves north, collecting a ball of fire in his hand. He flings the fiery burst between the two beasts.

• The burst singes the hair of one creature, causing it to hiss at Makin and say, "You pays and I eats, hooman!"

• Ry lets arrows fly at the creature that took advantage of her aid, still cursing them in colorful elven...

• Makin manages to put the burst of flame between two creatures. Scorching of one is obviously more burnt than the second.

• Apparently, 'Revenge is best served... via arrows!', as her three shots downed the one closest to her dwarven friend.

• The beast falls heavily before the dwarf. The other two appear quite surprised at this and look to bolt at any moment. Cunning, indeed.

• As that first one drops Throm just steps around its body to the next one in front of him and takes a swing at it "Dunna what ye are but I bet yer hides sell." The hammer smacks into the new target with a satisfying thud.

• Well, if they sell, it's for their stink! It's like hacking up a skunk, and will probably stick on your blades for quite some time... Or hammers, for that matter...

• The pair of beasts try to take a bite out of you before dashing off...

• The cowardly, stinky things dash off into the night... You'd have a hard time catching them, even hasted...

• "Where ys think yer going?" and strikes at the beast as it tries to run.

• Throm smacks the things backside and it limps off, clearly injured but still running at full speed...

• That haste spell wasn't done with them yet - they might be starting to leave but they were close enough for one last charge. Which the Gnome was happy to oblige with. That charge did connect - a blade stuck into the retreating thigh - but still that speed throws her off and it's pretty shallow.

• The creature yelps and skips as the gnome surprisingly catches up to it...

• Makin checks, noting they are fleeing, moves to check the horses again.

• Her anger nowhere near finished, Rycael sends another three arrows at the fleeing beasts.

• Turning tail did wonders for their luck from Ry's anger, but one of the arrows sinks deeply into the flank of the one on the left. It yelps and hops again but is still trying to make good its escape!

• Not ready to let them off the hook either he charges along after Xerx for another swat at the trailing bugger. He hits the damned thing but sadly not fatally.

• The creatures continue their attempt to escape, but one of them will have to be quite lucky to do so, and the other seems like it will get away unharmed as it breaks into a full sprint...

• Xersephira's eager swipe goes wide, but Throm still has a chance...

• Seeing it about to bolt again Throm actually jumps at it and lands the business end of the hammer alongside of its ugly head, caving it in with a sickening, crushing of bones dropping it lifelessly to the ground.

• And down goes the second of the three staunchly stinky beasts, the sole survivor high-tailing it into the night... Makin's magic wanes eventually and you cannot catch up to it.... this time.

• Cries of "Help me!" ring out in the night, albeit with a completely different ring to them...

• "Damn these critters stink." Throm states sourly as he kicks the corpse a time or two "What tha hell were those?"

• "Well, that was fun. Nothing like giant dire ... skunks?"

• The elf eyes the beast retreating into the forest, then spins and nearly punches the tree next to her... only to stop just before impact and place her palm on the bark, along with her forehead with a soft sigh.

• Her nose curled, a lot. That smell was ever so much worse to a Gnome. "Real freakin' unpleasant. Still, think we should take em back too?"

• "Nope twas just trying ta twist their tales a bit with tha." Throm says.

• "Leucrotta." Ry says softly, "Even shamans who worship nature for wrong reasons despise them. Abominations not of nature."

• Once the beasts are felled and you decide what to do with them, the remainder of the night goes without incident. The dawn is welcome as it brings light to the sky and the surrounding environs, and signs of life that had left with the leucrottas' appearance in the darkness return with the dawn...

• From there, you can load up the wagon and make for the outskirts of Aelinthaldaar, which you should reach by early afternoon, if there are no further interruptions.

• Ry has been quiet since the fight last night, her mistake seemingly hitting her rather hard.
A.J.
 
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