[3.5] The Refounding [IC]

[moritheil]

Goblins, unified by the cunning Grashak into a single horde, pressed the human and elven nations for a land of their own. Months of battle have taken their toll on the surrounding countryside. The Demon Lord Derwydden attempted to seize this opportunity, bargaining with the goblins to open a portal and catch the good armies unawares between them, but an avatar of a greater power took offense at this interference in the war and smashed the plan.

With the goblins in disarray after this failed gambit, there is now a lull in the war. Many warriors gathered by the fighting have decided to take up new causes. One such group has determined that the legendary home of learning for swordsages, warblades, and crusaders, should be re-founded. Their first task is to find the remnants of the old temple where Reshar, the legendary Master of Nine, once lived and taught.

The world of Mori is hazardous. Grashak still dreams of empire. Demons still occasionally appear, survivors of the portal. Bandits, undead, and elementals are said to roam the countryside. Against these, our heroes have their wits, their blades, and a newfound purpose - rebuild the Temple of Nine Swords.

[Dice rolls and in-character actions in this thread. Use spoiler blocks and mark them as DM only, DM and other person, mechanical explanation, etc. Questions, comments, suggestions? OOC thread is here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=13310085). Character list is here (http://moriwiki.wikispaces.com/The+Refounding).]

[moritheil]

It is early morning in Ferdham, and mists still cling to the ramshackle streets. With its details obscured, the city almost looks like it has proper defensive structures, but the soldiers who have worked and fought here for months – some for years – know that the outer wall is made of at least 27 separate instances of conjured stone and iron, with wooden walkways hastily lashed together and rammed into place. The inner wall and inner city are no better. Hundreds of patch jobs – on the walls, on the roads, on the buildings themselves – give the place an appearance not unlike that of a crazy quilt. Ferdham is a bustling new city, but here in the hours of the morning, without the movement of troops and the sound of hawkers from all over Mori offering their wares, it is possible to see how fragile it is.

At the Feathered Coque Inn, the rooms are spare but clean. A few soldiers gather around a table in a private room, discussing their intentions.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey



Ferdham. After days of travel through lands still recovering from war, Cerran found himself at his destination. Mists swirled around his feet as he walked through the streets.


Two steps left. Guard right, incoming sweep. Balance impeccable, likelihood of forcing a misstep low.

Getting through the gate had posed less of an issue than Cerran had anticipated; the wall was reasonably well staffed with armed guards, given the hour, but fortunately one of the halberdmen had recognised Cerran from one of his mission briefings during the Second Battle. Cerran didn't recognise the man - Albert, apparently. He hoped it wasn't his last stroke of luck this evening.


Sweep blocked. Testing weight? Must be trying to force overbalanced swings. Blows misleading - alternating light and heavy, seemingly unfocused but impeccable connection. Feint and *thrust*

Turning into the small square, he found his goal. The Feathered Coque. Although the sun was only threatening to rise, light streamed out several of the decoratively shuttered windows of the inn. So here the roads cross and the swords meet.


Advance now. Weakness in dealing with rapid strikes. Seeks to turn overwhelming blows. Keep footing, keep pressure. Build momentum, break defense, find gap, exploit gap. Build momentum, break defense, find gap, exploit gap.

Cerran entered the inn, drawing few gazes and fewer comments. He allows his mind to pass over the inn's occupants, scanning for non-humanoids. A red-haired bard sits across the common room, tuning an instrument between songs. It would be a private room, yes, where this meeting would occur. Away from prying ears. Yes, there.


The gap! The final strik.. no, what? Slipped away, behind, low. Gripped. Thrown. The ceiling, above. A knife, throat. A whisper, close. "You fought well, visitor. Yield."

Picking up a glass of the house wine, Cerran entered the private room at the back, without asking, and extracted a book from his bag. He picked a chair in the corner of the room, brightly lit with candles, and pulled over a small side table to set his wine upon. Thumbing the pages, he reflected.


Defeated, without effort. A voice, ringing clear. "Elya, Seventh Circle Master of the Setting Sun, victor". Colours and martial symbols adorned the dojo wall. Here is where the best trained. Dragon's, Tiger's, Raven's Land. Sun, Spirit, and Desert Sand. Heart, Mind and Shadow Hand.

The war is over. Perhaps now is the time. He had heard about like-minded warriors, proven in fire and steel. He had heard about plans to meet, here, tonight. About plans to find what had been lost, the place where warriors had once found themselves.


The Temple of Nine Swords




Moritheil:

Knowledge checks about Feldham:
Knowledge(history): [roll0]
Knowledge(geography):[roll1]
Knowledge(local):[roll2]

Cerran will stay here, with the door to the room open. He'll poke through his book, only half reading it, sipping his wine, while continuously keeping an "eye" on the inn using Mindsight. Particularly, he will be most interesting in non-humanoids or high-Intelligence people approaching.

[Beowulf DW]

Conner strode through the streets of Ferdham quietly, nervously, and much too quickly to denote any level calmness. Human cities were so hectic, so disorganized, so...human. But you are a human says a little voice. Was that Conner's mind, or his heart? His mind, certainly. Diamond Mind was taught to him by the humans. The hobgoblins had given him Ironheart.

Conner turned a corner toward where he hoped the Feather Coque would be. He'd heard that there were people looking for swords there. No, not looking for swords. Looking for the swords. Were those the swords he'd been told to find? Couldn't hurt to find out.

At last, the Feather Coque was in sight. Conner made a beeline for it and walked right in. Taking a seat, he decided to sit back and let fate do some work for a change. Either the people he was looking for were here, or they weren't.

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

The bird alerted the man, with a movement of its feathered head it looked to the door when people entered. At first it just observed the man as he went into the common room. It was a grey grey man, alien to colour. The eyes of the familiar closed for a second observing the shiny silver in the stranger and moved on the shoulders of Aer. The bird was curious looking at him with undiluted interest, silver was shiny, and its bird eyes remained on the man till he entered a private room. The bird moved again pushing its beak against the skin of its owner.

Aer shocked his head before going back to his breakfast. Trying to gulp down the hard bread crisps with the help of some watered milk. He could, and in fact had, survive in rations alone for weeks or months in the wild, but having some other food to taste was always nice, after all rations end tasting like wagon's dust after a few weeks. After finishing his milk he crushed one last bread crumb and offered it to the raven, who started biting it greedily. While the bird fed the bard examined the room, it was still clean, only a couple of beer stains on the floor memento of the last night. It had been a passable night, he had listened to some uneventful conversations, danced to his heart content and even had a couple of fencing duels with some soldiers.

The Feathered Coque was just another Inn, Ferdham was just another city. It was just close to a fight, to a good fight, a fight that would let him hone his skills with the blade a little further, a little closer to perfection. In the meantime being close to the soldiers provided a good source of information and some occasional training to keep the basics going. And the best thing of it, it was cheap, the city was on its edge, and its soldier appreciated any kind of entertainment that they could get, a bard dancer and sword fencer was something new and enjoyable. I was not the only one there though, another man, a red haired northerner by the name of Skald played the balalaika and sang strong drinking songs between shoots.

When the second man entered the inn the bird croaked and looked at him. His eyes were looking for shiny stuff with curious innocence and his armor was really shiny. Once the new man sit down the raven opened its wings and jumped down from the shoulder that he was perked. He took a tiny leather bag with its beak and flew towards the stranger. It landed on its table and moved its head to look at him closely. Another light croak was all the bird did before it started... dancing, the raven moved over its small bird claws jumping from one to the other and spinning around.

After a few tumbles and cabrioles it lowered its head in a mute salute before graving the empty leather bag and showing it to the man.

Moritheil and Beowulf DW

The raven familiar is dancing in front of Conner [roll0]

[Lexin]

Annabel Zarathi

The conflict subsided. Annabel walks around the city looking for the place where she was supposed to meet others.

Many strong warriors died in this war. Many were given a good, befitting death and many died because of treachery. Here, hiding behind pathetic defenses live pathetic remnants of a great army. Women, children, elderly and cowards. So few remained of those worth any respect... a shame.

She finally finds the tavern. She stops for a moment...

At least the ones I will meet here should be worthy. I hope they won't disappoint me.

...and enters.
She looks around and notices a young man with gray hair.

Private room, was it?

She walks to the meeting place, noticing grey-haired young man and other, red haired with a raven on his shoulder. Her face show neither emotion nor recognition, but she gives both of them a slightest nod, like just to acknowledge their presence.

Others are here already

She orders water, eyeing the barman with her icy-blue eyes and takes a sit waiting for others to assemble.

[moritheil]

Ithandor: The pedestrian traffic is sparse at this hour. The guards of the watch are not particularly intelligent, with one exception. A highly intelligent (18-20 int) aberration briefly walks past the inn.

Ithandor and Aer:

Ferdham was originally a farming village with a reliable source of clear water. This was the primary impetus that kept it alive; no major trade roads or intersections stood nearby. All that changed with the war, and with the decision that this was an important strategic point.

Forests stand to the east and north, and a swamp to the southwest. Past the swamp, there is a great lake. It is unclear whose lands those are; if unclaimed, they probably belong to the Duke himself, as sovereign ruler of Antric.

Ithandor:

There is an ancient clan of dwarves in the Black Hills to the west. Ceren remembers they are very quiet and mostly keep to themselves. You don't imagine they would take kindly to an army of the undead, but you haven't heard of any battles between dwarven forces and undead. Come to think of it, the city as a whole is pretty quiet on the subject of those dwarves.

[Beowulf DW]

Conner stares at the raven, then smiles when the raven shows him the leather bag.

"I take that you want something, my friend, but what do ravens dance for? Coin or corn?"

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

When the raven hears the words from Conner it tilts its head from one side to the other with a dubious expression.

-Corn, coin, corn, coin.- It caws the words, in its beak they almost sound the same, jumps from one leg to the other excited before graving once again the leather bag and moving it around.

Far away in the other table the raven master smiles slightly, the bird doesn't distinguish between food and shiny it loves both things equally. While he smiles he allows himself a glimpse to the female that entered the tavern a moment ago. It moved as a veteran fighter but graceful as a wild cat, it probably is an elf... She seemed to look for other people, so Aer let her be for now. He just moves his hand slightly towards his sword that rests against the table hold in its scabbard.

After a moment of considering it he takes the weapon and walks toward the little bird that dances in front of the armored stranger. He extends his hand and pets the animal, that is still repeating its dance. When the master touches its head the bird freezes and looks at Aer and flies, perking on its shoulder.

-Rev here will gladly take any corn you can spare, or if you can spare some coin he will trade it for corn. Won't you Rev?

With the last sentence Aer looks at the familiar in the eye, slightly scorning him till the bird nods.

[Beowulf DW]

Conner chuckles lightly, Haha, well, I'm afraid I don't have corn at the moment, but here's a couple of gold coins." Conner drops the gold into the leather pouch, then looks to the raven's owner.

"That's no ordinary raven. Something tells me the owner isn't so ordinary, either."

[appending_doom]

The woman that enters the Feathered Coque is disheveled, a little weary, and dressed in simple clothes, but there is the air of a more violent past about her. The maul, massive, slung over her back. The scars on her forearms, visible around light sleeves. The symbol of Wee Jas, no stranger to conflict, prominent on her breast.

She nods to the barman, familiar, before retreating briefly from the common room. When she appears a few minutes later, she is cleaner, in a new shirt, and watches her surroundings with a keener eye. She purchases a drink before drifting to the side of the small group.

Clean and close, she is now far more visible. Radiant red hair frames a serious, angular face that holds faint resemblance to popular depictions of her goddess. She watches the world through piercing blue eyes, and seems cool, although not unfriendly.

"Tell me, what is the purpose of this little gathering?" she inquires in a rough alto voice.

[Oh My God]

" Adventure, of course," says the man entering the private room from the backdoor, clearly returning from some sort of excursion to the privy. He is dressed in silks of an outlandish style, puffs of fabric bunched up at his shoulders and wrists. A weary looking peasant hurries in to the room after him, looking dazed and grubby. The first man continues, gesturing expansively with one hand as he says," If you are after -specifics- then I suppose you could say that we are, metaphorically, going to locate, explore, and God willing restore the Rightwise Temple of Nine Blades, what what."

" I think, that is," he says after a moments hesitation," unless I have the wrong shadowy back room. You sir, you are Cerran the Grey, are you not? And you, miss, are Oro de Wee? The famed knightress? I'm betting I'm in the correct room. Unless this is the damned oddest game of clabberwhats I've ever seen sat, eh what Squire Beans?".

After a moment of the eccentric purple haired fop clearing his throat, the exhausted looking peasant widens his eyes and says in a rough voice," Ah, er, ladies 'n germs, presenting der Imperious Grace, der notion'l king 'o Fehghawawa, Duke Clarence Wilberforce Wallenstein, Third Vissycount 'o Penistone, an' Defender 'or der Reasonably Well Off."

After the peasant finishes this, the fop smiles widely at the assembled. " Please, call me Imperious. Seems to flow better than the full thing when you folk say it. Now, then. I think we're almost all here?"

[Beowulf DW]

Conner sits up at the sound of some very outlandish speech.

"Well, Raven Master, I think there's something going on that room over there. Something I mean to be a part of."

Conner excuses himself with a slight bow and walks over to the source of the foppish speech.

[appending_doom]

"Knight," Oro corrects sternly. At Imperious' declaration of his belief of this gathering's purpose, though, she watches those around her with slightly more focus - it is almost certainly interest, knowing that they intend to resurrect a lost temple. "If this is a gathering of those seeking to rebuild the Temple of Nine Swords, I would stay. The Favored Scholar Kossa d'Wee commanded me to seek such a quest." She does not elaborate, but drifts closer to the group.

[meemaas]

Ran

The young Changeling stepped into the room. Today he had chosen to have brown hair, and brown eyes. He was little under six foot tall, with a spear strapped to his back that was larger than he was. He looked at the various familiar faces, each one a warrior he had fought in the past. None of them would recognize him, of course, for he had used a different name, and a different face when he had fought each of them. Of all those he was among, he knew he was the only one who had not made a name for himself, and for some reason, he was proud of that. "I believe i would be the last. If i held you up, i'd like to apologize, but really, i probably wouldn't mean it." Ran smiled, his smile only halfway sincere, he'd move over towards a wall near the table and lean, feeling his insides twisting a little while he did.

[Oh My God]

" Knight! Knight! Indeed! How precarious of me!", chimes Imperious in agreement. He grins like a maniac at Ran and Conner as they step in to the back room, and upon Ran's sincere insincerity he insists," Not at all, old sport, not at all. What's a little bit of tardiness among comrades in arms? Though.. should make sure there isn't anyone else waiting out in the wings."

With that, Imperious walks the several steps to the door to the tap-room, sticks his head out, and announces in a sanguine tone," Anyone else out here for the secret meeting about the quest? Anyone? Anyone? No?" And with that he turns on his heel, returns to one of the tables in the room and plunks himself down in the chair, luxuriating in its cushions. He starts patting himself down, clearly looking for something, and then after a moment very obviously forgets that he was doing so.

" Right then! Squire Beans, if you'll please go wait in the tap room, I believe we all have rather a lot of hush hush to discuss, I daresay, there's a good chappy." The peasant (the presumed Squire Beans) seems only too glad to be getting as far away as he can from the self-proclaimed Imperious, and out into the common room he goes. Once he's absent, and once those out in the tap room what have decided to come in do so, he suggests in his oddly accented voice," I know most of you by reputation, as you no doubt have heard of me, but I think it would be most conductive to our process, speed the wheel if you will, if we all went about and introduced ourselves. Maybe gave a little bit of a spiel on what they're able to bring to the Band of the Nine Blades, any thoughts they have about the enterprise on which we're about to undertake, that sort of thing."

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

Rev, the raven familiar took flight with the purse and went to the barman. After a few caws and bites it got himself a full bag of corn, almost heavier that it could lift with its beak. It rested there eating peacefully happy that he could enjoy such a great breakfast.

-If you feed him he is going to keep following you for days, doing his little bird dance. He loves corn and shiny things, so you are his favourite person right now. He might be a bit annoying when he is hungry but the rest of the time he is a great company to have around.

Aer was talking like a proud father of his familiar, it had been a long relationship, since he had made a pact to keep the small raven safe feed and sound in exchange for the bird's aid in his quest to knowledge.

-If there is something going on there let's go and see.

The Raven Master gets off the table and moves towards the meeting his step are really soft, almost like he can't hold the urges to dance. Aer poses himself against one of the walls of the room with his sword close and his ears open. Once Rev finishes gorging himself on its breakfast it flies toward the knighty woman and stands on her shoulder.

-Knight, Knight, Knight.

Aer throws a cold glare to the raven that shuts up and flights back to its master remaining quite while observing closely the people gathered there, wondering who has more shinies.

Moritheil
Aer is keeping an eye on the outside door and making regular listen checks for anything out of place

[appending_doom]

The knight steps forward at the invitation and gives the group an assessing glance; her lips twist to indicate she is not entirely pleased. "I am Oro d'Wee, the Ruby Knight and faithful servant of the Ruby Sorceress. I am called on my quest as a pilgrimage. My faith is my weapon, and the balm to soothe my comrades' wounds. Every strike I make brings comfort to my allies."

[Lexin]

Annabel hears the notion about the secret meeting... like everyone else in this tavern. She focuses on the purple-haired man who called himself Imperious. For the first time people surrounding her could see some slight emotion on her face, surprise.
...maybe it is another secret meeting... She thinks with hope but then others started to gather.

With a mental sight she stands up and goes to the private room. After she enters, she looks others in the eyes, one at the time, trying to judge if they are worthy.

After a moment she says, in quiet, emotionless voice, although loud enough so everyone can hear what she is saying.

"Annabel Zarathi, a warrior and a High Errun".

This explanation is obviously enough for her, she stands with her back to the wall and waits for other introductions.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Well, so much for secret. Still, Cerran's eyes scanned the room. There was no doubt that the cadre here were seasoned warriors all. Something had brought them here. Somehow, he could see rumours starting from this fellow Imperious' proclamations.

Cerran rises from his seating, neatly replacing a bookmark in his tome and setting it down on the table. "A Treatise on the Rise and Fall of the Kingdoms of the East". He'd known the elven druid, Gallwyn, who had written the first edition of the book. His copy was, of course, a reprint; the original was several hundred years old. It read like it, too. Gallwyn should have stuck to summoning nature's wrath.

Addressing the room, Cerran introduces himself. "Cerran, sometimes 'the Grey', as his Grace here seems to know me - warrior, scholar, arcanist and student of the Lady of Mysteries - a pleasure to meet you all"

[Beowulf DW]

Conner looks toward Imperious, "Conducive. You said 'conductive to our process.' I think you meant 'conducive.' Oh, and I'm Conner, some call me the Iron Lotus when they think they're being clever. They're not."

Yes, Conner is a bit of a grammar Nazi.

[moritheil]

A hulking half-giant, eight feet tall and clad in full plate bearing the symbol of St. Cuthbert, steps into the tavern and peers about. Upon seeing the group of adventurers headed to a back room, he moves to follow you.

"Excuse me," he booms. "I bear a message for Cerran the Grey and his companions." His eyes scan the room, then focus on the book Cerran just put down. "Are you he?"


Cerran:
He is indeed a giant of some type, of about average intelligence. You recall that the duke employed a half-giant envoy at some point in the war.

Aer:
You recognize this half-giant. This is Luthor, priest of Cuthbert, one of the few to have challenged Grashak to single combat and lived.

Oro:
You may have heard of this fellow, as there aren't many half-giants who follow Cuthbert. He is probably Luthor, a priest who fostered a goblin child in an attempt to teach him the ways of good. The clergy of Cuthbert are active in this city, though the clergy of Pholtus are as well, and the two don't really get along.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


"I am Cerran the Grey. What is your message, sir? And whom, may I ask, do you speak for?"

[moritheil]

"I am Luthor, priest of St. Cuthbert," the half-giant says simply, reaching for the thick wooden door and shutting it behind him. It isn't clear that this will cut off the sound of his booming voice, but perhaps it will muffle it somewhat.

"I bear a message from the Duke, who has heard some of the adventurers here were interested in setting out on a quest regarding the ancient Temple of Nine Swords." He slowly pulls out a sealed message tube and turns the end towards the group, showing everyone the official Seal of Antric imprinted in the wax. After displaying it, he offers it to Cerran.

"His Excellency asks you to undertake one last mission before you head off on your quest. In return you will be paid a total of 5,000 gold coins, given letters of safe passage through this and neighboring territories, given letters of marque entitling you to keep any treasure from bandits or goblins you defeat, and released from any ongoing mercenary contracts or army service obligations you may have. You will be given an audience with the Duke himself where he will entertain every question you have regarding this . . . Temple . . . he believes you are interested in. His Excellency wants me to make clear that he cannot promise the actual location of the ruins, but he can point you in the direction of reliable information, as well as the last known location of a few objects from the temple."

Luthor pauses, and at last remembers to lower his voice. "As an added bonus, the Duke knows the location of a legendary weapon, which should prove a powerful boon in your quest. It falls within his lands, and so it is legally his. If you do well on your mission for him, and this weapon interests you, he will give you the location and authorize you to retrieve it and take it with you, with the understanding that another item kept in the same place will be returned to him.

"Some of you are mercenaries. Before giving you the mission, which is sensitive, I personally would like to ask if you are willing to swear oaths to not bear arms against Antric in this generation." He looks at the High Erruni meaningfully. "Only for this generation, while the Duke reigns. I hope this will not be too limiting. The Duke does not ask for this, but my own conscience tells me that to release you from all other obligations and give such power into your hands should in fairness come with a guarantee it will not be used against him."

[meemaas]

Ran

Ran nods quietly, listening to the half-giant speak. He sees this as an opportunity to start their quest, and smiles, more than willing to accept the offer. He turns to Cerran, watching for his reaction though.

[Beowulf DW]

Conner seems somewhat put off.

"Temple? I thought we were looking for swords."

[meemaas]

Ran

"You obviously never paid any attention did you? The temple was where the Swords were made. The swords are the core, but the Temple is just as important." Ran spoke rather mockingly, a hint of disdain in his voice. Why should he have to deal with someone who did not recognize the importance of the Temple itself?

[moritheil]

Luthor looks from Conner to Ran and back, his expression unchanging. "If it is swords you care for, you may want this job. One of the relics the Duke has a last known location of is a sword that was kept at the Temple. That information is actually very recent."

[meemaas]

Ran

"I heard, i'm sure we all did. Except for him i guess. Maybe he just couldn't grasp the word Temple, and stopped paying attention."

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

That Imperious man was... strange in fact calling him a man might be a slight disregard to his obvious physique he was not a man. But Aer decided to go along the path that the eccentric marked.

-Aer, called the Raven, if there is going to be a story to tell and fight to take count me in.

The nine blades were not alien to the Raven, he had heard of them while he sword danced under the patronage of Cela, his purpose in fact could be the same, maybe that refounding was his objective. Maybe. Who knows? The way of the sword was a tricky path, a straight path but tricky none the less.

He listens to the name of his companions with interests, noting them down mentally. Annabel the High Errun, at first he had taken her for an elf, but she was not. Oro d'Wee follower of Wee Jas, and probably a combat medic, nice to have someone other than myself to patch me up. Cerran the Grey and a follower of Mystra, by the grace of Cela, how many deities of magic had interests in that small conclave. The next one to introduce himself, was Rev's friend, Conner the Iron Lotus, that might be a clever nickname.

A sound got to the ears of Aer interrupting his interests in the coterie his eyes follow his ears and looks at Luthor, recognizing him pretty fast for who he was. He seemed to have serious business to conduct with Cerran.

When the half giant reaches for the door Aer moves its shoulder so the raven takes places and flies to the common room perching itself in the ceiling, keeping an eye not only on the people there but also in the door, just in case.

5000 gold pieces, total, doesn't seem much, but that might not be the hook, at least not the hook that he was going to bit. He found much more interest in being able to get information directly from the duke. And of course, the letters of marque were really interesting.

-Sir Luthor I can swear to not bear arms against Antric, unless Antric raises arms against me. I might be able to avoid a conflict or two, but won't be able to survive a generation without wielding the sword if I were to fell from the grace of the Duke. I mention this because I am no oath breaker and I don't intend to make an oath that I cannot keep.

Antric was also a too general concept for my taste, I'll make sure to swear to not bear arms against the duke, nor Antric, didn't want to be unable to take my blade to any throat cutter wearing an Antric cloth. A sword, information about a sword, maybe that was indeed the path.

Mori
The raven familiar is outside reading actions to make spot/listen checks to anyone acting suspiciously

[appending_doom]

The Ruby Knight listens attentively throughout the speech, although as the giant speaks, she shifts from one foot to another; she does not seem wholly aware of this movement, and it suggests that, despite her apparent rough and scholarly appearance at the moment, she is a woman of action.

At last, when the man is finished, she nods. "I will not bring arms against the Duke or his people, so long as he lives, with one caveat, and that is of my prior oath. Should he offend the Ruby Sorceress, and she demand his destruction, I will not stay my hand for this sake." Her lips quirk at the end of the statement. "If you think he can avoid drawing the personal wrath of the Goddess of Death, however, we should have no problems."

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran considers Luthor's words carefully. As he weighs them, he looks to each member of the gathered party in turn, seemingly in thought. While doing this, however, he projects a telepathic message to everyone in the room except Luthor. He modulates the psychic projection to mimic his speaking voice, hoping the others will recognise it.

<<We have gathered here with a goal: to find and restore the Temple of the Nine Swords. This I mean to see through. Each of us brings different skills - this mode of communication is one of mine, but in context not nearly as valuable as another. In a past life, a life among lives stretching back ages, I have been to the Temple of Nine Swords. I have encountered their foes, rakshasas and worse, seeking to forever close the Sublime Way. I have fought one of their masters. I have climbed the temple steps in a land much warmer than this.

For all of this, the details are lost to me, like early childhood memories might be patchy for you. I believe this offer is an excellent lead, and the Duke's support in these lands could be invaluable.>>

Cerran seems to come to a decision, stands, and addresses Luthor. "I do not presume to speak for everyone gathered here, but myself? I will agree to these terms, with one clarification. I take oaths rarely and seriously. I will swear not to challenge the Duke's authority nor take arms against the sovereign state of Antric, within this generation, unless Antric takes arms or action against me or my compatriots outside the governance of law and the terms of our agreement. This I will swear by the Light and my hope of salvation, if it is agreeable to you brother?

[moritheil]

Luthor nods. "Yes, of course. Your concern for the particulars reflects well on you. I cannot expect a priest to offer any commitment above her devotion to her deity, nor can I ask anyone to stay their hand in the unlikely event that Antric threatens you first somehow. The Duke places great faith in you - faith which I hope to see extend both ways. These letters of safe passage have no expiration, so I believe His Excellency means to make you always welcome here."

"On behalf of Antric, I accept your oaths." He nods solemnly at Aer, Oro, and Cerran in turn, then looks at the others.

[meemaas]

Ran

Ran nods once more. "I accept these terms. I never would have reason to do otherwise."

[Oh My God]

Imperious chuckles richly, in a fashion not far removed from demented before he exults," Jolly good! No problems with that oath at all. Always thought Antric was quite a clever fellow. Nice to hear we've got a solid start already!"

[Lexin]

After hearing the conditions:
...how long was a generation for humans again?...50 years? Something like that I think...

"If Antric would be at war with my people I will fight. If there is a tournament and Antric's representative is there I will fight. If any of Antric attacks me or my companions I will fight. If you wish to hide behind an oath in other cases, so be it. I swear not to bear arms against Antric, except as in aforementioned conditions, till the Duke reigns."

All of that said in quiet, confident voice. A bit mocking at times.

[DM only]

Knowledge (Local) to check if the oath doesn't violate any Errun laws.
[roll0]

[moritheil]

The half-giant nods at Ran, Imperious, and Annabel. "I accept your oaths on behalf of Antric." He looks at Conner speculatively.

Lexin:
It doesn't violate the code. Legally speaking, High Erruni don't really take promises to the short-lived races very seriously anyhow. The attitude involved is sort of like promising someone else's 5 year old kid that Santa will bring them toys if they are good. On the other hand, a promise to a dragon, fey, or Outsider would be very serious indeed, because those races tend to actually know what they are talking about.

[Beowulf DW]

Conner squirms uncomfortably under the half-giant's gaze.

"I'm not in the habit of swearing oaths. Swear too many, and you're guaranteed to break at least one if you so much as visit the privy. I swear that the Duke need not count me among his enemies so long as he behaves as he has in the past, with regard for the well-being of the common folk in mind."

[moritheil]

Luthor nods. "Fairly given. On behalf of Antric, I accept this oath." He looks at the room. "Now I will relate to you the mission, and the cause of my secrecy."

"Many of you know that Khaz-Karan, the dwarven city, lies in the mountains to the west. Though ancient enemies of the goblins, they have been strangely silent in this war. We have had mercenaries come out of the mountains, but none remember seeing any dwarves in years. The few dwarves that have come from the west to join us are not of Khaz-Karan.

"The Duke fears some terrible fate has come to the dwarves. However, there is the army of the undead massing in the Black Hills that lie between here and the mountains to consider. Due to the delicate balance of power in the war, for years he dared not move a large force into the area, or risk opening another front that we were ill-prepared to fight on. But now the goblins are on the defensive, and we have breathing room. Something must be done. The friendship between the dwarves of Khaz-Karan and the men of Antric is not to be discarded.

"Find out what has happened to Khaz-Karan. The letters in here," he indicates the message tube, "are the first set of letters of passage, valid within Antric. They will probably do you no good against the undead, but any human, dwarven, or elven officials should respect them. I will take down your names as the rightful bearers of these, even as I will record that I have received your oaths - with qualifiers.

"The actual location of the city is kept secret, and dwarves shoot giants and goblins on sight to keep it that way. Fey and humans have been allowed of old, when agreements stood to have arms and armor forged there. When you get near, if the dwarves still live in the city, their scouts will find you and direct you. If they do not, your task will be more difficult, but you are all experienced soldiers and adventurers. You would then need to look for clues about what happened in the city itself.

"The main danger in this trip is the necromancer. The 'Lady of the Black Hills,' as they call her, is powerful and unpredictable. Tread carefully. We would value any information on her, but not at the cost of exposing you to her.

"To avoid panic or speculation, we have been very quiet about the dwarves. I think it would be best if you avoided talking about this in public."

[appending_doom]

The Ruby Knight nods throughout the speech; she seems intent on taking in the facts presented.

"I know well to keep secrets," she says. "And death holds no fear for me. I will ferret out this necromancer's secrets, if the opportunity presents itself. My Lady has no patience for such things." She grins, an almost feral expression on her face.

[Beowulf DW]

Conner smiles at the Duke's ingenuity. A small, elite force could accomplish what armies couldn't, while going unnoticed by the Lady of the Black Hills.

"Our first priority is the dwarven city, not the undead. Let's not go out of our way to make trouble for ourselves."

[Oh My God]

" Good idea about keeping the whole thing hush-hush. Wouldn't want to startle the horses, after all." Imperious agrees with a sage and august nod, stroking at his chin despite the obvious absence of a beard upon it.

" Who wants to put down some bub on whether the Lady of the Whatsits is somehow to blame for the silence of Khaz-Kharan?" The foreign noble asks, looking around the room. " I'm thinking... zombie dwarves. In pairs. One standing on the other's shoulders."

[Beowulf DW]

Conner strokes his chin and responds in a half-serious tone, "Standing on each others' shoulders, eh? That would effectively double their head-butt and bite range."

[Oh My God]

" The real question, I suspect, is if they would groan for,' Brrrraaains' or instead if they would go for,'Bbbbbbeeeer'. I've never met a dwarf that could resist a good stout." He clears his throat. " Perhaps, for obvious reasons."

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


"We make for the Black Hills and Khaz-Karan, then. With any luck, the dwarves simply decided to weather the war by retreating into their halls and fortifications" Cerran postulates, though he does not sound like he believes this to be likely.

"I suggest we make suitable preparations for our journey. To that end, Luthor, would it be possible to advance some or all of our payment for this endeavor, so that we might equip accordingly?"

Diplomacy for an advance payment: [roll0]
Knowledge(local) for magical supplies in the city: [roll1]
Knowledge(geography) for best route to take to the Black Hills and Khaz-Karan: [roll2]

[Aeryr]

Khaz-Karan, the lost dwarven city, Aer hadn't been there, ever. Haven't been even close. But he supposed that the path of the sword takes unsuspected ways.

-Sir Luthor, for how long have you been without news of Khaz-Karan? If the dwarves are still there they might take us for intruders before reading the letters and shoot us on sight.

Aer raises his shoulders, if the dwarves are going to shoot them they are going to shoot them, considering it before it happens wouldn't help them at all.

-Imperious, i'll rather have the dwarves with another dwarf over its shoulder than an empty head craving for brains soaked in beer, it would be easier to decapitate them. But zombie dwarves will certainly difficult locating Khaz-Karan, unless...

Aer gazes the knight of the Ruby Lady with respect.

-Knight d'Wee any chance that you can extract information from the undead? And if possible keep us hidden from them? It might fall under your area of expertise.

[meemaas]

Ran

"There is no need for you to worry about being mistaken as intruders. If they are indeed holed up, I can get us in safely, so long as you remain behind me if the time comes" He smiled. He wasn't about to reveal his heritage, but he was confident he could explain away a disguise if he needed to.

[moritheil]

"I suggest we make suitable preparations for our journey. To that end, Luthor, would it be possible to advance some or all of our payment for this endeavor, so that we might equip accordingly?"

Luthor hesitates. "Any payment will have to be authorized by the treasury, but I will see if I can get them to give you some money later today. Is there a particular item you want? I can see if we have it, and give it to you without the markup the merchants here use, taking the cost out of the payment."

You can indeed buy magical items in this city. It's a good thing you have a lot of contacts amongst the various mercenaries. However, there's some price inflation - this is a war zone, after all. How much inflation depends on whether they owe you favors or you owe them favors.

The best route through the Black Hills is probably straight west following the road, if you want to be fastest. However, if you want to avoid detection, you may wish to avoid the road. In that case you can detour SW or NW around the bulk of the hills - SW is easier, NW is the very long way around.


-Sir Luthor, for how long have you been without news of Khaz-Karan? If the dwarves are still there they might take us for intruders before reading the letters and shoot us on sight.

"At least three years," the half-giant says simply. "Maybe more. We did not think much of it at first - the war was pressing."

He holds up the tube. "I assume none of you will object if I break the seal and record your names on these travel papers now."

[meemaas]

Ran

"I see no reason to object. And since I am the least famous person among us, to the point where my new companions have yet to hear my name, I am Ran. Just Ran."

[moritheil]

Annabel, Conner, Oro (Sense Motive):

Luthor didn't really answer the second half of Aer's question, but it doesn't seem like he's hiding anything intentionally. He probably hasn't seriously considered the idea that dwarves would be hostile to humans except by mistake.

[Beowulf DW]

"Well, thank you for everything, Luthor. By all means, make with the name recording. I don't suppose anyone would care to help me get some groceries? We'll need rations for this trip, I think."

[Lexin]

The situation of dwarves sounds both interesting and boring for Annabel. Interesting, because something that threatened dwarves, quite good warriors, could be a worthy enemy. On the other hand... it still sounds like helping weaklings... She also smirks at the mention of buying rations.
They are so... helpless.

"Luthor, right? You mentioned Legendary weapon, where is it? What else should we expect there? And what is there that Duke cannot acquire himself?"

[moritheil]

The half-giant nods at the high errun. "I don't know much about it. You'll have to talk to His Excellency when you get back from Khaz-Karan. He probably could retrieve it himself, if he really wanted to - I think he just never had time.

"He is good with a sword," Luthor adds, by way of explanation. "Better than many I have seen. He used to adventure himself, but then his father died, and he became Duke."

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

Aer ponders the answer of Luthor considering that maybe Khaz-Karanites or whatever the people from Khaz-Kharan were called might be a little over the edges when it came to strangers. Three years without exterior contact was quite a lot.

-I don't have a problem with recording my name Sir Luthor. By the way, three years is quite a lot of time, has something happened recently, barring the war, that has made the aid of the dwarves more necessary?

There was also the option that they were suspecting the dwarves of something foul, but he doubted that Sir Luthor would answer that, since it might scare the adventuring party. Aer looked at Ran the last one to introduce himself and accepted the fact that he, somehow, could deal with the dwarves, and looked at Conner. With a movement of his cloak he revealed a piece of traveler's bread, it seemed freshly backed and tasteful. Aer passed it to the Iron Lotus with a throw.

-It tastes good but after a month on the road you will be hoping to have something else. I can feed myself and no more than two people, Rev can feed himself easily.

everyone
Traveler Cloak, best magic item ever

[Beowulf DW]

"Impressive, Aer. I'll see if I can round up some rations for the rest of us. If it can only feed three people, it won't kep our bellies full, but it will be enough to keep us from starving."

Everyone:
Would anyone care to pool our cash to purchase a mule and a wagon to carry supplies? We might need it if we're taking the long way around, or if we have a lot of loot to carry.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey



Luthor hesitates. "Any payment will have to be authorized by the treasury, but I will see if I can get them to give you some money later today. Is there a particular item you want? I can see if we have it, and give it to you without the markup the merchants here use, taking the cost out of the payment."


"If possible, scrolls of a few arcane spells would be most useful - such things can be very difficult to find on the road when one needs them most. Specifically, I could use Locate City, Mirror Image and Anticipate Teleportation. In addition, I would need the arcane focus for the latter - a small platinum hourglass worth no less than five hundred gold pieces."

Cerran looks around the room. "If anyone else could benefit from arcane spells, please let me know, I will try to do my best to assist with my limited resources."

[moritheil]

I don't have a problem with recording my name Sir Luthor. By the way, three years is quite a lot of time, has something happened recently, barring the war, that has made the aid of the dwarves more necessary?

"No, you are right, Aer. The dwarven army seems less necessary with the goblins routed. But we must have arms and armor made, and their workmanship is the finest." He pauses. "I was not sure I should mention this, in case you ran into that necromancer, but you have the right to know. If the undead army should attack, the dwarves would be natural allies against it. I'm sure they like it no more than we. That, if anything, would be the reason their army may be needed in the future.

"Try to stay on their good side, if you find them. We don't want to provoke them - or even the necromancer - if it can be helped."

The priest nods at Cerran's request for magical supplies. "You may have to come with me later, to make sure we get everything right."

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran returns the priest's nod, "Of course".

Addressing the others in the room once more, Cerran continues. "From what I recall of the roads to the Black Hills, we have three options for travel. The most direct, fastest route is probably straight west, following the road. However, if we wish to avoid detection we would probably want to avoid the main thoroughfare through the Hills. To this end, we could skirt around the hills, south- or north-west. The southern road is probably easier, for the northern route would, I guess, be very long. Does this assessment seem accurate to you, Luthor?

[moritheil]

Luthor blinks. "Going south around will avoid most of the hills. Going north is more likely to get you spotted by the goblin army, unless you can cut things just right. They are still active up north. It's still not as bad as encountering the necromancer, but probably worse than whatever animals or bandits live to the south.

"Unless there are demons left to the south," he adds after a moment.

[appending_doom]

Oro raises a cautious hand. "To offer full disclosure, I should warn you that I am not...specialized in dealing with the undead. I can command some of the weakest, but my skills are mostly focused to dealing with the spellcasters that command them."

[meemaas]

Ran

"Destroying Undead requires no special skills. Simply cut them up until they can no longer function. I believe though that we should take the southern route, avoid being noticed as long as possible."

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

The man caresses its neck thinking on what has been said.

-I'll rather risk the undead than the demons, and I'll rather not risk alerting the goblinoids of our movements at least for now.

He looks first at Cerran and at Sir Luthor later.

-Could you add a scroll of or two of Lay of the land? A map of the zone, something recent if possible, and a working compass will also be rather useful.

Then he shifts his gaze towards Oro d'Wee.

-In the past I have been able to hide from undead with a little help of magic, borrowed from sacred writings but I am sure that your skills will be much better than mine in that direction. Maybe you could ask the Ruby Sorceress for aid in the journey to come? Being undetectable to the lesser undead will certainly enhance our chances of passing unnoticed.

And finally he gives a hard look at Ran.

-I'll rather not have to cut them repeteadly, most of the time just geting a barrier between you and them does the job just allright.

[Lexin]

Annabel Zarathi

"Actually encounter with demons sounds much more interesting than the one with undead... on the other hand killing everything in our way isn't the objective, but finding out what happened to dwarves is. So either shortest route or southern I would say."

[Oh My God]

The swift path is the one I vote for. If we're voting. I can't tell, and actually, that would suggest this little bande a parte possessed some sort of democraticazation. Strange notion, that."

Imperious harrumphs, and then concludes. " In any event; the sooner we're to the dwarves and back again, the sooner we can be about our actual business!"

[Beowulf DW]

Conner raises his hand high.

"I vote for the southern route. All in favor?"

[Lexin]

Annabel quietly raises her hand, voting for southern route.

[Oh My God]

" Fine, fine. If we must vote, let it be the southern route."

[appending_doom]

"I will walk any route required of me," Oro says blandly. "I am certain all of them will lead to necessary violence, wherein I will do my best to help us achieve our...ultimate goal."

[meemaas]

Ran

"Majority rules was it? The southern route it is. Heavens knows thats five votes already" he pauses. Then realizes his mistake. "Yea I vote we go that way too. I make five. So when are we gonna be ready? I know we need to wait on some spells, but does anyone else have any plans?" He spoke fast and clearly, both contrary to his previous statements.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


"The southern route is fine for me... between roving demons or the possibility of alerting the undead to our presence as we pass, it seems there is a good chance we'll run into trouble either way." Cerran continues, "In terms of when I'll be ready to leave Ran, with Luthor's aid in providing supplies I will need two days study for each new spell to be learnt. Four days should suffice for our immediate needs - I would rather not fight hellspawn without the ability to interfere with their teleportation, and the ability to divine the location of the city could be crucial in the event there are no dwarves there to.. em... welcome us."

[moritheil]

Luthor takes down each of your names and provides you with your letters of passage.

"If you have any further need of me, feel free to inquire at the Temple of St. Cuthbert. Cerran, I will see you later at the Armory. Until then, may the gods be with you."

He salutes you all, and turns to leave.

[appending_doom]

Oro turns to walk with him, so as not to delay the cleric. "Just one more question. Do you recall if the creatures that mark the southern route are beings of orderly evil, or those of chaos? It might very well make a difference for our success or failure to know."

[moritheil]

Luthor pauses at the door. "The demon that led them has been identified as a marilith. They are of chaos."

Nodding at Oro, he walks out the door.

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

Aer shakes his head and looks at the gathering. Demons it is it seems. Well demons will be. Hungry soul feasting demons. Of course, undead are much harder to deal with. Yep. They are.

-South is it then?

Aer stands after Luthor and walks towards the common room.

-I shall be outside, giving a last show before leaving. If someone wishes to spar this soldiers here certainly will appreciate it.

Once he walks into the common room Rev lands on his shoulders, with the back of his hand he caresses the neck of the black bird.

-Coin, Coin, Coin

-Yes, coin, but fill me in.

With a serious glance that lasts no longer than a heart beat, Aer looks at its familiar and for a second it seems that a glitter of intelligence shines behind the dark eyes of Rev.

[moritheil]

Days pass. Cerran visits the Armory and obtains magical materials, after going with Luthor to plead their case before some treasury officials. Oro consults several eye-witness reports and verifies that the demons encountered months ago were indeed from the Abyss. Aer participates in a few sparring matches and soundly thrashes the unfortunate soldiers who wind up opposing him. Annabel makes inquiries and discovers that Luthor's church will be happy to sell holy water at cost.

Connor attempts to cash in some of the funds to obtain a mule and wagon. Luthor helps him do this. Imperious gives an amusing lecture on proper modes of governance and administration that leaves one accountant clutching her gut laughing, and others shaking their heads. Ran purchases food and water for the road ahead.

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

It seems that the day to leave towards the lost dwarven city has finally arrived. Aer gives his best regards to the troops stationed there, and trades several jokes with the soldiers. In his time at the Inn he had meet some nice people and departing was mandatory. It was not a sad thing, for Aer enjoyed the traveler's live, specially when it was following the path of the sword.

He meets his new travel companions at the appointed time in front of the wagon.

-Whenever you are ready.

[meemaas]

Ran

Being the first time he had seen the other in two days, he made his way to the wagon quickly, his spear strapped to his back and his hair, not brown anymore, had become dirty blonde, and he himself appeared to have grown a few inchs. He still bore the same basic face the others recognized, but upon close inspection one would think somethings unusual.

[appending_doom]

Oro arrives shortly after Aer. Although she wears a heavy suit of armor, she moves with easy grace. A ring rests on each of her index fingers, one of them a simple platinum.

Her maul is slung over her back. She nods to Aer and Ran.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran arrives to find Ran, Aer and Oro already at the designated meeting point. Not a bad day to set out, Cerran decides. After days spent poring over arcane texts in study, it felt good to be out in the fresh air again. He nods to the others as he approaches, slightly adjusting the strap holding the glaive to his back. "Good afternoon gentlemen, m'lady."

[Oh My God]

The ostentatious form of Imperious approaches the rendezvous point, and he's muttering the whole way, his peasant squire trailing some distance behind him carrying a large bundle. " ... bloody savages. No idea how backwards they are, prancing about with -coins- jingle jangle jingling in their pockets. Everyone and their uncle's cousin knows that bearer bonds are the proper foundation...," and that sentence trails off in to oblivion as he realizes he's arrived at the departure.

" Oh! Jolly good! Thought I was going to go stir crazy, waiting to hit the road again. Squire Beans! Stow the tent, and prepare yourself for disembarkaration!" barks Imperious, ah, imperiously. It is worth noting that this peasant is someone -entirely different- than the peasant he was shouting at at the tavern several days earlier.

[Lexin]

Annabel arrives late again, if it wasn't for Imperious and his loud behavior she would still be looking. [thoughts] I really need to buy a map or something...

Before, she took some time (and funds) to buy the holy water, judging it could be useful in encounters with demons.

Now she approaches others, giving each a short nod as greeting and waits for them to set off.


Is someone holding these 5k gp on character sheet? Or was it distributed between everyone?
If the first, take 100 from it (and I will hold 4 flasks of Holy water).

[appending_doom]

Once everyone is assembled, Oro gives the group a careful assessment. "I know we are all warriors, but I must know - which among you are most fragile in battle? I bear magic capable of shielding a companion from damage." She produces a platinum ring, a duplicate of the one on her right hand.

[Beowulf DW]

Arriving quite late, Conner's shouts can be heard around a corner. As Conner turns the corner, the reason for his tardiness becomes clear. It seems that the young warblade has inadvertently purchased a very stubborn mule. As Conner attempts to drag the mule (and thusly the cart) over, he can be heard threatening the intractable beast between grunts.

"I've overcome goblins-hrgh!-zombies-argh!-and the occaisional demon-grrr!-you don't stand a chance against me you, you mule!"

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran eyes the mule that Conner is half leading, half dragging towards the group. Inwardly, he sighs. I can't wait to see what his Grace makes of this.

He answers Oro, "Knight de'Wee, if noone else is forthcoming, I would welcome additional protection. I aim not to get hit, but that aim can be foiled by the aims of others, as it were."

[Beowulf DW]

Conner stops a moment to catch his breath.

"Hello, everyone. What's this about aims , now?"

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey

"Greetings, Conner." Cerran gestures to Oro, "Knight de'Wee was inquiring as to who amongst us would benefit most from additional divine protection. Personally I'll never turn away additional preparation, though of course if others are in need I, Mystra willing, should manage fine."

[Beowulf DW]

"Oh, well, don't worry about me. I can take a hit. In fact, it's more or less expected of practitioners of Iron Heart."

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

-Why don't we discuss that while we march? It's not like we have all the time of the world we should use the light hours.

He jumps into the wagon and looks at the rest of the party with a "come on" look.

-On getting, hit, I don't think anyone here likes to get hit, I will advice that you decide on that on your own Sir Knight.

Aer's routine
Aer likes to dance around, he does some exercises in the early morning, to keep his muscles from getting sore. He will be keeping bolstering voice on from this very moment. He repeats those dancing exercises once at noon and another time before going to sleep.

At early morning he also sacrifices one of his spells to power the shield bracer.

Most of the time he sips cold tea on the wagon and handles some to whoever appears to be thirsty, having an awesome cloak of awesomeness is awesome.

He expends his time familiarizing himself with the area and keeping a travel journal

Rev, the familiar, flies arround the wagon and does a raven life

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


"Yes, indeed, let's get going."

Daily routine/buffs:

Greater Mage Armor, cast with Lesser Metamagic Rod (Extend) on myself - Duration: 20 hours.
Anticipate Teleportation, cast on myself - Duration: 24 hours.
Greater Resistance, cast on myself - Duration: 24 hours.
Sacrifice the slot preparing Enlarge Person into Shield Bracer.
Cast Evard's Black Tentacles into Mystic Phoenix Stance for DR 8/evil. Cerran maintains this stance all day.

Cerran applies the above every day when he gets up.

[Oh My God]

" Protection from harm you say? Interesting. Innnnteresting." Imperious strokes at his chin, obviously thinking about this concept. " In fact, the more that I think about it, the better that sounds. I would rather enjoy not being hit. It is... it is... oh, dash it. I've gone and lost my words. The.. dregs? The... nutters?."

" The pits, sir?," suggests the new(?) 'Squire Beans', the peasant making a play for favor and prestige (or, perhaps, just tired of the purple haired man searching for words).

" Splendid! The pits, indeed. Thank you, Squire Beans. Good show. So count me as interested in that extra bit of safety," Imperious reconfirms, nodding for emphasis.


Even though he has a load of hit points, owing to his Aruntar traits, Imperious would most definitely benefit from any sort of damage shield could be provided.

Daily Routine:

1. Yell at Squire Beans, then immediately compliment him/her on his posture, moral rectitude, and ability to carry a tune.

2. Before each evening meal, he stands, holds up a glass of whatever he is drinking that evening, and toasts," King and Country!"

3. Every morning after rising and evening before sleeping, he performs an outlandish routine of 'calisthenics', which mostly seems to involve jumping jacks, shadow boxing, and bizarre stretches.

[appending_doom]

Oro begins to move along with the rest of the group. "I was always taught to protect the arcane casters first," she muses.

She holds out the ring to Cerran.


She wears (and sleeps in) her armor, aided by the restful crystal.

Oro practices her warrioring in the morning, as appropriate. She enters Martial Spirit stance, which she maintains most of the day.

Just before they start marching, she does the following:

Oro casts status on three members of the group (Imperious, Cerran, Aer). This lasts nine hours.

She casts shield other on Cerran, which again lasts nine hours.

She stays close to Cerran in the marching (within 45 feet, as per shield other).

She does not keep her weapon drawn; the return crystal allows her to draw it as a free action, anyway.

She ends the day by praying for her spells around sunset (in the ruby glare of the setting sun).

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran accepts the ring, rearranging some of his silver jewellery to place it on the fourth finger of his right hand.

Oro:
<<My thanks, Oro. If you require this ring returned at any point, merely let me know.>>

Imperious:
<<Rest assured, your Grace, I will do my best to attempt to prevent foes from landing blows against you.>>

[Beowulf DW]

Conner resigns himself to coaxing the mule down the road.

Daily Routine:

-Conner removes his armor each night to sleep, but keeps his shield and at least one of his swords close at all times.
-Each morning he dons his armor once again and practices briefly.
-He occasionally turns grammar nazi on Imperious again, and gets into some heated discussions about sentence structure and subject-predicate agreement.

[Lexin]

Annabel Zarathi

"We are all here now, lets go."


Annabel needs only 2 hours of sleep, so she would help with keeping watch.
She always keeps her weapon close to her and sometimes give some mocking comment... mostly to Imperious.


She enters Hunter's Sense stance for whole day, changing it to Blood in the Water in the first round of combat (or just before, if possible)

That is about it, I would have to declare the rest, when the time comes.

[meemaas]

Ran

Ran waits for the others to start moving, simply focusing on himself for a moment.

Ran spends his time in the Thicket of Blades stance, he tends to lean up against a wall or tree to sleep, prefering to sleep sitting up, and spends at least half an hour practicing with his Greatspear during downtimes. Other than that, every morning he changes one minor physical detail about himself, because he can't quite get out of his habit of changing his face everytime he meets someone new.

[Oh My God]

" Yes, well, I should hope so! I'm dash important, after a fashion. Head of state, foreign potentate, and all that rot," Imperious says, seemingly out of nowhere.

What a loon, hey? Talking to himself.

[Beowulf DW]

"Imperious, I don't suppose you're suffering from the battle sickness, are you? I've heard that the pressures of war can break a man's mind and cause him to relive unpleasant memories. I mean...it would explain a great deal about you."

[Oh My God]

" 'Battle sickness' you say? My great aunt's knickers no, never been taken sick a day in my life. I eat plenty of onions, and drink plenty of tea. Early to bed, early to rise, keeps a man healthy, wealthy and as strong as ten guys you know. Ah-ha! That reminds me." He gestures over at the current Squire Beans, who comes over with a small flask. " Tea time," explains Imperious in a conspiratorial tone to Conner after taking a swig.

" This does remind me of something else, an amusing little annecdote I'd heard years ago; my demi-sister's half-cousin once met a man in Surraq-on-Namqafehad who claimed to have once employed a drayage-man who's uncle was an enchanter who specialized in madness," begins the nobleman, in an ominously leisurely tempo, drinking his tea throughout," The driving of, and curing from, you see. Handy little business model that; creating your own supply of work. Something like a medical man who happens to leave tripping hazards all about, or a priest what summons demons to drive out. So, it seems that this enchanters favorite methodological method was to force a man... or, I presume, woman, though they're already mad enough, eh, eh?" And remembering that there are women present he says, not convincingly at all," Present company excluded of course, assembled ma'ams. In any event, he would make the man (or woman) think that they were a butterfly dreaming they were an archbishop dreaming they were who they really were! What a capitol way to mess with someone's mind, what what?"

" In all events, started to ramble on there a bit.. as I was saying earlier, no. Don't feel sick at all! Thanks for the concern, though. Such a pleasant chappy, Conner." Having finished his tea, Imperious hands the flask back to Squire Beans, and starts loudly and ostentatiously humming a peculiar foreign aire.

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

Aer picks the flask of warm tea from his cloak and takes a small sip while listening to the crazy anecdote of Imperious. For a moment he considers writting that down but it seems that the man is crazy enough without an audience, an interested troubadour would certainly aggraviate the issue.

After a moment of the story he loses his focus, and tilts his head closes his eyes and start whistling a simple marching song.

[moritheil]

The days pass, as the group goes about their routine. The first two days out of Ferdham are uneventful. Clouds gather in the North, heralding rain. A few farmers pass you, and they are all careful to show respect and display no threat to what is obviously an armed band headed out of the capital.

On the morning of the third day, a group of armed and armored men appears on the road about where it passes into a sparse forest. They don't appear to have horses or wagons, but they are using the road. Annabel and Conner spot them from a good 80 feet away.

Cerran:
Mindsight reveals that there are 5 humanoids on the road and another 2 off the road, hidden in the bushes just at the edge of your detection range. None of the men on the road are particularly intelligent, though the two in the bushes are above average.

OOC: Just a reminder, please include whatever spells/effects are up on you in a spoiler block. Feel free to take whatever actions your characters would.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey

The road thus far had proven uneventful, but at the edge of his mind's reach Cerran detected a change in the winds.

"Care, friends. There are at least seven humanoids on the road ahead - five on the road and two off the road in flanking positions"

If combat starts, Cerran will use Nerveskitter

[meemaas]

Ran

"Are you worried? Should i be?" Ran spoke quickly, he was never a stranger to random attacks, and decided to prepare himself in case it was one. He pulled his spear from his back, taking hold of it in both hands, even the spear clearly dwarfed him, before calling out a command word that was so muddled it could not be clearly understood. Doing so, he suddenly began to grow in size, becoming much larger than his companions, he took pace behind the others. He was not gonna be winning any stealth competitions, but he was bound to be ready if they got attacked.

Ran believes in being ready whenever possible. He will use his bracers every minute until combat starts, just before the effect wears off so he doesn't shrink. He also has his weapon drawn now.

Edit: stance, thicket of blades

[Beowulf DW]

Conner raises an eyebrow as he watches Ran grow in size.
"Huh."

Drawing his adamantine sword, Conner readies his shield and moves into an Iron Heart stance.

Punishing Stance: +1d6 damage, -2 AC

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

With a movement of his shoulder the raven takes flight leaving the wagon and inspecting the surroundings from afar. Rev is searching for the men that Cerran mentioned while his master stands and puts the tea flask away, stretching himself he reaches for his neck caressing his badge.

-May my steps be true. - He utters with solemnity before he starts dancing with small and soft steps at the beginning but increasing the pace as he gets the rhythm right. He ain't moving from the spot but somehow his feet seem to fly and his movement is inspiring and reassuring to those gathered.

Rev spot check [roll0] Aer has casted inspirational boost, started an inspire courage dance and used a charge from the badge of valor. Everyone should have +4 morale to dam and attack (and saves against fear) remember that everyone also has a +2 morale to will saves due to Aer's stance.

[appending_doom]

Oro carefully shifts herself, trying to stay within close range of all of her allies. Her hand surreptitiously draws to her symbol of Wee Jas - ready to cast a spell, but not yet committed. Most of her magic is short-lived, and not to be wasted unless a threat is imminent.


Martial Spirit Stance

status (Imperious, Cerran, Aer)
shield other (Cerran; close range; 45 feet)


@Cerran

Please remember your +2 deflection bonus to AC and +1 resistance on save when traveling during the day, unless you've got better than that from something else.

[Lexin]

Annabel smiles slightly and says in quiet voice
"Finally, I was already getting bored."
She shifts smoothly to another stance, already looking for weak points.


Weapon drawn
Stance: Assassin Stance

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


"I am not worried, Ran, but it in my experience it always pays to be prepared for the worst" Cerran says calmly, drawing his glaive from its bindings on his back. He adds, arching an eyebrow at the now towering form of Ran "I see I'm not alone in this."


Cerran will advance with the group, taking care to stay well within range of Oro.

Current effects:
Currently under the effect of:
Greater Mage Armor
Shield Bracer
Greater Resistance
Mystic Phoenix Stance
Anticipate Teleportation
Shield Other (from Oro)
Inspire Courage (from Aer)
Status (from Oro)

@ Moritheil: I will keep this list updated in the "Conditions and Effects" box on my character sheet. I'll post the full list (spoilered) any time something changes.

[Oh My God]

" Something or someones are indeed in the road. Probably just fellow travelers, sharing this spot of highway." Imperious cups a hand to his mouth and calls to the people obstructing the right of way. ""Halloooo! Splendid spot of weather we're having for a parambulation, don't you think?"

Squire Beans coughs. Imperious takes notice, and glances over at the peasant who gestures at the rest of the group, obviously preparing for violence. His Grace visibly boggles.

"What? You don't think they're just out for a stroll? No? Oh, bother. Dash unsporting. Well, if it comes to it, everyone after me. Let me be the tip of the spear, by jingo, and it'll be over in time for tea," finishes Imperious, readying his weapon.



The Stance: Leading the Charge

The Plan: Who knows?

The Battlecry: Soon

[moritheil]

One of the troops standing in the road, a forty-something human male in banded armor that reveals a weather-beaten face, raises a hand in acknowledgement of Imperious's salute. "Hello there!" he shouts back. "It is nice weather! But bad news, I'm afraid, if you're looking to go through this forest."

Annabel, Conner, Aer, Ran:

It doesn't sound like a threat - it sounds like he's talking about the weather, or some equally neutral topic. Perhaps he's referring to some condition of the road.

Cerran:

One of the humanoids in the bushes has moved out of your range.

[Oh My God]

Cupping his hand to his mouth again, Imperious proclaims," As the Hereditary Jarl of Pehweyaweya once said in the midst of a heated game of ball-to-stick,' No bad news isn't some good news for nobody else'. Poor blighted savage wasn't very good with grammar I'm afraid but he was always looking on the bright side of life!"

" You know, I rather like this modus operatica of conversation. More discussions should be held at this distance. Exercises the lungs in a pleasant way," Imperious says in a quieter aside to the rest of the group.

" In any event, what -is- the news? The forest isn't closed for reconstruction, is it? Always seems to happen to me when I'm traveling in the off season!," Imperious barks back once more, prompting the presumed guard for more information.

[moritheil]

The man pauses for a moment, as if attempting to digest this odd query. "Right you are. Let us meet, and talk without having to shout." Nodding at those around him, he walks forward towards your group, alone. After a moment, another armored form hurries after him.

The two of them approach your caravan, and it becomes clear that the follower is a young woman wearing a sword at her hip. Catching up to him, she starts speaking quickly in a voice meant for him alone.

Listen DC 18:

"What are you doing, walking out alone? They could be bandits or something!"

[Lexin]

Annabel turns a bit so her lips are not visible to the ones coming her way and whispers to others with slight smirk.
"That's funny, she thinks that we are bandits... I think it is a first for me."

[Beowulf DW]

Conner looks at Annabel with look of profound shock.

"They think we're bandits? We're not the ones hiding and flanking people in the woods. Imperious, do we look like bandits? I'm pretty sure that we don't smell like bandits, at the very least."

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

While he dances he looks at the crowd.

-Well I've been a bandit in some acts, but never heard of bandits going on wagons.

He looks to the sky searching for Rev relieving himself on thinking that the crow doesn't seem to be alerted by the ambushers, nor disposed to steal anything from those there.

listen check[roll0]

[Oh My God]

"Welllll... not bandits per say. But I do know an excellent tailor in the south that some of you could stand to spend some gold on," sayeth Imperious, looking a little bit shiftily at his compatriots.

" So! Who wants to talk to Johnny Law? In the ancient words of Xanxibar, not it."

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran eyes the man and woman approaching the group. Brave of the man, he thought, to give up a safer position to talk. Cerran returns his weapon to its binding. "I'll talk to him." he says, in a low voice, to Imperious and the others.

As the man draws nearer, Cerran steps forward and raises his voice. "Good afternoon sir, madame. My name is Cerran. My companions and I are indeed looking to pass through these woods. We appreciate the warning - what's going on?"

Moritheil:

In the event they might be looking for a trade of information, was there anything noteworthy about the road behind us that they'd benefit from being told about?

Also, Knowledge(geography), (history) and (local) about these woods:
Knowledge(geography): [roll0]
Knowledge(history): [roll1]
Knowledge(local): [roll2]

Finally, Cerran might have sheathed his weapon, but he's still wary of them. In the event combat starts, Nerveskitter.

[Oh My God]

Imperious clears his throat, decides it would be interesting if -he- could manage to develop telepathy, and then begins to attempt to do so. Proceeding to stare intently at the lady that's approaching the group, he concentrates as -hard as he can- on her, all the while making odd faces that he seems to be unawares of.

[Lexin]

Annabel looks at Imperious for a short while then turns to Oro and whispers.
"Oro, could you check Imperious? He seems unwell, even more than usual... Did his insanity affect his motor functions?"

[appending_doom]

"You should have warned me if you expected me to be a diagnostician or healer. Neither comes particularly easily to me."

[Lexin]

"I see. I guess we could just hit him in the head and see if he is back to 'normal' then. It works with 'misbehaving' magic items, so maybe it would work with people too..."

[Oh My God]

At the moment, Imperious is trying very hard to project the image of himself saying,' Why, hello there, how are you? Lovely day for a stroll, isn't it?' to the woman. The fact that he has quite literally already communicated this by more traditional methods, or that he is not achieving anything whatsoever, is not stopping him in the least.

[Beowulf DW]

Fearing for his new friend's health, Conner grabs Imperious' shoulders and shakes him gently but firmly.

"Imperious, I don't know what you're doing, but I'm pretty sure it's not working. Also, you're creeping us out."

[Oh My God]

" Ah, what? But of course! The omega sine waves released by my cognitive exercises must be flooding the area, slowly driving the rest of you temporarily -mad-. How foolish of me not to realize the danger in trying to extemperanize my mentation! The confusion I'm inflicting on your mindselves must be wretched! My sincerest apologies, I will stop forthwith."

Imperious claps a hand to the shoulder of his caring comrade in arms, " Steady on, Conner. Steady on. I'm sure the brainclouds will pass, in time."

[Beowulf DW]

Conner looks at Imperious with something approaching despair in his eyes, though even then he realizes that Imperious will likely mistake this for a look of awe.

Turning to the man and the woman, Conner pleads, "Don't mind us. Just a few mild cases of mental sickness."

[moritheil]

The man appears to do a double-take, then salutes smartly. "Cerran, the Grey Mage? It IS you! Forgive us, we didn't recognize you. Are you our relief? My men and I," he says with a nod to the woman trailing him, "will be happy to brief you at once." The woman salutes also, a half-step behind.

Any further conversation is momentarily interrupted by the spectacle of Imperious. The man only gives the Aruntar the barest glance, reserving his attention for Cerran, though the woman watches with no small measure of alarm on her face.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


"At ease, soldier. These days I possess no rank. A briefing would be appreciated - relief from what, exactly?"

Moritheil:
To the man and the woman:
<<In addition, please excuse my travelling companion. His ways are foreign and often strange, but I know him to be an honourable man.>>

[moritheil]

The man looks at the woman, worry creasing his face before he turns back to Cerran.

"Demons are infesting the forest. They have taken over inside and are using ambush tactics on any humanoids who wander too near. For now, we've posted guards at the boundaries to warn off travelers. Even if you aren't here to relieve us, we'd appreciate any help you see fit to give."

[Oh My God]

" Demons? Did that fellow say demons?," his Grace asks Conner, double-checking that his ears did not deceive him. Having accomplished that fact, he then proceeds without waiting for confirmation and addresses the company of warriors he has already given and then rejected approximately about three dozen names inside of his own head.

" What do you say, lads and laddettes? Seems like a perfect chance to work any kinks out of our modus operandus before any -serious- challenge. Kick the wheels and make sure nothing springs an axle, if you will. Quite a spot of luck for us, actually." Imperious smiles jovially at the prospect of having a chance to demonstrate the martial might of the Aruntar unchained by fear.

[meemaas]

Ran

"Not to say i don't want to, because i do, but don't we have some business to take care of that's more important?" Ran was using his spear to keep himself up as he leaned, watching the others in mild disinterest as they talked.

Continuing to keep the large size active every minute

[Oh My God]

" Ah, but that's the beauty of the thing! We have but merely to continue on our way ( through the forest ) and we'll naturally draw the attention of the foul beasts. We crush them with our crushing crush and snap-poodle-pop the problem is solved!," Imperious crows.

[Beowulf DW]

"Either Imperious's..."condition" is contagious, or he's actually making sense," says Conner with no small amount of insolence.

"Let's go hunt some demons, Cerran." Conner implores the grey swordsman, as casually as though he were imploring an older sibling to go to a tavern with him.

[Aeryr]

Aer the Raven

Aer grins at Imperious comment. Demon hunting is it then. He has already been stretching for a while so he is as ready for combat as he is going to be. While keeping the pace he looks at those gathered there.

-We might need to take this route on our way back, so clearing it now is not a bad idea. Let's let them ambush them, they'll come to us in their own.

[appending_doom]

"Disgusting, disorderly things," Oro mutters. "Luckily, I came prepared. Mind, if any of you have a means of scouting so we could have at least a few seconds' warning of any attack, I can ensure we fight these things with weapons that strike true against the fiends."

There is a momentary pause, and then she looks around at the group. "And another thing: are any of you aligned with the forces of order? There is magic effective against fiends that could have...unpleasant side effects for any allies who are not as lawful as My Lady would prefer."

[Lexin]

"Slaying some demons sounds good for me.
No problems with law here Oro. Although..."
Says Annabel as she looks meaningfully at Imperious.

[Ithandor]

Cerran the Grey


Cerran listens to each of his companions in turn. Aer had a fair point - currently the group was unharassed and prepared to fight if needs be. Who knows what might be pressing them if they had to retreat this way.

Demons. Memories flashed across Cerran's mind, of the Second Battle and a score of battles from a score of lives.

Bloodshed. That's all they care about. That and their infernal Blood War. Purging them from this land was the responsible course of action.

"We are equipped to deal with these foes, and I'd rather not have them behind us as we venture further into potentially hostile territory... particularly given their history of cooperation with the undead." Turning to the man who had approached them, Cerran continues "I'm sorry, sir, I did not get your name. We will need as much information as possible if we are going to undertake this. First, and foremost, who is leading these demons? They are chaotic, ravenous creatures at the best of times - there must be something keeping them organised and in line. Secondly, do you have an estimate of their numbers?"

Cerran pauses for a moment, and then addresses his comrades. "Oro, I fight now and ever for Order. With regard to strategy, I believe we might be able to surprise the demons at their own game. I can detect the presence and location of any creature within one hundred feet, unless they are shielded by powerful magics or possess no living sentient mind. And if the demons try to get the jump on us via teleportation, we should have warning and time to turn the tables."

[Oh My God]

" Laws are shackles on the laissez-faire nature of an honest and advanced society." Imperious sniffs, making his own stance known. " The might of culture is only freed with freedom; as Ladislas the Greater said,' The whole of the law shall be,' Do whatever the hell you feel like, the city is on fire'!' Its a shame that mob did what it did to him, though, now that I mention it."

The topic having seemed to bore him, he asks what he feels is a more topical question than esoteric philosophy. " When the hideous hellbeasts -do- ambush us, how much do we want to put on the guise of 'not having any idea they're there'? That's one of the best parts of turning surprise around, in my oh so humble opinion; stealing the upper hand back from the underhanded underhanders."

[Beowulf DW]

"I don't know who this Ladislas the Greater was, but he had his head on straight. I don't need a bunch codes and oaths to do right by others. Sorry if that causes problems, Oro and Cerran, but that's the way it is I'm afraid. I'll try to stay out of your way when the fighting starts, if you want."

[appending_doom]

"I'm quite certain I'm capable of keeping you out of the line of fire, as it were, if I start throwing around magic particularly damaging to creatures who have rejected the ways of order," Oro replies dryly.

[Oh My God]

" Now now, Knight Oro. Trying to recontextualize the narrative in your favour isn't sporting like; we haven't rejected anything, its order that rejects us! There isn't a place for free-spirits and spirited frees in its lattice to let us do as we please. And, it seems to please us to do so. As we please."

The Aruntar harrumphs, and smiles broadly. " But, more philosophy later, after the demon destroying. Squire Beans! Pre-demonic tea, if you please!"

[Beowulf DW]

"No time for tea, Imperious. Those demons won't kill themselves."

[Oh My God]

" Tea? Tea? Now that would be splendid, chappy, but there's no time! The demons won't kill themselves, don't you know? " Imperious chortles, and slaps his thigh. There's a moment of reflection, and then he adds...

" Excepting the Blood War. And scheming. And bizarre rituals. Besides those, though, they won't kill themselves!"

[appending_doom]

"I'm afraid I must agree with Imperious. Chaos contains the seeds of its own dissolution, doubly so if it contains the seeds of evil. Certainly, were we willing to wait long enough, the demons would destroy themselves, or grow bored with their current endeavor and depart. We are deliberately assaulting them only because we do not have the luxury of waiting." She nods to the madman, a half-smile on her lips.

[meemaas]

Ran

"Chaos is not necessarily self destructive on its own, it only seems that way to you Lawful types, similarly, those sided among the chaotic believe that Law sows the seeds of its own destruction, where order leads one to be predictable and utterly self destructive. I am neither, of course, not that it matters. Shall we set off?"

[Lexin]

"No reason to stay here and talk when we can slay some demons." Says Annabel with a shrug.

[Beowulf DW]

Aye. We can save the philosophy for when we all old masters with nothing better to do but sit around while throwing out cryptic advice to our students. Let's go."

With that, the young human sets off, intending to take the lead so as to take the first kill of the day.

[appending_doom]

Oro pauses, staying near to Cerran. It has become clear that she views the casting of her particular spell as a magical oath, and takes its precepts seriously. If possible, she would ensure her charge take no injury from those who dare approach him. She certainly would not willingly distance herself beyond the spell's range.

[Oh My God]

Imperious whistles a jaunty tune as they stroll merrily along. 'Squire Beans' seems less and less enthused by his newfound job as it becomes more clear that these maniacs (for, to the squire, they are all clearly insane) actually plan on entering a demon-infested wood on purpose. From time to time he can be heard muttering to himself," Ten gold pieces. Ten gold pieces."