Iron Crisis (IC)

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: I don't think I'd be best to talk to Vyv. After Senna we get along worst. I suppose I'll speak to Senna. Better that than giving them each a set of padded gloves and letting them beat on each other. Caelee smiled a bit at the thought, then shook her head. No, as amusing as that would be for someone who had to watch their fights from the outside, it wouldn't help. Still, the image of Senna and Vyv with gap toothed smiles made her giggle. She stood up from the breakfast table with most of her "meal" left behind. Don't worry, Minsc. They'll make up before too long. I just hope I don't manage to make Senna more upset before that happens. She crosses the barroom and heads for their rooms in the back, taking a deep breath before knocking on Senna's door. Sen? It's Caelee. I wanted to make sure you were ok. Can I come in?

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 16 PIv: 12 PIs: 16 Conditions: - Concentration: - It's your room too. Come in if you want. You can hear her muffled voice. As you enter, you see a cleric thrown herself face-first onto the bed. Her scale mail tangled with the sheets, juxtaposing her weird position. It is like seeing a small girl inside the armor of a soldier, crying about teenage stuff. Senna sits up, her face red from anger and crying. I wish I had the eloquence of Sam, or at least the level-headedness of Melian. Why can't I stay cool like ... like a proper cleric? Why must I become so emotional? The gods cursed me with understanding people and their history, yet I do not understand them? Vyv said I don't get her at all. All I wanted her is to calm down and help Minsc. Yes, these dreams are scary, but there is nothing we can do about it. I was the head of some cathedral, and I executed people for voicing their concerns. But the control aspect, the security, it was just so enticing. Just like when we fought Silke. I controlled her thinking, her actions for a split second. And then we chopped her up like a pig. I know Vyvian is a good girl, but sometimes I feel like she is the least attached to ideals. She is always realistic, and when I ask her to do the thing that suits her ideals, she shouts at me being holier than her. Senna dries her tears with her scaled sleeve, a decidedly dumb mistake. Ow! The thing is, she is right. I DO think I am better than her. In fact, I am sanctioned by divine forces. And I want Deneir's morals to spread. We cannot succumb to...oh gods, I'm doing it again, I am preaching... Senna buries her face in her hands.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 25/25 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee sits on the edge of Senna's bed and begins straightening up her mussed up hair. Her hands are gentle as they lift, tug, and arrange the strands into some semblance of how Senna normally carries herself. If she kept it longer Caelee would be braiding it, but she makes due with tidying it up with reassuring fingers. If you were as eloquent as Sam, you wouldn't be Senna. You might also be as lazy or lackadaisical as Sam, and that wouldn't suit a Deneir cleric at all, would it? If you were as level-headed as Melian you wouldn't be as passionate and enthusiastic in what you do. You wouldn't be Senna. My little sister is studious like Melian, and friendly like Sam, and even dedicated like Vyvian. I'll tell you a secret, as well. She's pretty, like Caelee. But what makes her special is the things that make her unique. That passion I mentioned, your dedication to your craft and your god, and your eternally upbeat attitude, among dozens of other things. The druid smiles warmly as she says this, reaching into her pouch and removing a handful of seeds, which she began to carefully weave into Senna's hair. My dream was almost entirely positive. The worst part of it was I was alone. I somehow knew that the rest of the family was gone for good. I was old, but I had great power. Terrifying power. But I used it for good; to stop a threat that would have wiped out an entire forest. I didn't just make fire. I WAS fire. I consumed everything in my wake, and used destruction to stop destruction. When I'd burnt out, and I mean that literally and figuratively, the forest was gone, but it began to grow again from the ashes. My old, withered body... and druids live for a VERY long time before they show signs of age, let alone ELVEN druids... was eaten up in the fire and I was reborn as a baby. I was all powerful and immortal. It felt amazing, to be so capable of doing good. But as good as it felt, I hope it never comes to pass, because all of you were gone. I would rather never have that power if it meant keeping our family together, even if it meant I would eventually die. One by one, she began whispering in Druidic to the seeds, causing them to break open and blossom into beautiful flowers, which Caelee began weaving into Senna's locks. But as good as that dream was, I still remember my first dream and how terrible it was. We must always be aware that some outside force, with it's own agenda, is controlling these visions. Dandelions and mums and lillys, all miniature and adorable, were soon spread all through Senna's hair. Caelee sent another wave of magic into them, causing the stems to grow so it was easier to weave them in. It would be harder to get them out, too, but she didn't think her little sister would mind. Don't ever stop preaching, Senna. Isn't that part of your calling? To bear witness to the power, glory, and morals of your god? I've always admired that about clerics. It takes real bravery to share your beliefs with others in a world where it is so easy to be mediocre and mean spirited. Caelee's smile dimmed and her features grew more serious. But being chosen by your god doesn't make you better than anyone, just like being chosen by the forces of balance and nature don't make me better than anyone. Both you and I have standards that we hold ourselves to because of the source of our power, but we both know that there are others of our creed who do not live up to those expectations and still receive those powers. No, we are not better than anyone because we were chosen, but we should seek to better ourselves to justify WHY we were chosen. Removing a towel from her bag nearby, she used the corner to dab at Senna's cheeks and wipe away the tear stains. Vyv wasn't chosen by a god or a primordial force, or gifted with magic at all. I don't know about her relationship with any god for that matter. But what I do know that despite very difficult formative years, so difficult that she doesn't share them with us, she has become a generous, lighthearted, skilled young woman who would lay her life down to help those she cares about. And all that without being gifted with magic or chosen by a higher power, living only to the expectations that she puts on herself. I would say that is rather remarkable. The thing that has made us all into the good people we are today was Father. He laid the groundwork that allowed us to aspire to be better, that made us fertile ground for good and change in the world. But he also taught us to be humble, and that should not be forgotten. No matter how gifted, no matter how empowered, no matter how physically adept, we are but men a women of the world, just like everyone else, no matter what grandeur this dream giver promises us. She leaned down to come face to face with Senna, reaching down to help her up off the bed. Now let's go join the others again. We need to gather as much information as possible if we are going to help Minsc, and I think out of all of us you are the one that is best of coming up with the right questions to get the right answers. And I think Minsc needs all the help he can get in organizing a plan to help this woman he speaks of. She flashed her largest grin at Senna, the air now heavy with the scent of flowers.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 16 PIv: 12 PIs: 16 Conditions: - Concentration: - Caelee was right. And so smart, too. She was not pushing her agenda, but helping people who would accept their teachings. Vyvian would maybe never find her divine calling but that was okay. Senna was there to help guide their decisions, even if they were not fully aligned with Deneir's. But this does not mean she should avoid sharing her beliefs anymore. Without knowing the full picture, Senna wasn't going to approach Vyvian again. But until then, they should spring into action. With wet eyes and her face still red, but beaming with happiness, Senna leaves her room at the inn, joining the others. I have heard some evil gnolls need buttkicking? she jests? Is your armor still intact, Minsc? What about your shirt! Senna takes her chance and smashes her fist against Minsc's chest. Senna immediately regrets that decision.Maybe Melian can clean your shirt magically. It was decidedly disgusting, but the armor will chafe on your body otherwise.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 16 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "I've noticed it too, Sam. I wonder why they have such a hard time seeing eye to eye." Melian sighs sadly. "I'll talk to Vyvian, we get along well. Maybe you can get some information from our new friend? If his witch was taken two or three days ago we have to know exactly where to go and we need to go quickly otherwise..." she trails off, her unfinished thought quite obvious. Melian stands, gives Sam a pat on the shoulder and Caelyn a reassuring smile. Walking up to their room, she knocks politely on the doorjamb to signal her presence. "Hey Vyv," she says while entering and taking a seat on the bed near Vyvian and where she's packing. Fëanáro follows behind and hops on Vyvian's bed, then curls up on one of her shirts, obviously wanting attention. "Want to talk about what happened? You know I care about you both, right? I might not be Aintas but I am actually a good listener if I put my mind to it and stop jabbering about ancient arcane mysteries for a second." Melian's eyes show concern and betray just how much she cares for her sister, despite her attempt to make light of the situation.

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 16 HP: 32/32 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian rolls her eyes at Fëanáro and swiftly lifts up the shirt and flaps it up and down, sending the familiar into a chaotic flight before it can readjust. Not turning to face Melian and just continue with her packing she replies, "The entire point was that I didn't want to talk. I wanted you guys to actually take me seriously and think it over like I asked. And of course none of you did. Because you and Senna and Caelyn were good at studying stuff in your own ways and I was never good at that, you all think I'm not smart. Like somehow the entire world fit into the books you read, the plants and animals, and sermons and prayer scrolls, so I can't have thoughts that have value too. And normally, I wouldn't care. I don't want to be the serious one anyway. But everyone is so dramatic and angry lately that I can't have any fun because that'll just make everyone more angry and dramatic. So I can't be fun Vyvian, but nobody cares about my opinions as serious Vyvian." Vyvian pauses for a moment here, in part because she has to move to another part of the room to get something. "Then Senna comes charging after me. Even though whenever she storms off, we all respect her enough to give her space. But of course, she doesn't respect me. That was pretty clear when instead of even considering listening to me, she acted like she's some perfect beacon of goodness and meanwhile I needed to be persuaded to help someone who is in danger. Even though last time I checked, she was the one who screams for blood, tells anyone not living life according to her views that they're bad people, and hasn't actually lifted a finger to help anyone who hasn't come to her asking for it first this whole.... what are we calling this? Journey? Travel? Adventure? Flight for our lives? Exile from the only place we've ever felt safe?" she gives a big exaggerated shrug and a sigh and wipes a few tears from her eyes with her sleeve. "But somehow she's the good one, and I'm the selfish one? And she feels like that's an important thing she immediately had to establish to someone we just met. Because she can't stand the thought that her way of being a good person isn't the only way and that someone might not give her special attention for it." Vyvian shakes her head, and at this point finally actually looks at Melian, as she's also finished packing her things. (Though she'd actually also been taking the time to pack up Sam's and Melian's to give herself more to do.) And not quite looking Melian in the eye she shrugs and says in an extremely half-hearted joking way, "I guess that's what happens when a god deigns to reach down and tell a kid they're special. They wind up thinking other people aren't and that they're specialness is owed recognition by everyone they meet."

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 16 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Melian listens to Vyvian intently and lets her vent, never once saying a word until she was done. Then, standing, she wordlessly approaches Vyvian and embraces her in a tight hug. Melian gently runs her hand through Vyvian's hair then takes her sister's hands and sits down, motioning Vyvian to do the same. Still holding her sister's hands she turns them over and looks at them intently, particularly the calluses and small nicks and scratches. "I think we all sometimes forget you came to Candlekeep as an older child then we did. I know I do; so may of my memories involve you I forget you had a life in Baldur's Gate." She traces a thumb over a callus. "I hard life which the rest of us can only imagine. But your laughter is so easy and you're so infectiously upbeat we just forget. And I'm sorry about that." "But I look at these hands and I see good, honest, hardworking hands. Hands that will skillfully wield a blade to protect her family and just as deftly place a small treat in a child's pocket to brighten their day." She then lets go of Vyvian's hands. "And then I look at your heart - not as a wizard or using any spells," she quickly adds to allay any concerns. "But as your sister - as someone who's grown up with you and survived your best pranks - and I see the goodness there. A heart so big it dwarfs most people's, full of love and concern and courage. And this I guarantee we all see, including Senna." Melian then takes a breath to collect her thoughts. "We've all been having trouble adjusting Father's death, Vyv. I've been trying to work through it the best I can - through magic and study, but that's the only way I know how. Caelyn and Senna and Sam are all trying to deal with it as well. And we will butt heads as family does, and we will talk it out because we care for one another." Fëanáro, now recovered from his rude tossing to unplanned flight, jumps from a dresser and glides down easily next to Vyvian. It has obviously decided to ignore the previous slight in favor of comforting the young half-elf. It curls up, leaning against Vyvian. Melian smiles at her familiar before continuing. "Two more things that I'd like to say to you, Vyvian. First, I value your opinions and I'm sorry if I haven't made it clear. This dream business concerns me and I'm terrified at what can make it so that two elves will actually fall asleep and dream, let alone what it is we could all share that would cause us to experience these dreams together." She pauses for effect before continuing. "And second, if I ever hear you say we don't think you're smart I will track down Aintas and have him knock some sense into your head. You're one of the cleverest people I know."

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- "Thanks," Sam tells Melian and Caelyn as they go to talk to their sisters. Best to let sisters comfort sisters. Sam knows he'd never take things seriously enough. Left with Minsc (and Boo!), Sam looks at the two of them. "So uh, Minsc, right? They're not wrong, we should get you a shirt so once we find you some armor it doesn't chafe." He gets up and steps over to the door, motioning the large man to follow. "Let's go check out the shop. You can tell me about which direction you last saw your witch." Landing on the opened windowsill of the store, Grepha glances back at the shopboy. "And you have it tough as well, hm? Stuck in this dead end town. Why haven't you left?"

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 16 HP: 32/32 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian lightly struggles against the embrace, but doesn't put up any real resistance. Not for lack of appreciation of the gesture, just because she didn't feel very much like being touched at the moment. She doesn't really say much of anything as Melian talks, just a soft "mmm" or a nod here and there, or feel like she has much to say after. But she continues holding Melian's hands until she finishes speaking. And only then to give Fëanáro a little pat. She gives a shrug and a nod at Melian's last comment. Then after a few moments of silence she gets up and grabs her stuff and pushes Melian's own pack in her direct and then grabs Sam's to bring down to him. She then, slowly, leaves the room and makes sure she's coming behind her. Just as they're coming down the stairs she says, loud enough for everyone else to overhear, "And please don't be using your weird magic to look at my organs." Doing her best to keep a straight face and sound neutral and maybe slightly affronted.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 16 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Melian shoulders her pack and follows Vyvian down the stairs, trying to determine what effect, if any, her words had on her now silent sister. And then Vyvian takes her jab at Melian. Vyvian hears a sharp intake of breath as Melian begins to answer but then she pauses and chuckles. In a low voice, she says "If you ate better I wouldn't have to check if there's any meat attached to your bones."

[Amnestic]

"It will take more than a gnollspear to break Minsc, or Minsc's armour! A small hole will not stop us." He does seem a little bit more perturbed at the news that he smelled bad though, leaning close to the table where Boo is still chomping away on some hard bread. He whispers, though it's still easily audible, "Boo, did we smell? We did? How embarrassing for Minsc and Boo! What? Just Minsc?" He looks regretful and shakes his head as he pulls away, scooping the hamster up to sit on his shoulder once more while giving it a little scritch on its head. "New shirt then! Blood is hard to clean, I am speaking from experience. Fresh clothes for a fresh day." He stands, and follows Sam out the door. The drunkard is still asleep, though if you check him you will find he's still breathing softly, so he hasn't passed on.

The shopboy sniffs, not looking directly at Grepha, though he does seem to be more open to birdtalk than with the rest of the party. "Mum and Dad went off to the mines to 'help'. Can't go 'til they're back." He pauses, hands shaking and palms sweaty. Suppressed anxiety is leaking through his pores. "They're probably dead. I know. I know that. It's been two weeks and no one's said anything. But they could still come back, and I can't just go while there's that 'maybe'." He runs an aggressive hand through his hair, face contorting as the fingers rake at his scalp, pain to block out the other pain. "You're with the dragon guy right? And the weird boot-elf? If..." Teeth bite down into his lower lip. He's clearly not used to asking for things. "If you do go to the mines, could you look for them? They both wear matching silver necklaces with a Waukeen symbol. And my dad's missing a ring fing-"

He's cut off by the door being pushed heavily open by the topless rashemi. "Hello shopkeep! We require a shirt!" The youth scrunches his eyes shut and reopens them, clearly trying to gauge if he's seeing what he's seeing properly and isn't imagining it. It's only when Sam follows Minsc in that the greasy shopboy seems to accept it as proper, though given the sights he's seen since yesterday evening his grasp might be slipping. He points to a crate in the corner filled with clothes of all sorts, which the ranger begins digging through with gusto trying to find one that fits him. Regrettably, and not terribly surprisingly, he doesn't find one. Even the largest of shirts on leaves a good six inches of stomach on show, while stretching across his muscles leaving nothing to the imagination. He seems to give up on the shirts and instead retrieves a bolt of white cloth sits nearby, with the boy pointing him towards some needle and thread sat on a shelf. "We cannot pay you as I dropped my bag while running to town, but you have Minsc's word that once I have rescued my witch we will pay you. Is this good?" The boy looks confused for a moment, but just nods. It would seem he intends to make his own shirt in the inn.

With whomever follows him in tow - it's very easy to be caught up in his energetic, boisterous wake - he takes a seat once more and tugs a dagger from his boot, measuring cloth by hand and making quick cuts and stitches with practiced precision that may be unexpected for a man of his size and profession. It's clear that he's no amateur.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- At first, when Vyvian and Melian arrive downstairs, they find both Sam and their new friend missing. Grepha listens to the boy's explanation, with her usual detached passivity. Subtly, barely perceptible in black eyes against black feathers, she flinches a little. Before she can say anything snappy in response to the boy's request, Sam and Minsc arrive. "Hey ho, friendo," Sam greets the shopkeep, pausing in surprise when he sees Grepha there with him. "Oh! So that's where you got off to. I wondered if you ditched Vyvian somewhere." "Tch. As if. The thoughtless girl ditched me in this rundown shop." Minsc's fishing through the clothes is accompanied by Sam placing a couple of silvers into the coinbox on the counter. "It's alright, I've got it covered. That enough for the clothes?" he asks, walking over to the sill to lift Grepha back up to her usual spot on his shoulder. "What was she talking about before, anyways? Something about clothes?" "Yes. I'd hoped I might get something nice to wear..." she holds off on saying too much, in foreign company. "You know. To avoid being mistaken for game by hungry peasants, or what have you. Perhaps a cloth accessory or something." Following Minsc over to the pile of cloth, Sam takes up another and deposits another two silvers into the coin box. "I doubt they'll have anything your size, but we can try and make something ourselves, too." "... Very well." With a parting wave to the shopkeep, Sam strolls out after Minsc. Grepha looks back quietly, but mentions nothing. Following back into the tavern, he finds people have started to come back down. "Hey Vyv. Are you feeling better?" he asks, taking his seat again at Minsc's table. A bit of fabric is flung over his shoulder as well. "We went to get Minsc some clothes- and look at that, he's making is own!" He looks at the bird on his shoulder and then asks the ranger, "You think you could help make Grepha something later, on the road?" "I have a suggestion," Grepha states, as the conversation turns towards plans for tomorrow. "While the rest of you set out to exterminate this pack of gnolls, perhaps I should scout the Nashkel mines."

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 32/32 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelyn returns from the room to the common room and resumes her seat, watching Minsc deftly trim and measure cloth with interest.

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 16 HP: 32/32 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian just gives Sam a small frown in response. Though whether it's his question itself, the timing, or just the fact that he missed her joke and so once again on this journey her attempts at levity went unrewarded is anyone's guess. As she notices Caelyn and Senna inter the room she diverts away from that topic by asking teasingly, "Do we really have to rush to put a shirt on him?" and gives Minsc (mostly his muscles) an appreciative look over. "Me? Yeah I suppose I could try. Maybe the big guy could give me some.... hands on training." she continues with a smirk and devilish glint in her eye, at this point clearly just messing with her younger siblings. After a pause to let them react to that, she asks Grepha, "Can you and Sam even be that far apart? We're going to be traveling several days journey aren't we?"

[Amnestic]

The shopboy takes the silver offered by Sam and drops it into the coinbox on his desk with a quiet nod of thanks. He seems to have put aside any hopes of getting an answer from Grepha. Perhaps it's easier for him that way. Potential for hope is easier to cling to than the certainty of loss, after all.

Without diverting his eyes from the cloth that he's steadily working into a shirt before your eyes, Minsc says to Vyvian "I will be happy to help you train to get big and strong like Minsc. It will be a lot of work but anyone can do it!" Any double meaning is seemingly lost on the innocent tailor/ranger. It's a few more minutes before he finishes his work. It's neat, though not exactly work fit for a noble. For ten minutes with his meager supplies though it's good work. It's quite likely this isn't the first shirt he's had to make for himself, given his size. Certainly it's good enough to sell, if he ever wanted to change professions. It's even got a small pocket on the front for Boo to sit in, though presumably not when he's armoured.

Now comfortably clothed, he holds out a small ring of padded cloth to Grepha. If she was hoping for anything ornate she may come back disappointed, but the pseudo-scarf will fit neatly over her head and sit comfortably above the wings. There's even a small 'tail' on the ring with a small sewed-on 'G' for effect, though it's almost invisible since he only had white cloth and white thread to work with. It's...cute, even if it does clash a bit with her black feathers.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 16 PIv: 12 PIs: 16 Conditions: - Concentration: - Senna smirks at Vyvian. Never would've taken you for the fighter type, Vyv. Though I feel you would like to handle some big blade here. Senna picks up the armor in the meantime, placing it on the table. She then pulls two carved stones out of her bag, one with the celestial rune for life, one with the rune for death on it. Rather than channel energy through it however, Senna's spell magnetizes the armor, aligning its scales along the poles. The whole armor begins to glow a faint blue, as metal realigns all over the armor, slightly thinning and replacing the missing scales where the spear entered the shoulder. After a good minute, Senna holds up the big scale armor to Minsc. Good as new. Do us a favor, Minsc, and train Vyvian without armor and shirt. I am sure she appreciates the motivation from uh...I mean making it easier to hit on you...I mean hit you, and we dont want to destroy your new shirt. Senna blushes heavily. I uh....need to get some bandages for all of us. With a red head, Senna rushes out, unsure whether to bother the shopkeep or the churches' priests. Spoiler Show Casting Mending on Scale Armor, shopping for another Healing Kit for 5gp.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- "I mean, we could leave him shirtless," Sam muses, "But then we'd need some way to keep him warm at night. It can get cold, you know." He jests, playing along with Vyvian's innuendo and seeing how long until Minsc picks up on it. "Considering that empty-headed Garrick, I suppose the two of them share a type," Grepha comments, looking over at Senna and Vyvian. Minsc hands them the small band of white cloth and she looks it over. "Not... oh, very well. It's better than nothing." With her acceptance, Sam slips the small accessory onto her bird form. "And what do we say?" Ignoring the prompt to thank Minsc, she instead answers Vyvian's question, "We will lose the ability to communicate telepathically past a certain distance. But there should be no other issues. Should you have particular need of me, Samuel will be able to recall me to your location." Since she hadn't, Sam leans over and tells Minsc, "Thanks for the scarf, she likes it."

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 16 HP: 32/32 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- Vyvian is a little disappointed this hadn't sent them into furious blushing and discomfort, but joking about works too. "I meant I wanted him to show me how to sew... but yes, a sparring partner would be good to have too." She just raises an eyebrow questioningly at Senna's comment about her type, as one of her longer relationships was with on of the guards back in Candlekeep. "I would be happy to share a tent with him. How generous of you to put our new friends' needs first." she replies to Sam. "Telewhat?" Vyvian responds to Grepha, having no idea what that word she just used means.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 32/32 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee can't help but giggle as her family picks on Minsc. He made an easy enough mark, that was for sure. Still, she couldn't bring herself to join in on the fun. For one, it was just too easy. For two... well, the man WAS quite attractive. When she looked over him her thoughts wandered to the embrace he gave her earlier. It felt good to be held by a man like him, and it stirred feelings that she'd rarely felt before. Perhaps she would invest some time into getting to know the well-muscled man... at the very least maybe she would get another one of those strong hugs. She'd always been curious about the other sex, but no one at Candlekeep had attracted her eye besides some particularly awkward feelings towards Aintas. Well, adventures are the time for trying new things... she whispered under her breath.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- "Telepathy," Grepha repeats slowly, as if to a child. "Wordless communication through our minds." She makes a short, cawing laugh. "Not that your brother bothers with it often. Even when I was in his head, he often spoke to me aloud regardless." "Well if he's getting one of the tents, where am I gonna sleep?" Sam asks, in mock offense.

[Amnestic]

Minsc, now decked out in his armour, gives Sam a hearty pat on the back. "Do not worry friend. We are used to sleeping under the stars. But, Minsc does have a tent of his own. With his bag...which we will find!"

With the packs packed, the healing kit refreshed (the shopkeep did have it on hand, and took the money this time - medical supplies seem to be of worth to him) and magical boots wrapped around scaly toes, Minsc and Boo leads the party back across the bridge and west out of Nashkel. You can't quite tell if it's ranger or companion who's truly leading, with Minsc cradling his furball companion in one hand who seems to be guiding you. Regardless of the truth of the matter, the pair don't stray from the trail of blood and heavy bootprints that mark Minsc's hurried rush for help. At times, the obvious trail drops away heading off-road into grass and forestland and you're not sure if you (or Minsc) have lost it especially when you need to find alternate trails that suit Rosc Roche and the wagon. The pair also give correct advice on avoiding wandering beasts, showing you the trails they use and how to cross them safely while not interfering with their passage. He's in his element, even though he might not look like a ranger of the wilds at first, second, third, fourth or fifth glance.

True to Boo's advice, you do locate his pack (complete with tent as promised). It has been open and ransacked of food, but it's a small price to pay to have his things back, including three vials of antitoxin - two of which he hands off to the party while keeping the third for himself. On the trek he speaks as candidly and freely of himself and his witch as you might expect - how he hopes to show his quality on his dajemma by protecting his witch to earn himself a spot in the Ice Dragon berserker lodge, how they've been traveling for many years now, and how after his witch - Dynaheir - received a message she urged them to head to this corner of the Sword Coast, though she wouldn't explain quite why. He tells tales of his travels, battling Red Wizards of Thay, hepling Sembian children escape slavery, crossing the Sea of Fallen Stars. He's not got a way with words but he's happy to talk (when not hiding from wild beasts) and it's hard to deny that it does make the travel pass quicker. This is as far west as they've ever come so far, and there's a slight tinge of sadness that occasionally creeps into his story at the distance he has taken from home, but it's snuffed out as quickly as it comes. At one point he borrows a bow and some arrows and together you skewer a set of birds flying overhead for dinner in the evening.

Despite there being no clear trail for any of you to spot, you 'stumble' across his greatsword as the sun is setting. It's caked in dried blood and fat, the blade dulled, but it's no damage that an evening with some water, oil and a sharpening stone won't fix, and he spends most of your first evening 'together' doing just that, even agreeing to take the first watch. You're still at least a day or two away from where they were attacked, but with sword in hand Minsc feels much more confident about his performance in combat.

The night sky is clear once more, with the waning moon and its followers gently gliding across the star-filled sea above. Animals give you a clear berth, potentially offput by the fire that has been built for light and cooking. Warmth isn't an issue, even outside your tents and bedrolls - it's a pleasantly warm evening with just the coolest of breezes blowing off the stream if you desire it. The water is cool and clear, perfect for consumption or cleaning. An outcrop of trees gives you visual cover from the wider world and tentative hoots and other nocturnal birdsong fill the air with concern as to the new humanoid arrivals. There's no worn trail here, not by human feet anyway, you're truly off the beaten path at this point. Gentle breezes rustle the trees and any sleep is accompanied by the burbling of the stream washing over stones. Days of bright sun have left the ground dry, but proximity to the water source means it's not baked hard, and it's easily worked for pitching tents with healthy grass growth for Rosc Roche to nibble on. It might even be called relaxing. Enjoyable, at a stretch, even with the looming spectre of both the gnolls and the mines in the shadow of your minds.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- As the evening winds down, Sam draws his new deck of cards, shuffling and performing a few small tricks. No real magic, or real 'magic', just fiddling with them and flicking them between his fingers. The cool breeze off the stream gives him a bit of a chill, so he pulls a blanket around himself. "Anybody up for a hand of talis, poker, maybe caravan?" he offers. Spoiler: Grepha Show With the rest of the party setting out to aid Minsc on his errand, Grepha separates from the rest for now. South-east from the ragged little town as the crow flies, she sets out in search of the rumor-shrouded mines, cloaked in fiendish invisibility.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 32/32 PP: 15 PIv: 10 PIs: 15 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelyn unpacks her gear and sets up her tent quickly, then takes her bedroll and carries it over to set it next to Minsc. Do you mind me joining you for your watch? I don't sleep. Elf, you know? Ummmm... anyway... I wanted to get to know you better... She sits down on her bedroll, turning slightly to face the ranger, and watches him sharpen his sword. She is silent for a few minutes, just listening to the rhythmic scrape of the whetstone on steel, her cheeks growing progressively redder as she struggled for words. She wanted to say something interesting. Something funny. Something that would grab his attention. What she blurted out was That's a big sword you've got there. I don't think I could even lift it. She realized what she'd said and her face goes beet red. With a groan, she brings her palm up to her face, and has to force herself to stay and not run away. Sorry, I'm usually not this... I'm just kind of nervous... around new men... I mean people. This is followed by more silence as she does battle with her shame. Then she takes a deep breath and changes the topic. I think the relationship you have with Boo is... charming. I... used to have a rabbit. He was my best friend. But he was too big to keep in a pocket, and I felt bad carrying him in a bag all day. I let him go... his name was Tal Kess. It... hurt a lot. Like losing a member of my family. It makes me happy to see someone with a similar bond. Though your bond is probably even tighter than ours was. I've heard rangers can forge an even closer connection to an animal than druids like me. I'm kind of jealous, to be honest. She took a sip of water and wiped at her eyes, which had grown wet at the mention of Tal Kess. Now I'm trying to form new bonds... but I don't think it will ever be the same. She is quiet again, giving Minsc a chance to respond and for her to collect her own thoughts. When she does finally speak again, it is with a question. Tell me about the relationship between a witch and a... guardian? Is that what you would call yourself? I mean that question in general, as well as between you and Dynaheir.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 16 PIv: 12 PIs: 16 Conditions: - Concentration: - Senna spends the day researching her magical bells on the back of the wagon. She needed something objectively interesting to keep her mind occupied. Her sisters and her thirsting for this man was becoming rather embarassing to say the least, and she needed to show some restraint. It was decidedly easier to do when Minsc wore something, but she could not help and feel impressed by his wilderness skills. He was on par with Caelyn, which surprised her, being an elven druid and all. Her small world of magic, glyphs and runes seemt so pointless, but unlocking a large part of her magical reportoire was what will keep them alive in the days to come. She tried some sequences of ringing the bells. There was some kind of cosmic harmony, the same source where bards took their magic from, whether they knew or not. Deneir was the god of all writing, the master of the House of Knowledge, a divine plane where Deneir resided, but Oghma, god of all bards, ruled supreme. Their party lacked someone like that, but for some reason she felt drawn to Sam when they ended their travel for the day. Hey Sam, want to take a look at these? I asked Melian already, but someone with as much - let's say - raw willpower as a half-dragon can maybe unlock its secrets further. I have understood the smallest and the largest bell. But the others do not work, no matter how I swing them. I tried all I can think of. All I can assume is that we think too theoretically.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- "Sure Sen', let's take a look," Sam folds the cards back together into a deck and sets them in their case to keep them from getting wet on the ground. Picking up one of Senna's bells, he takes a look at it and flicks the side to see how it sounds. "What do the first and last ones do? Maybe it's like a riddle."

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 HP: 20/20 PP: 13 PIv: 16 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Sending Fëanáro to scout ahead, Melian brings up the rear of the group as they travel under Minsc's (or was it Boo's?) seemingly expert guidance. Thankfully due to her position in the back nobody can see her roll her eyes at her sisters' oh so subtle innuendos at the muscled ranger. Moreover, while she can't be sure, she thinks at least some of it is done simply at the expense of the poor oblivious man and it irks her that they would make fun of a man who moments before was laying at death's door. As the group makes camp, Melian volunteers for the second watch, feeling tired herself. She watches as the group breaks up, then shrugs and turns in for her trance, hoping for some respite against the dreams. Spoiler: OOC Show Spend another night studying Gorion's spellbook, trying to either decipher the first keyword or the next layer of defense.

[Amnestic]

Minsc listens to Caelyn speak, having given no objections to her sitting with him. He continues idly cleaning the blade as he listens to Caelyn, giving her the lion's share of his attention while Boo naps in his lap. His face is as emotive as you've come to expect from the man. Secrecy is likely beyond him. What you see is what you get, and it's not likely there's anything more complex than that. "We are sorry for your loss. Leaving a friend is not easy, even if for the right reasons."

"Friendship is different, but all are still friends. Tal Kess might be gone for now, but good always stands together! I am sure you will make new friends as good as Minsc and Boo are. And maybe you will find Tal Kess again one day? Family is never gone forever."

"It is a thing for those who wish to join the Berserker lodges to accompany a witch on their dajemma to prove themselves as worthy! There are many pairs, but no trios like us. Minsc and Boo are stalwart bodyguards for Dynaheir. Witches travel all over to learn how to help their sisters in Rashemen. Sometimes...sometimes she says things I do not understand, but Dynaheir has a heart as good as Boo's, she is never wrong and we are happy to stand with her as we help the side of justice." He finishes with that, giving a 'comprehensive' answer to to the question asked, and a complete non-answer to the question that wasn't asked out loud. The blade is now thoroughly clean at this point, gleaming in the moonlight as he begins the slow process of sharpening the heavy blade, though with as much metal as he's carrying it might work just as well as a blunt club when dulled.

Spoiler: Grepha

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Spoiler: Double spoiling this to prevent accidental clicks

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It's not hard for the invisible bird-devil to track the mines down. There's a main road leading southeast towards the mountains and the quarryhole that serves as the mine entrance is easily spotted from an aerial perspective.

Nature's bounty and beauty that the main party doesn't extend here - plantlife has been almost entirely cleared away for sheer rock, dust and dirt. There's a few wooden buildings surrounding the quarry, possibly warehouses or sleeping quarters for the miners. There's a handful of people milling around the top, judging from their clothes either miners or foremen. A gently declining slope, complete with cart tracks running its full length, encircles the quarry bottom where the majority of people in the area are.

There's still some miners and the occasional foreman, but the majority of people here look to be soldiers. Grepha can spy a few Flaming Fist insignias on their breastplates, though the majority of them are covered in dirt, blood or both. No one here is clean or healthy. Those standing guard at the mine entrance itself look to be on their last legs, barely able to stand. There's a number of wounded being treated in a makeshift triage area far from the mine entrance, but it's barely protected from the elements and you're fairly sure a number of those being treated are already dead. Dried blood cakes the ground around the mine entrance and there's a (currently extinguished) pyre nearby that stinks of cooked flesh. You think you can spy bone shards in the ashen remnants of the flames.

Most curious, perhaps, is the presence of a number of kobolds - thin, sickly looking things squinting painfully at the sunlight. They're not being treated as captives or enemies, from what you can tell. They seem to have the freedom to go where they wish and some are sat alongside miners and soldiers as if they were comrades. They lack armour, either being entirely naked or wearing scraps of cloth, and what weapons some are holding are cracked and broken if they're lucky.

An odd tension sits in the air, as if they're all waiting for the inevitable but don't know when it will arrive.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 32/32 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 9|14 PIv: 14|10 PIs: 10|13 Conditions: -- | -- Spoiler: Grepha Show Gliding down from on high, Grepha reappears from invisibility and alights upon one of the filthy wooden buildings, looking down with disdain at the sawdust - or maybe just dust dust - now coating her talon. The situation appears bleak here at the mines. But the general air of plight and desperation doesn't matter to her. Scanning the people passing by, or in triage, she looks for any sign of the silver Waukeen amulets described by the shop boy. Flapping over to land on the remains of the pyre, she thanks her raven body's carrion instincts for sparing her what is surely a disgusting stench as she likewise picks around for any sign that the foolish saps have been burned. Whether she has any luck or not, she hops down and creeps over to the kobolds. Filthy little vermin, but stupid, and perhaps malleable with the right technique. And less likely to make smart decisions, like warn the Flaming Fist intruding into Amn territory - another thing for her to be irate about - to investigate the unusual talking bird. "Come, come, little kobold. Do you speak?" Spoiler: Rolls Show Perception: (1d20+1)[21]

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 16 HP: 27/27 PP: 16 PIv: 12 PIs: 16 Conditions: - Concentration: - A riddle? Senna asks unsure about the reaction. So there are bells in descending size and probably pitches. The tiniest one just tingles slightly, but casts a sleep spell and a spell that conserves corpses, some kind of eternal sleep, while the sixth one is loud and booming and seeming enchants a person's mind, making it susceptible to suggestions, even paralyzing their audience. Their look is faded and tarnished, but as their power is partially of necromantic origin, I do not want to polish them for fear of accidentally triggering their magic or weakening their power. Also they have some kind of runes on them, which I cannot deceipher. She holds a rack of bells in front of Sam, tarnished silver with ornate designs and some kind of symbol on each bell. When you touch the bell, you feel the will of their prior owners, but there is no sentience, like in Grepha. Spoiler Show Bells of the Dead (requires attunement by a cleric) Fastened tightly inside this leather carrying case are seven bells, each of different sizes and tone. They're all made of what may have been clean silver at one point but is now uniformly tarnished, its sheen dulled. The handles are solid, thick oak. Around the rim of each bell is an ornate design whose meaning is lost on you. It doesn't appear to be a language, but it does have purpose. Attuning to the bells as a whole is a long process as they seem to have minor wills of their own - they're not intelligent, necessarily, it's more like they've inherited desires of their maker(s)

[Ramsus]

Vyvian Just Half-Elf Rogue AC: 16 HP: 32/32 PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 Conditions: -- As they traveled Vyvian spent most of her time alternating between amusing herself by flirting (or attempting to at least) with Minsc and actually trying to learn the things he was showing them about tracks and trails and hunting and so on. When evening came and she finished setting up her tent, she notices that in the moment her back was turned Caelyn just swooped in on Minsc. A bit annoyed at this, but being too late to do anything much about it she turned to hear Sam ask if anyone wanted to play a game. And just as she was about to reply with a yes, Senna swoops in and steals that bit of fun from her too. She looks over to Melian, who is predictably face first in a book. With a frustrated sigh Vyvian announces to the group in general, "I'll take last watch." and goes to bed.