Anauroch: Empire of Shade IC

[paradox26]

Recruitment thread link: https://forums.giantitp.com/showthre...-3-5-adventure

OOC thread link: https://forums.giantitp.com/showthre...4#post25821334

[paradox26]

The party gathers. Not all are known to each other, except perhaps by reputation. But you are all powerful enough to have been summonsed to the tower of Elminster Aumar himself, the Sage of Shadowdale. For whatever reason, you were gathered here. Some may have been travelling through the Dales, others may have been summoned by magic from far away.

But all of you are now gathered in his waiting room, looking around in disappointment at the humble surroundings. For such a powerful wizard, you would have expected much more fabulous decorations. Instead, it looks like nothing more than a quite nice commoner's cottage.

You find yourselves looking at each other, and you all try to decide who should talk first, to introduce yourselves to each other.

[Palanan]

“Slànaliessë,” Eryn says to the others, a politely neutral greeting in the elven-tongue. “—I was expecting him to be in the tower.”

Him being Elminster, of course—the reason they were all here, likely only the latest of many odd little bands he had summoned over the years—and the tower meaning the peculiar twisting tower rising up from a small keep not far away, which the locals called the Tower of Ashaba, at the base of the bare granite mass known as Old Skull.

This rather modest dwelling lay further around the wide curve of Old Skull’s base, and a master archer’s bowshot from the settlement of Shadowdale Village—for some reason not on the banks of the River Ashaba itself, but at the edge of a great wood draped across the gently rippling terrain to the immediate east.

That dense forest was only the tip of a far deeper wood extending two hundred miles and more further east, if maps could be trusted, within which the lost elven-court of legend had once reigned. Now—worse things dwelt there; and having seen the ruin of Tilverton on her journey through the Shadow Gap, she felt a whisper of a premonition, as if one of her mother’s foretellings had found its way to her.

[Nines]

"Su's eath'she Adoe, bren nielen alura."
Elven: "He's always late, it never changes."

The finely accented voice returns from the chair facing away from the entrance, towards the hearth. A solemn, brown wingchair of common leathers that has seen better days sits beside a dimly lit fire to quell the fall's morning chill. Upon it, a tall, fashionable, dark-haired gentleman of his mid forties has already doffed his cloak and has helped himself to the lone, sparse bookshelf in the proprietor's absence, barely looking up from his chosen tome as he speaks. At first the work seems to hold his attention, but before long he is idly flipping through the pages, looking for anything that might pique his interest.

After a brief silence he finally gives up on the book, setting it down on the side table and placing his hand to a mug of tea beside it. He relaxes back into his seat, strangely comfortable in another's home, before looking up to meet your gaze with emerald eyes and addressing you directly for the first time, overtop the beverage.

"Desha, jen vian sehan?"
Elven: "So, how was your journey?"

[rax]

"Well, summoning us there would have been presumptuous of him, considering the tower is cousin Mourngrym's home," Aubryn replies to Eryn with a chuckle.

"Have we met before? I thought I knew most of the regulars here in Shadowdale, but then it has been a few years since I last visited. I am Sir Aubryn Amcathra, knight of Cormyr and humble servant of the Lords of Waterdeep. A pleasure to meet you, Miss...?" he continues, offering Eryn his hand in greeting.

"And you, sir? I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance before either?" he says to the man in the chair.

[BelGareth]

Adama was contemplating the purpose of a mountain when he got the call, his thoughts on the roots, and heart of the thing a curious blend of anthropomorphism and weave enhanced logic which threatened to sway one way or another as he tried to peel back the mysteries of the universe.

And it was all interrupted with the most polite *ping* noise, Adama first ignored it for the better part of several hours, but there was a spiritual element to the summons, and he instantly knew who sent it, which made it almost impossible to ignore. Almost, he tried his best, but after a few days, his concetration abated and he allowed himself to look. A small ethereal pangolin looked up from the ground at him, it's outline was that of a ghost, it's form ethereal and flickering, as if it were not real, and it wanted to go back to whence it came. Smiling he nodded to the little creature "Yes?"

The little messenger bobbed at the recognition, like a little bow, and then spoke "Your attendance is requested in the dale for an important matter" it said simply, nodding it's little head like a humble servant not sure of the exact social interaction for this occasion so it just kept bowing.

Adama frowned, trying to recall the last time such a summons had happened but shook his head, better to leave such notions to those who cared for vainglory, he was summoned, and so his study upon the countenance of the mountain will have to wait until such time as he could return.

Nodding to the little messenger he replied in kind "Tell him I will be present", the little messenger bowed one last time before fading into the ethereum like blue smoke in the wind.

~

Adama stepped out of the portal to just outside the dale, a favor from a friend owed, he didn't mind the expenditure of such a thing, if He was asking for his assistance, then it felt like an even trade.

Walking the short distance, he saw he was expected and was ushered to the waiting room where others had already gathered, he bowed low to everyone with a humble greeting referring to the questions that hung in the air "Like the lotus emerging from muddy waters, enlightenment reveals the hidden depths within. Beyond the veil of appearances, there exists a realm of profound wisdom and eternal truth. Peel away the layers of illusion, and you shall witness a world unseen, where the essence of existence is unveiled, and the mysteries of the universe are whispered in sacred silence."

"I am Adama, of the East sun, Ancestor to Ciraxis the Great ice dragon, it is a pleasure to meet you all, though what for we shall see."

[Palanan]

“So you’re the charmer,” Eryn allows an almost-smile to Sir Aubryn, allows her hand to be briefly taken. “Erynessë.” She remains in an easy slouch in the chair, worn boots casually crossed.

She is the shortest of all the group apart from the dwarf, slight and lean beneath the dusty-green of her traveling clothes. Brown hair, gathered in a brief braid at the back of her neck; a hint of a freckle or two; and oddly hued eyes like liquid amber—not the usual shade of ordinary eyes, but with an almost luminous translucence, like amber in morning sunlight.

“And you’re—” she glances longer at the philosophical latecomer— “ancestor to an ice dragon? That would be quite a feat.”

[Goby]

Weary from a long journey across the south of the great desert, through the Stonehands, and along the road into the Dalelands, an attractive dwarven female finds herself taking rest in the Old Skull Inn in Shadowdale. Thirsty for a drink or several but still focused on why she journeyed so far from home , she strikes up a conversation with the barkeep, asking about local adventuring groups. She wanders briefly between a few different groups in the bar, before settling at a corner table with a local musician, who looks up in surprise as the dwarf takes a seat.

“That table said ye might know something about those seeking to learn about the rumors of strange things in the desert?”, she says without any greeting. “I’ve travelled a long way, guided by the inspiration of the Luckmaiden, to find others willing to investigate.”

After a brief discussion, the bard wearing a silver crescent moon pin that the dwarf fails to notice hands her a letter and describes the location of a nearby tower on the western side of town.

After a few more drinks and night’s rest, the next day she heads to this tower, instructed to meet some local wizard who seems to be important in this area. Entering the tower, she finds an eclectic mix of characters, apparently introducing themselves.

“I seem ta have found the right place. Name’s Doria, I come from the north. Which one of ye is Elminster?”, she asks the group, then listens to their introductions.

She speaks quickly and briefly, not fully at ease in the strange room. Wearing a traveling hat over her long, braided auburn hair, her well made cloak doesn’t fully cover the spikes on her armor. Along with the large axe strapped at her hip, her appearance suggests that she’s more comfortable out in the wild.

[Nines]

His attention centers on the sound of the voice, turning from his tea after a brief pause to quietly clear his throat. "Hlandrar," the gentleman replies to the querying knight, "Ixtalan Hlandrar, though most people call me 'Professor' these days."

He stops for a moment, looking about the room, as if the pull of some distant memory had just returned to him and taken him away briefly, before continuing, "I thought I'd seen the last of these halls, but Tymora it would seem.. has other ideas."

Before the poised, silken timber of his voice drops, his gaze narrowing, and ending somewhat solemnly, "Let us hope that She is in good spirits... for all of our sakes."

[rax]

"Ah, a learned man, then. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor. May I ask what your field of study is?" Aubryn answers Ixtalan.

"And you sir, you have dragon blood? Then we have something in common," he says to Adama, flashing a fang-toothed smile at the mystic and wiggling a clawed hand in greeting.

"Welcome, Doria, I can say for certain that I am not Elminster. I can't speak for these others, though. The good mage does have a fondness for making a dramtatic entrance - he could be any one of them...or maybe even that comfy chair the professor is parked in!" Aubryn greets the dwarf with a laugh.

[BelGareth]

Adama looked at the woman with a quizzical look, and then a look of realization came over him, his face visibly changed, and another person seemingly came from underneath and took over, he looked back at the woman with a warm smile. "My apologies...Erynessë? I forgot I was channeling an ancestor, they can get....unruly at the best of times" he says with a sardonic smile.

He turns to the newcomer and appraises them up and down, he nods to the 'Professor' and regards the Aubryn with a raised eyebrow "For whom is your sire?" he asks in all earnest. You can tell he wants to do something, but in the mixed company, and in a powerful wizards vicinity, he thought better of it.

[paradox26]

A door in the wall opens by itself. The door is well oiled and it takes a moment before the movement becomes obvious to you. The door is lower than most, forcing you to duck uncomfortably to enter. Just what you would expect of the mischievous Old Sage of Shadowdale.

You all carefully pass through the doorway, breaking off your conversations, and find yourselves in a better decorated, but still reasonably humble, room. A meershaum pipe hangs in midair in the corner of the room, smoking gently. When everyone is in the room, a man appears at the end of the pipe. He is an elderly, grey bearded man, still hale and hearty, but the weight of the years has started to hang more heavily upon him than you suspect had previously been the case.

"Greetings, my young friends. I do not know all of you personally. Or, rather, you do not all know me personally," the distinction is noticeable, and makes you all pause to think, then he continues, "I have need of assistance, and most of my usual factors are either unavailable, or else they are not powerful enough to face the beings I suspect of being behind the problems we are now facing."

"I would normally dissemble, but time is short. I suspect that the shades of Anauroch are meddling in Myth Drannor. I need you to go to the Windsong Tower in the city and see what they might be doing there. Then follow any threads you might uncover and deal with them. I cannot go personally because I am too closely watched. If I appear there, my enemies will take the opportunity to strike, and a battle such as that could destroy Myth Drannor, he says. "I can transport you to the edge of Myth Drannor, but magic there can still be a little unstable, so it is not a good idea to send you further into the city."

He puts his pipe in his mouth, claps his hands together, and looks at you all. "So. Ready to go, or do you have questions to which I do not have answers?" he asks.

[Goby]

"Wizards, always showing off..." she thinks as the mage appears behind his pipe.

After listening to his explanation, having journeyed such a long way she was hoping to hear more, but who knows the ways of wizards?

"What's a shade of Anauroch? I've heard rumors of some powerful forces in the desert, but I know not of these shades."

[Nines]

Ixtalan paused to get up from his seat, adjusting his garments assiduously for mobility, and retrieving his cloak over his arm from the back of the chair, before walking cordially astride Aubryn, answering, "I teach, actually. Advanced Magical Survival, out of Our Lady's College in Silverymoon.", and adding briskly before departing at the door, "Which, I fear, may be the order of the day before we're through". The professor was the last to enter, ducking under the doorframe made difficult by his considerable height.
*****

"Hello again, old friend.", Ixtalan addressed the piping minstrel. It was a warm greeting of long years, despite the external circumstances cloying at them, under which it took place. "You do not look two cycles hence, since last our parting. Our Lady's grace is surely upon you." It was a fine pleasantry, but Ixtalan's demurs to politeness ended shortly thereafter, his face becoming dour as he continued.

"This is a nasty business that you've asked of me," Ixtalan spoke with a familiarity of the subject matter untold in Elminster's words, as if he had heard something else entirely. "You know full well how I feel about putting boots on the ground for this. Mine in particular." Ixtalan broke off, annoyed at the tolerant silence of a longtime friend, as he made his peace known. "I'm retired, remember?" He said shortly, trying to get a response, and failing. "I've spent a decade.. washing the blood off that name." He said, switching tact and referring to something else, "..and you would ask me to sully it again."

*Sigh* "Perhaps Arunsun was right when he approached me..." He said, pacing now, and more to the air than anyone else, audibly airing his exasperation. "But my loyalties have always been to the Silverhand," He quickly countered his own thought, adding a slicing hand motion and turning sharply on his heel. "I could not change that, even had I wanted to. We've been through too much... lost too many..." he said, facing away from the seated mage, and his expression falling dark at the mention of the departed. His grievances exhausted, Ixtalan went silent, left only with the memories of past griefs to sober him.

After a moment, he visibly composed himself, his resolve once more upon him like a mantle, in a way only a proper gentleman could, before turning to meet the Sage's patient gaze. "Very well. I will get them in and out...alive. I can't promise you more than that, but..." after a significant pause, as if it was a decision that could not be undone, and harkening with the finality of a man uttering an oath, concluding,

"..I shall do no less."

[rax]

To Adama
"My sire? Oh no, to my knowledge I am not directly descended from any dragon. Or perhaps there was some drop of dragon blood in me already, but mine was more of a metaphysical transformation. I was a man, and now I am a manly dragon!" Aubryn laughs.

To Elminster
"These shades are nothing but trouble. If not for their plots, Tilverton would still be a thriving town instead of a crater! I, for one, will stop them if I can," Aubryn says angrily.

"However, I know little of Myth Drannor or this Windsong Tower. What can we expect to find there?" he asks Elminster.

[paradox26]

Elminster takes a few puffs of his pipe, then says, "I apologise. Shades are creatures of a city long thought lost. They were part of the EMpire of Netheril long ago, before the desert Anauroch came into being. They became deeply tied to the Plane of Shadow, and ended up there before the end of the Empire. They recently returned, and their floating city flies once more over Faerun. They are beings granted certain powers in any conditions short of direct daylight. They are powerful, with many skilled spellcasters in particular amongst their number."

He turns to Ixtalan and says, "Master Lune, I appreciate the assistance you can offer. Your skills will be greatly useful, though I fear magic may not be the most reliable ally in this quest. Be aware that you may need to come up with flexible solutions to your issues, all of you. The Netherese Empire failed because of the failure of magic. That was caused by an Archmage named Karsus challenging the Gods, but magic was failing for some in the EMpire even before then. It is possible it may happen again."

"Windsong Tower was a school of magic within Myth Drannor. The tower consists of a central tower, with structures in the boughs of a massive oak, structures in the boughs of the Shadowsong Tree, and extra-dimensional spaces. Entry to the school is mainly by portal using a special ring, a Windsong Towerkin ring, that serves as a special portal key. I have one here for you to take, so you can enter the Tower. You will have to enter the Tower by going to Myth Drannor, then find a portal. Once you get there the portals will be activated by the ring and you can get inside. A Towerkin Ring will divert any portal within five miles of the Tower to bring you to the Tower instead. As for what you might find within the Tower, well, it is a mage's tower. It could contain virtually anything, and the more outlandish it is, the more likely it is to be there." He then hands each of you a thin, elaborately carved, ring made of gold and made to look like ivy leaves.

[rax]

"Thank you for the summary, Lord Elminster. I have heard that the elves are reclaiming Myth Drannor, but I take it that the tower is not known to be in use by any beings friendly to our cause?" Aubryn adds.

[Palanan]

For some moments Eryn listens quietly to the others—listens to the oddly rambling "teacher," and the cryptic comments from Sir Charmer.

But Eryn’s concerns are more practical, and finally she speaks up. “Do you have a map of Myth Drannor? And something on this Windsong/Shadowsong tree? I’m not quite clear what that is exactly, or how the school is different from the tower, or whether the tower is the same as the tree.

“Or...what precisely we should be doing there. Is it too soon to ask for an actual plan? I usually work with teams I know, and those teams come up with plans. —Or are we still at the planning-to-plan stage?”

.

[rax]

"As I understand the situation, Lord Elminster suspects that shades have infiltrated Windsong Tower and are using at as a base for some sort of mischief in Myth Drannor. Our mission is therefore to enter the tower, gather intelligence, and put a stop to their plans if possible," Aubryn relays his understanding of the mission to Eryn.

"As for planning, I'd say we're in the midst of doing just that," he chuckles. "As you say, a map of some sort would certainly be helpful, but I suspect from Lord Elminster's summary that we're going to have to go in blind. Or am I fortunate enough to be mistaken on that count?" he asks Elminster.

[Palanan]

Eryn gives a brief glance of appreciation to Sir Charmer for his concise summary.

—Then, to Elminster: “How long do we have? Because if we have the time, we should find an archive or a library with the layout of Myth Drannor. Otherwise we really are going in blind, and we might find ourselves trapped before we ever see this tree.”

She paused, glances around the small company. “Before we go any further here—are we all committed? I’m used to working with people I know and trust. He—” a nod to Elminster— “may know some of us, but I don’t know any of you. I’d like to hear that we’re all willing to do this—and if so, what each of us brings to this particular cattle raid.”

.

[BelGareth]

Adama listens carefully as Elminster of all people was briefing them for their mission, his own questions were echoed in timely fashion by the others present, and he was comfortable letting them be the voice of them.

He raised an eyebrow at the...emotional outburst of the Professor, it seemed a long winded way to say yes to Adama, but he knew some people needed to say an awful lot to say a little, if not a little showboating to everyone present, yes, we get it, you are friends with Elminster. Humility was not apparently in this ones vocabulary.

How ironic.

Turning to Auburn, he nodded "Just as Impressive in my opinion, you have broken from your mortally shackled shell, and become something new, something better"

Listening again to the back and forth, he nods at the wise words of Aubryn, and then turns to listen to Erynessë.

"In the contemplative stillness of this moment, let us not hasten to assumptions, but rather embrace the wisdom of patience and discernment. As we heed the call of Lord Elminster, let us acknowledge the significance of time's subtle dance. Trusting that our needs shall be met, and the ring bestowed upon us, we shall proceed with serene deliberation, for the path unfolds gracefully in the embrace of the present." He finishes with a raised eyebrow towards the great mage.

[Palanan]

As Adama orates about patience and stillness, Eryn allows the briefest release of breath, eyes widening ever so slightly at the prose on time and dancing, then closing at the mention of the path unfolding.

Another brief sigh; then she angles her head slightly to look up at the much taller Elminster, and waits for the others to declare themselves.

[Nines]

Ixtalan was silent while the group queried Elminster and deliberated amongst themselves. His return to the field of play had not been an easy one, as he suspected, but he would have to press on, there was too much at stake. If what he had heard in Berdusk was accurate, then there was little time to delay.

"I will take care of entry and reconnaissance," He finally interjected. "There are no need for maps." Ixtalan said flatly. "I am accustomed to operating alone or in small number behind enemy lines, for extended periods of rescue or retrieval. Maps are luxuries, to be sure, but far from necessary." He further explained, while exhibiting the stiff air of a soldier, previously unseen in his carefully poised demeanor.

So it begins, he thought, time to take the gloves off, then. Ixtalan softly snapped the fingers of his left hand at his side, and the small room was briefly filled with the low, slinking sounds of metal links and the stretching hiss of fast-tying leather. Where once was the dapper, bespoke-garbed professor, fit for a night on the town, now stood the same man garbed in white metal pauldrons, blue-tinted chainmail, and brownskin leather armguards and breeches, much more akin to that of a borderland ranger from some far-off locale, perhaps the northern regions.

At the sound of the commotion, a deft, black corvid ejects itself from the seemingly flush saddle pocket astride his hip, before flapping it's way up to Ixtalan's shoulder to perch there. The glint of something shiny in it's beak catches the light, as the creature drops the object into the armored instructor's waiting hand. Crossing his breast with his newly gauntleted left hand to place it on the side of honor, he dons a small, circular pin bearing a silver crescent moon and harp upon a royal blue field. "This is Allan. He will be joining us." Ixtalan said perfunctorily, slightly nodding to the bird as he finishes affixing it. "Codename is Lune by the way, address me as such in earshot of anyone outside our number." He said, making eye contact with each in turn to attain their attention, in a manner reminiscent of a field officer.

Once he had passably assembled the floor, he began to explain, "I work with a group of like-minded individuals, who have extensive experience in these sorts of covert matters." Ixtalan divulged briefly, before continuing, "You see, 'Hlandrar' will also be staying here in Shadowdale, to enjoy the wine country for his fall sabbatical. My contact Elinor is watching over the simulacra in town from afar as we speak." Before adding as an aside, "That's a favor I will surely have to repay, but we couldn't take the chance that my absence would alert the Shadovar to our interests here."

"Apologies for the cloak and dagger," He added genuinely, "but it was a necessary ruse for my return to the fold, and to be sure of your identities." Ixtalan added, preparing to relay the mentionable parts of his debriefing. "Those of the Netherese are a voyeuristic lot, and the prying eyes of the Shades are multitude." He forewarned, adding, "Something as innocuous as a name can hold power, either for or against them." he explained, adding a hand for emphasis. "Just as I have no doubt Elminster picked each of you, in no small part because you are not on any of the Princes' magical watchlists." he said, looking around the room, before ending, "If we're lucky, and exercise a certain amount of finesse, they won't know what hit them." Ixtalan concluded to the gathered, before nodding to El.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Action summary:
Ixtalan:
Swift: expend Swift Ready *FoW p.117;
Don: sanctified elven chain of Lliira,
Don: ward cestus (2)
Move: equip Harper pin

Allan (raven familiar):
Move: retrieve item (Harper pin)
Move: grant item (Harper pin); Ixtalan

[rax]

Aubryn starts a little as Ixtalan undergoes his transformation, but as he reveals himself to be a Harper, he first begins to chuckle, then roars with mirth before finally pulling himself together and giving the man a slow clap.

"A Harper! Of course you are, my good man! The dramatic reveal alone gives it away, though I must say you missed a trick or two. No stirring musical accompaniment, no flash or smoke, not even a twirl of the cloak to properly impress your cleverness upon us! You'll have to work on that, I think!" Aubryn notes with a wicked grin. "I do like the code name, though. Loon - how very appropriate!"

"Now, regarding the question of maps, I am happy for you that you feel such things are unnecessary luxuries, but I do not recall asking your opinion on the matter. You may well feel supremely comfortable in sneaking about wizards' towers uninvited, but the more one knows of the layout of the battlefield beforehand, the less time will be needed to scout the terrain on site. Now, there either is a map or there isn't, and if there is, I see no wordly reason why we should refuse to bring it and use it until such a time as circumstances prove that it is more of a hindrance than an aid."

With that, he reiterates his question to Elminster. "Well, which is it Lord Elminster? Do you know of a map of Windsong Tower and where we might find it or not?"

Turning to Eryn, Aubryn continues. "Miss Eryn, you asked if we are all committed. For my part, I was committed the moment I left Suzail, and since I trust the people who asked me to come and both they and I trust Lord Elminster's judgement, I am certain we all bring valuable and necessary skills to the table."

"As I said before, I am a knight of Cormyr, but my home is Waterdeep and there I have the honour of serving with the Gray Hands, so I too am used to working as part of a team. The Gray Hands are dispatched only when the City Watch or the City Guard cannot handle a threat to the city. Though I am well versed in mounted combat, there is little call for such within the city limits, so in the Gray Hands it is my honour to hold the enemy at bay and strike them down through force of arms."

"The magic I bear upon my person aids in this - I am hard to dislodge and neither darkness nor invisibility suffice for an enemy to hide from me. If they take to the air, I will pursue them. If they are incorporeal, my blows will simply strike them all the harder. In the Gray Hands, our mages will often support me with their magic as well as striking directly at the enemy. For example, we have found that a haste spell does much to improve my combat prowess against tougher foes."

"I also have some spells of my own - apart from minor cantrips, I am able to make a person double in size, to react with alacrity to any threat, and to switch places with a friendly target through teleportation. Oh, and I can generate images of myself to make it harder for an enemy to strike at me directly, though that spell is more difficult for me to cast while in armour."

"Does that satisfy your curiosity as to my capabilities?"

[Palanan]

As the Professor takes center stage with his transformation, Eryn glances away in subdued annoyance at the showboating, examining the curiosities around the room while the performance goes on.

Once Sir Charming begins to speak, Eryn follows more closely; she suppresses a smile at Loon, and when he mentions the importance of maps, Eryn nods slightly in agreement, and again more slowly as he declares his degree of commitment.

“It does indeed,” she allows to his final question, “and we should catch up about that transposition spell later. —For now,” Eryn looks to the quietest member of their company, the northerner with the axe and spikes, and waits for her reply.

[Goby]

Doria remains silent as the others reveal more of themselves, listening to see if anyone has a plan for how to enter this strange magical tower. Studying the rings given by Elminster, she examines the elven craftsmanship with curiosity, though with little knowledge of magic, she’s unsure of how to use it to enter a portal.

She nods in agreement with Eryn’s suggestion of a map, and the logic of explaining people’s commitment. “A map would be a fine idea, I’ve only heard legends of the elven city, and know not of what’s there now.”

As ‘Lune’, or whatever his name is, finishes his big reveal, she shrugs. “This is what I get for dealing with humans, and foreign ones at that” she thinks to herself. But the Harper pin is something she respects, knowing some of the leaders of the Silver Marches to be a part of that group.

Pulling a hammer off her belt, she flips it in her hand, then looks down at her gear and smirks in feigned surprise as nothing changes in her appearance. “Seems I’m still what I am, just a warrior with a big axe and no plan but to hit ‘em with it. Dunno much about the magic stuff, that usually doesn’t bother me. I’ve come far from Citadel Adbar on the northwest of Anauroch, with orders from me king to find out what threat lurks in the desert. So I’m in for a good fight, and whatever challenge is at hand to stop these creatures from causing any trouble.

Hit ‘em hard and fast, that’s my way. I fights best when I’m angry, and sometimes I can yell at people and get them to do what I want. If that fails, then throwing ‘em thru a wall usually works. The Luckmaiden has seen me thru many a fight so far.”

She finishes, having said more than usual for her, and looks to see how the group reacts.

[paradox26]

Elminster replies, "The tower is the interior of a great tree. Elves prefer to build in trees where possible. The school is housed in the tower, or tree, if you prefer to call it that. As for a map, you won't need one. Just go to Myth Drannor, find the nearest portal, and it will take you to where you have to go. As for the interior of the Tower, no one ever seemed to think it necessary to make a map of the interior of a single building. You won't get lost, I am sure. It is, after all, a single tree. Though it does have extradimensional rooms, but they don't go anywhere except the Tower, so you won't get lost going into them. As for time, I fear there is not much of it. The shades will not be wasting time, and if you take time to find a map, they may strike before you are done, whatever their plans might be."

" As for capabilities, you were each selected to be part of this group to operate as a team. Your abilities are varied, and should mesh well with each other. But it is good that you tell each other of your abilities now, rather than in the middle of a battle," he adds.

[BelGareth]

Adama smiles at the group, he could tell this was going to be interesting, but had an inkling, that once things got tight, they would all rise to the occasion, as was implied by their summoner.

Nodding at the wisdom from the only person in the group who could shut them all up, he spoke up while bowing to Elminster "Wise words Master Wizard" he says simply "I am a Monk from a small unknown monastery in the Sunset mountains, I am capable in combat as most of my order are, I am also able to channel various aspects of my ancestors, allowing me certain abilities. I am a capable scout and can move as silent as any thief from Calimshan, I am able to conjure eldritch energy to blast our foes, the others make me more durable in combat, and I have yet to discover my eldest ancestor, he still evades my summons, but he is close."

[rax]

"Thank you, Lord Elminster, I appreciate the straight answer," Aubryn replies when Elminster confirms his earlier supposition that no map was available.

"Then I think we shall get along famously, Lady Doria. I shall be the anvil and you the hammer!" he chuckles at Doria's description of her fighting style.

[Palanan]

For her part, Eryn seems satisfied with Doria’s response; but her expression becomes quietly impassive when Elminster casually waves off the need for maps, scouting, or any other forward preparation.

Shakkin’ wizards, think magic can solve everything, no idea what to do if it can’t….

Instead of voicing that thought, she pauses while Adama and Aubryn speak; and as Sir Charmer is chuckling, Eryn has more questions for Elminster:

“So what exactly are these shades, in terms of their nature and what they can do? Meaning what can they do to us, how can they influence or harm us—and how can we counteract whatever it is that they do? And if we can’t counteract it, how can we recover from it?

“—And is there anyone with recent experience in Myth Drannor we can talk to? Anyone who’s just been there, just escaped or scouted, anyone with an understanding of the current disposition of these shades or other forces?

“And if not—how high above Myth Drannor have scouts been intercepted or attacked? Do we have any knowledge of how just how high is safe above this place?”