Njord Bjornson |
Does someone with an IH wand care to put a poor bar back together?
Njord Bjornson |
Yeah but I thought we got a replacement wand at some point. Apparently not. To the elf cleric!
DM Oladon |
The elven cleric whistles when she sees the battered group, but nods and extends her aid to heal their wounds. Where to?
Randall Quickstep |
Randall resists the urge to hug her knee in gratitude. "Thank you so much!"
Do we return to the jerk that set us up with the demon fight?
Does she heal us to full?
Njord Bjornson |
Good news, we killed all the demons ever. Will you vouch for us now?
DM Oladon |
Yep, she heals you to full.
Gathering up a few of the demonic spears as the proof that Arlindil required, the group returns to the elf's room. This time he answers after only a few knocks, opening the door and surveying the group silently as before. His eyes rove across their blood-stained gear, pausing to rest on the demonic emblems. Finally he nods, opening the door more widely with a flick of his head toward a few chairs inside.
Jametor Darksbane |
Jametor mutters to himself on the way to see Arlindil, "Elves...some of us live too long to understand things...long view..bleh. Demons at your door and you bicker and fuss." He nods curtly when Arlindil lets them in.
Jametor waits until the group is seated and their host turns his attention to them. "We've killed a few demons for you. What we need is your support for a meeting. We must stop the drow...although their mention earlier seemed to upset you. Facts are facts, they are plotting something very bad."
Asht'el |
Ye gods, what a jerk! Asht'el thinks quite fiercely as he moves past Arlindil and into the chamber. He sits quietly as Jametor explains the situation - again - and looks expectantly at Arlindil to see how he'll respond.
Randall Quickstep |
Randall slips into the room, but doesn't sit down. He openly and obviously studies the room itself, standing next to one of the chairs.
Perception: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (4) + 20 = 24
Xiddik |
"The room above is cleared, for now," Xiddik says, keeping any trace of sourness out of her voice even as within her mind is filled with bitter thoughts of her own near-death up there. "But you have bigger problems than a few feathered penance. Arlindil, I know you serve the forests. This one may be lost for good, but there are hundreds of forests like it in this world. There is so much green up here, Arlindil, more than anyone who's grown up around it ever sees. I come from the Dark Down Under. When darkness rules, the green withers, grays, dies. Our trees are ropers and shrieker fungi. We have no green to light us in the darkness.
"Darkness is coming back. Coming up. Maybe we can't win, but if you truly believe in your forests, you should least have the courage to try. The drow have robbed you of this green. I know that hurt—they rob me of much, too." The bitterness starts to seep into Xiddik's words, though it's hard to tell if it's intentional or not. Her face is totally expressionless, which is uncommon for the kobold when she's trying to persuade someone. "I fought them for years and years since. Have fought them. Still fight them. I'll keep fighting them until they catch me, and then I'll die knowing...I had that. Knowing I fought. That's better than wallowing and grieving and dying—better than having nothing. Now, 's you going to come to this meeting and help us?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (3) + 23 = 26 If this fails, I will use Gallant Inspiration to add 2d4 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6 to the roll.
Randall Quickstep |
Diplomacy aid for Xiddik: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Randall listens to the kobold's impassioned speech without obviously doing so, as he looks around the room. When she finishes, he looks at the elf, "It looks like much has been lost here. Friends, colleagues, the structure of this fortress itself. And it looks like defenses are crumbling further. You and your colleagues are talented and powerful, that's why you were chosen. While you remain separate and alone, those talents, that power, is squandered. You must come together and make a decision how you will fight the coming darkness. Together, and with your influence on your people, you can stem the rising tide. If you remain here, alone, you will be washed away. You must stand and fight."
Well, that result was unexpected. +2 for Xiddik, though.
DM Oladon |
Randall, you looking for anything in particular?
Arlindil grunts in response to Jametor's statements, but Xiddik finds him a captive audience. Halfway through her discourse, the elf takes a seat and puts his head in his hands. When Randall finishes, the room is silent for nearly a minute. Finally Arlindil looks up and nods, new resolve on his face, though in his eyes the pain of many years can yet be seen. He opens his mouth thrice as if to speak, then nods again and offers, "I will come to your emergency meeting. Much I have lost... but I will come."
Randall Quickstep |
He is mostly being intentionally rude because he's angry at the man for setting them up, but he's also taking note of anything of interest.
Randall notes the elf's glance and recalls what was over there and the meaning dawns on him. He walks over to the elf and puts a hand on his knee.
"Thank you. It is the right thing."
Njord Bjornson |
Were-Njord could use a nap but how many more silly elfs do we need to convince?
DM Oladon |
You've convinced Perelir and Arlindil. There are two more council members (Hialin and Malindil).
Njord Bjornson |
Hopefully they don't need us to fight another legion of demons.
Randall Quickstep |
Hialin was described as a magician that uses his innate power to feed the Maleficious Spike (I hope that's close) and Malindil was close to the one that fled and became a drow. We don't know what talent he or she brought to the Council. I vote for the magician.
DM Oladon |
After inquiring of their guide (who warns them that Hialin does not take kindly to visitors), the group makes its way through the fortress toward Hialin's quarters. Arriving on the seventh floor of the northeast tower, the group finds what can only be an arcane workshop; a room filled with materials used for testing the properties of magic items and potions. The center of the room is dominated by a long table topped by a magnificent alchemist's laboratory.
A door leads south into Hialin's quarters proper.
Asht'el |
"Master Hialin," Asht'el calls out respectfully as he knocks on the door, his tone somehow managing to hide his impatience with these bloody elves and how hard it is to get them to a meeting, "my friends and I are hoping you'll join us for a meeting of the Council. The dark elves that dwell below mean to bring darkness and destruction on your world, and the Winter Council can play a key role in preventing it. A number of your colleagues have already pledged to attend. Can we expect you there as well, for the good of your people?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (13) + 20 = 33
I misread and thought we were already in his presence, so did some Diplomacy. Re-reading, I see I was talking to a door, so I edited a bit. I hope he can hear me...
DM Oladon |
Randall's greeting goes unanswered, but Asht'el's follow-up provokes a response. A tall, lean, black-haired elf appears from the other room, his dark brows set in a frown. "There aren't any dark elves," he replies shortly. "Whoever told you there are set you up."
He pauses, studying the group through solid lightning-blue eyes. "You're the ones Villastir failed to remove." A flat statement, with no hint of question. After a moment, Hialin shakes his head. "Go. I have work to do... for the good of my people."
Njord Bjornson |
Were-Njord growls and huffs as he studies the uncooperative elf.
Sensing Motives: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Asht'el |
"We have lived among the dark elves, disguised as their kind," Asht'el replies, his tone dismissive, "they are many, and as twisted and evil as you are blind and ignorant. No one had to tell me what I saw with my own eyes, nor was I 'set up' by anyone to believe the creatures we fought were real."
Probably best not to mention that I rescued one from their evil ways and brought him to the lands of light - or at least to a decent gambling hall.
Randall Quickstep |
"While you and the council hide here in these demon-infested woods, the dark elves have been moving forward with their plans to destroy the surface elves and anyone else that lives in the sunlight. We have seen for our own eyes the results of their efforts, and they cannot be ignored. You can pretend they don't exist right up until they cause another Starfall, but then it will be too late. We," he gestures at his friends, "we have won skirmishes, but to win the war will require the your people and their talents. We already know you have seen a dark elf for yourself. (Don't we?) She leads among those trying to destroy us all."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Xiddik |
"Please." Xiddik makes a wide gesture with both arms. "You are among the informed. You think a trueblood doesn't know what a drow is?"
DM Oladon |
Hialin's lip curls in a snarl at Asht'el's words. "Get out!" he growls. Turning to Randall and Xiddik, he smiles thinly and addresses himself to them, ignoring the Ifrit for the moment.
"Would that be so bad?" he asks the halfling. His straight face breaks a moment later into a chuckle. "Yes, yes, I've seen a dark elf. I have 'seen' many things. Seeing something and that something being real are often very different. In the study of the magicks of the world, one learns that there are many forms of trickery, and all of them are employed quite regularly."
He pauses a moment. "I am quite sorry to disappoint you. However, you were deceived, and I have work to do."
Jametor Darksbane |
DM Oladon |
Randall Quickstep |
Randall's expression darkens. "I'm sorry that my choice of words confuses you. I have seen dark elves. I have heard their hateful words, understood their hateful speech. I have felt their blades pierce my skin and felt my blades pierce theirs in return. I have tasted the foul air of their underground city and witnessed - sight, sound, and smell - the tortures they consider to be entertainment. There is no deception involved, only denial. Yours."
"Are you unconcerned about the fate of the world because you plan to abandon it as your ancestors did? (We know that, right, after our visit to the time-stopped pocket dimension?) Are you planning to take your kin with you, or let them die in the flames of a new Starfall?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
DM Oladon |
At the continued insults to his character and people, Hialin loses his patience. "Get out of here!" he roars. "Fools are bad enough, but insults and insinuations I will not abide! Get out!"
Asht'el |
"You think you have been deceived, that someone has caused you to see something that is not real," Asht'el says, doing his best to remain calm in the face of the elf's refusal to accept reality. "Who do you think is weaving such illusions, who has both the desire and the power to deceive someone like you? Why would anyone do such a thing? Rather than an elaborate tale of deception to explain your having seen a dark elf, isn't the simpler explanation that they are real?"
He runs a calming hand through his flame-tinged hair as he studies the irascible elf, then asks, "What would it take to convince you?"
DM Oladon |
The elf's right hand begins twitching, as if eager to call upon its magic. "Do not force me to remove you," he says quietly, his face showing that he is indeed prepared to do so. "Leave. NOW."
Jametor Darksbane |
Jametor strides to the elf and says, "I sense no deceit in you. I believe you truly believe what you've told us. But truly believe this, we have lived, as it was, in the dark places that only the drow flourish, the dark where even the kobold and other underground dwellers do not dare tread. We have killed them and nearly been killed ourselves.
I do not know how to speak with flowery speech that convinces others, perhaps I could weave a spell at some point that would give me this power, but today is not that day.
Today, this group fought demon upon demon, as a sport it seemed, to convince another of the Council. What will it take for you to be convinced? What will change your mind?
Shall I describe Celwynvian and it's vast library? How the orbs in the library work? Should I explain how not only the elf-gates work or that the drow are very interested in the ciphergates we found in Riddleport?"
He holds his staff up. "Should I tell you the story about how I came into possession of a special Staff of the Dark flame? Or what being or living in the Darklands can do to you? Who was this person that you thought was drow but wasn't?" Jametor asks finally.
DM Oladon |
Before Jametor gets even five words into his speech, the elf roars in anger and reaches for his pouch, preparing to cast a spell.
He's about to throw you guys out bodily. You can stay and fight him, or take the opportunity to leave while he's "about" to cast.
Njord Bjornson |
Were-Njord growls something in ursine and drags his friends outside.
Randall Quickstep |
As Njord drags the halfling out, confusion reigns, "Wait, he's not lying? He really doesn't know?"
Randall looks over his shoulder at the angry spellcaster, trying to decide whether he feels more frustration or pity.
To his friends, he says loud enough for the elf to hear, "Is it because he doesn't want to believe that's what she is now? Does it matter that much? People are planning to do the elves as a race harm - does it matter who they are?"
Jametor Darksbane |
Jametor rubs his temples. "You are correct Randall, but remember only a few of the drow realize that calling down another star may destroy even them. Some people are just blind to the truth when it doesn't fit their view. Should we try the next?"
Randall Quickstep |
"I think I will keep my mouth shut when we talk to the next member of the council. I didn't help much here."
He's very sad.
Next (last?) member of the council, I think.