Spirit of Pinvendor |
Combat is over for the time being. As most of you have chosen to hold action, there is no need to continue initiative at this time. As some of you are already aware, I plan to make a longer post summarizing things and advancing the game to the next scene. This will be forthcoming in the next few days. I appreciate your patience.
The Whistling Man |
The man on the stage laughs, a rich hearty sound.
"Do you still call me that?" He grins at the child. One of his eyes seems to gleam in the low light. "But why wouldn't I whistle? The sound of music...it can really inspire people to greatness!"
The Whistling Man bends down to pick up a piece of the now broken lyre and holds it out to the gathered would-be charter holders as if displaying proof of the power of music.
He looks down at Mouthpiece. "What have you done to that lovely lyre I gave you?" A tsk-tsk sound is heard from the shadowed figure.
The shadows which envelop him seem to drip off his shoulders now. Revealed, the Whistling Man appears as a rather unattractively lanky man with unnecessarily long features. It's almost as if someone had taken a short stubby person and then stretched them out in an effort to re-balance the proportions. The effect is a tad disconcerting, and it is with much relief those beholding him that only a few parts of him are visible from within his hooded cloak. His cloak, however, might be even more concerning.
The garment does not appear to be cloth. In fact, it seems to be merely darkness somehow folded into a shape the mind perceives as a cloak. The darkness feels much different than that of shadows or even deep places. It reminds any looking upon it of staring into the night sky...but without the moon and without the stars. While impossible to perceive anything in the blackness, one cannot help but feel the darkness is anything but empty.
In the Whistling Man's hand the piece of lyre seems to twist and contort. In fact, it almost seems to be growing...
"Ah!" he bursts out spying the scarred face woman in front of the stage. "Why if it isn't the Forgotten One! How are you doing, Corinne the Chroniker, Woman Out of Time? Still think you will be able to stop the inevitable?"
Corinne says nothing, but her lips are pressed together making her scarred face look very grim.
More to come. Feel free to post any RP reactions if you desire.
Also, everyone can have 1 RC. Kalica gets another 1 RC as well for her most recent excellent post.
Spirit of Pinvendor |
A shout from overhead is heard as the half-elf and his two gnome comrades suddenly return, their various flying magics dispelling.
"You!" Veliar erupts as he lands spying the distended and long man on stage. Veliar becomes quite pale, fear evident on his face. He holds his weapon out before him and moves up next to Corinne tossing her a nervous look. Pulosh and Dongle come up to wing from either side. They glance at one another around the giant teddy bear with uncertainty seeing their comrade's behavior.
"This...this is going to be like the last time I met you, isn't it?" he says to her, his voice sounding hoarse.
"No...not tonight...I won't let it," she whispers. She looks back at Arielle clutched in the arms of Bubbles. Her eyes appear sad.
Roswitha |
Roswitha, recognizing from the active magic near the stage that she is incredibly outclassed, moves quietly away from the stage to near where Blossom waits for her mistress. These folks all seem to know each other, which, to her mind, makes this none of her business.
This is the frontier. I expected rustic magic, not great wizardry. Perhaps this is where the puissant mages flee to be left alone, or to avoid the strictures of civilization.
Still, cat-curious, she waits nearby, listening intently. This is one for the diary. When I write my book, I'll be famous! If only I could spell.
The Whistling Man |
The Whistling Man's smile turns into a terrible leer...it's just too long, his face and mouth seeming to bend unnaturally, maddeningly.
"You won't let it? You won't let it? You won't let it? You won't let it? Youwontletit?" The words erupt from his mouth in a chaotic mess. He only says the phrase once, but somehow each way it could be said is said together...separately...all at once. It's terrifying and otherworldly. Something akin to the monster of each person's nightmares is in that phrase and it chomps at each listener's sanity.
His voice and tone escalate, the cadence wrong in all the most horrific ways.
"Is that what you believe, Corinne?! That these fools are the heroes!?! That they can prevent the young one's destiny?!?
Laughter booms from nowhere. It is not the Whistling Man. It comes from within the darkness that cloaks him. The nonexistence which coats his frame laughs.
"I have seen where this river flows as well, Chroniker. Your anomalous kind are not the only ones that can see time as it will be. She will fulfill her purpose and my master will correct the mistakes of creation itself! You know this to be true. your heroes will fail. It has been foretold. Just because you have chosen to include these innocents...they can change nothing!" The word "innocents" is not what he says, it is not what the oblivion inside him says, but it is all the mind can remember.
While he speaks, the shattered Lyre of Lunacy begins to regrow in his hands. The wooden shards filling in and curving into a beautiful polished shape while thick strings begin to stretch and reach for the struts on the opposite ends.
"To commemorate the victory of tonight, I think I'll play a little song!" The man/monster/darkness says with a smile too long/angled/intangible. "But first to set the note."
And the Whistling Man begins to whistle...
Everyone make a Will Save DC 50. If Arielle has physically touched your character in any way add +30 to your roll. If you have any kind of ear protection, add another +5.
Roswitha |
will: 1d20 + 2 + 30 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 2 + 30 + 5 = 40
Miyari |
Miyari covers her nose a moment at realizing why this man bothers her so much, baring her teeth with discomfort as her best sense is being assaulted by nothingness.
At the sound of the whistling, Miyari tries to fold back her ears, but it's too little too late and she hears the sound. So instead, she tries to concentrate on not hearing it. Your hearing is bad on the best of days, she says to herself, trying to reason with herself. So obviously... you don't hear this.
Will save: 1d20 + 30 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 30 + 1 = 50
Spirit of Pinvendor |
When she's standing before the catfolk woman, Corinne says quietly, "I'm sorry, Miyari. I'm so sorry it turned out this way. Even now...even here in these stolen moments, there's no time."
She glances at the stage where the figure of the Whistling Man seems to be moving faster, warming up as if he's frozen but thawing rapidly.
"Coooorriiiie..." Arielle whines.
Corinne takes a sharp breath and takes one of Miyari's clawed hands and puts something into before the time thief can say or do anything. She brings her other hand to clasp the object and Miyari's hand enclosing them between both of hers. Her gaze is down, at their hands.
"One day, you will understand. But for now, just know that you and your friends carry a burden far greater than you know. One which you may only have gained tonight. I have never seen any of you within the path I took, but...it's far too early to know the outcome. Prophecy...destiny...chance—you will come to learn that these are sometimes interchangeable, but never the same thing. It's hard to explain properly without more..time." She shakes her head ruefully, a sad smile twists her lips. "You and your friends must succeed in exploring the wilderness. Time flows, and it cannot be stopped even if it can be stolen..."
She trails off for a moment then raises her eyes to Miyari's. ", כל גיל מגיע לסיומו" she whispers mysteriously. "You will understand one day."
On the stage, the man seems to be moving ever faster, and the faint pierce of his whistle seems to enter into the chronosection.
The woman with the scarred face turns to look at the child behind her. "You may not be a part of the girl's destiny, but for now she is a part of yours, you and these others. I ask only that as long as she desires it, you allow her to accompany you. If there comes a moment when your destinies diverge..." A sob catches the words in her throat, "I only ask you to please treat her with kindness."
Corinne raise both her hands to Miyari's face and then kisses her once on each cheek. "Take care, cousin. I fear we may not meet again in this period."
"Another of Brigh's cast off taint?" The words seem to be spoken too slowly, very drawn out making the voice seem deeper than it was. The Whistling Man ever so slowly raises the Lyre to his shoulder. "This is just so taxing. Let's bring this back to where all things matter."
In an achingly slow movement, he reaches for and strums the fully regrown Lyre's strings...
Miyari feels pain inside...somewhere as time reasserts itself. A flash of white, and once again the man is onstage whistling the Lyre still regrowing in his hand.
For the briefest moment, a flash of chaos and insanity fills the minds of everyone who has heard the whistling tune the Whistling Man emits. Some are able to close their minds swiftly, while other struggle a few seconds longer. Just as in a nightmare, the brain attempts to regain control and realign with reality as if just coming awake after such a night terror.
"No, I won't let it," Corinne says. The fact she is suddenly standing next to Miyari may surprise a few around her. She reaches into her collar and pulls out a necklace she had kept hidden there. A crystal with swirling colors hangs on a cord. Two metal bands of particular sheen encircle the gem with one close to each end. She turns each of the bands once and...Corinne changes.
No longer is she the young woman with self-cut short hair and terrible scars. Now she is a woman in her middle years, hair cut in the style of the fey called pixies shot through with gray. A light armor of bluish silver plates fixed atop a purple underlining so deep as to be nearly black now adorns her instead of the tattered clothing from before. Power falls off of her form while a visible aura surrounds her. Through the edges of the aura, one can see the past of the area directly surrounding Corinne, the images changing constantly.
"Those who can dip into the power of time need not always be the self of the present, fiend. I will take you out of the equation of this moment!"
Corinne seems to glide through the air towards Mouthpiece who has been kneeling before his master in supplication this whole time, largely ignored. She makes a slashing motion across his throat without any visible effect before turning and essentially flying directly at the madman on the stage. She reaches for him, but the Whistling Man attempts to block her grab with the Lyre. Her hand makes contact with the instrument and the two begin to wrestle for it. The dark void of the man's cloak and the strange aura of displaced time surrounding Corinne almost seem to create sparks whenever they touch.
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Literal time explodes from the object in Miyari's hand. It washes over everyone in the market. Surprised shouts and flinching is all anyone can do before the wave of temporality strikes. A sense of being physically lifted from the ground and pulled warps the senses as vision blurs into blackness and sounds simple stop.
Time reasserts itself, and visions clear and sounds resume. Familiar and warm. The soft patter of the rain hits the roof and window panes...
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Upstairs, Dragon's Rest
Soft, maybe a little lumpy, the beds in the Dragon's Rest have weathered many a traveller. Tonight, they provide little rest though for terrible dreams have plagued those who have lain upon them tonight.
Kalica wakes suddenly. Sweat dripping down her face. I thought I was over this. I am still haunted by that day.
She lets out a heavy sigh and tries her best to shake it off. She then starts to pack up her blanket and get her gear ready.
Miyari snaps up awake, making a very annoyed squeak when she realizes that the blankets are trying to strangle her! She starts to fight with them to get free, and does so quickly, throwing them against the wall. Her teeth are bared, ears folded back and tail puffed up.
She then smells that Kalica is present in the room, and quickly forces herself to regain her composure.
Only then does Miyari realize she has what appears to be a small clock—a pocket watch—clutched tightly in her hand.
The ceiling. Not a star in sight. Armin slowly rises from bed, still in a daze. How long have I been asleep?
Glen slowly uncurls himself raising from the bed peering around the darkened room he quickly confirms Ali is not there, unlike the darkness he experienced in his dream the absence of light now did little to impede his vision.
There are some sounds in the hallway outside the rooms which resemble a scuffle.
Downstairs, Dragon's Rest
With a thump Ali, falls from the chair, dabbing with a shaking hand at the sweat beading across the brow Ali turns around and finds that none of the common room has awoke.
Ali: Unlike last time you came to, Brokk continues to snore atop the table and does not wake.
Each of you awakens immediately following your dreams. Yes, you have full recall of the incident that just transpired. No, it does not necessarily feel like a dream, but those who do not want to believe are generally able to convince themselves of a lot. For any who want to refresh their memories of what transpired immediately before or during bedtime, the appropriate thread page is HERE.
I appreciate everyone's tremendous patience. You are all wonderful! Don't forget to give me that Will Save DC 50 roll as listed above. :-)
Armin Albright |
Armin's body was at the pinnacle of technological perfection. Theoretically speaking, the android could fight on ceaselessly without a hint of fatigue, until the moment of his destruction. In the wake of his outburst however, his mind and soul were so, so tired. Faint vestiges of that rage cling to him as he forces himself to look up, to face the so-called "Whistling Man."
There was no doubt about who he was, but as for what the man was... now that was another matter entirely. Mostly due to the cotton he stuffed into his ears in preparation for this very moment, Armin has trouble comprehending what the man was saying. He does however, pick up on an all-too-familiar sense of deprecation in his words - he knew quite well that the lot of them were being talked down to. Perhaps that is why, as the Whistling Man starts to whistle, he is able to muster one last defiant act.
Once again Armin's circuitry tattoos light up, transforming his body into a torch of azure. He lets out a mighty bellow as the nanites in his blood surge, steeling his mind. For all the light he sheds however, in just seconds, if even that, everything goes black.
Will Save (Arielle's Touch, Earplugs, Nanite Surge): 1d20 + 1 + 30 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 1 + 30 + 5 + 4 = 60
Glen the Goblin |
Arielle touched Inspired Will save: 1d20 + 2 + 1 + 30 + 1d6 ⇒ (15) + 2 + 1 + 30 + (3) = 51
Being right next to Arielle Glen catches her barely audible whisper, and quickly drops his crossbow using both hands to cover his ears as well as possible. He was certainly no android, his wrinkled, puffy, green, fleshy body tires quite easily, goblins aren't made for this sort of thing. With his hands pressed firmly over his ears the stubby little man's eyes search for a place he can hide and maybe take Arielle with him, he had no intention of facing this 'whistling man' head on.
His thoughts are cut short with Corinne charging in and confronting the creepy being on the stage, at which point a lot of things happen that Glen can't follow very well and then black.
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Opening his eyes Glen finds himself once again curled in bed his ears perk towards the wet sound. Back in the inn? A double dream or something... else. Hearing the wet sound outside he slips over and grabs his crossbow loading a bolt before creeping over to the door.
Ali Harper |
Will Save: 1d20 + 30 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 30 + 4 = 44
The silence, darkness and chaos of the scene had been so discombobulating, that Ali wasn't sure of anything any more.
Upon waking before the pale embers of the hearth, the first thought is gratitude at the lack of suffering by townsfolk. Somehow he could still hear the groans of the injured smell the blood & rain upon the cobbles, feel the hatred in the air. 'At least those 'possessed' may not have been?' There's hope to the thought, marred by the underlying horror of that happening to him again.
Ruffling dark hair from his face, the dying log in the fire reminds him of the eyes of the shadowy Whistling Man. There was a pervasive sense of evil to him...
'Corinne.... did she awake too?! He thinks getting out of the harsh wooden chair and moving to the stairs.
Roswitha |
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 6
More later.
Miyari |
Perception (sound): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6
Perception (smell): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (11) - 1 = 10
Miyari scrambles to her feet, kicking off the blankets. She looks around quickly and notices the watch clutched in her hand, her dagger-like claws resting a moment against the surface. For once, she remembers her fellow time thief's name, "Oh no... Corrie..." She rushes towards the door not bothering with getting armored this time, leaving her armor behind, needing to check on where Corinne and Arielle was sleeping and letting nothing delay her. I promise you, I will protect her.
Miyari throws the door open.
Kalica |
Will Save: 1d20 + 30 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 30 + 1 = 43
I don't know what is worse...watching my love be murdered before my eyes or some horrible sorcerer tormenting everyone around him?
Kalica tries her best to recover from her anguish and rage. The heat of the battle still lingering in her mind. Wanting so badly to avenge her love and to also put a stop to something terrible. Trying her best to shake off the rage and get control of herself again she heads out of her room and downstairs for a drink.
Maybe a strong drink will clear my head a bit. Not the best way to start my day but certainly not the worst either.
Roswitha |
Roswitha bolts out of bed. What... what's that? Is it happening again? Sounds which might have been taken as a drunk's struggle to her room the night before are now most alarming.
I should protect myself. But when she tries the spell, she feels washed out, tired, empty. I should be able to do this. Unless what happened wasn't a dream?
She moves quietly to look out the window and retrieve her pack. I don't know what's going on, but... it... is not going to happen again. Maybe it was a warning dream. Maybe it was real. Maybe... I'm just paranoid. The window slides open as quietly as she is able to make it.
She hefts her pack onto her shoulders, loads her crossbow, summons a light (looking eerily like a translucent humanoid), draws her dagger, and opens the door, sending the light into the hall while she retreats to the far side of the room, near the window.
I am never drinking the swill in one of these backwater holes again!
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Upstairs, The Dragon's Rest
The cause of all the blood is rather obvious as a giant teddy bear holds the last of three darkly dressed humanoids impaled on magnificent steel claws. A half-orc coughs out blood as his body's twitching slowly ceases at which point the teddy drops its arms and allows the body to slide wetly down its claws to join to the rather horribly eviscerated companions of the half-orc. The teddy bear's head swivels to regard those emerging as well. The cloth around its mouth has the appearance of having been torn open to reveal wicked steel fangs from behind which flame burns just as it does in the glass orb serving as its only eye. The fire illuminates a small area around the teddy.
At the far end of the hallway, a glowing figure vaguely humanoid in shape drifts out of the far room's doorway.
Orphan Arielle |
Upstairs, The Dragon's Rest
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Downstairs, The Dragon's Rest
Roll 20 map is now updated back to the Dragon's Rest. Remember if you're on the second floor, scroll the map all the way to the right.
Roswitha |
When nobody seems about to enter and there are no shouts or noises of struggle, Roswitha advances warily to the door, dagger in hand, and peeks out, moving the dancing lights down the hallway so she can see.
There's a little girl standing there with a bear, and lots of blood and bodies.
Oh, gods. It wasn't a dream.
Miyari |
Miyari steps past the fallen who was mauled by Bubbles, not seeming to give much thought to him or the men behind the girl. Nor does she seem deterred from approaching by the bear's odd changing. She only stops when she is in front of Arielle, crouching down and looking at the girl in the eyes. The catfolk speaks softly.
"I know... and I am sorry. It seemed like she would do anything to protect you. But now... I know I am not strong like Corrie. But I will do everything I can to care for you and make you safe. I know it is not much, but I am here for you now." Miyari's expression is a bit complicated for a moment, a mix of sadness, anxiety and determination. She opens her arms a bit to offer Arielle a hug.
Orphan Arielle |
Upstairs, The Dragon's Rest
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Upstairs, The Dragon's Rest
As one they pronounce, "It wasn't a dream!"
"Stay here, Dongle. I believe Veliar should be downstairs. I will fetch him," one of the gnomes says, bright green hair peeking out of the hood of a hooded tunic.
"Quite right, Pulosh," the other responds, his aqua colored hair sticking out in all directions. "I'm certain we have become a part of something profoundly extraordinary."
The gnomes begin moving quickly, Pulosh dashing down the stairs while Dongle approaches those in the hall. One aqua colored eyebrow raises at the sight of all the blood and the ravaged corpses.
"Well, this looks to be quite the mess. Let's get this cleaned up before it draws any attention, shall we?"
Spirit of Pinvendor |
There will be an ongoing effect that will become obvious later. For now your characters suffer no obvious penalties at this time. You do however notice that your dreams have a slightly darker bent than usual. While not fully nightmares, the images in your dreams always seem to take a nasty and unexpected turn or display something which doesn't quite sit well with you upon waking.
The imagery could be a recurring theme or even a specific recurring dream. I would like to ask each of you to add this bit to your roleplay. It doesn't need to be full on posts separate from others, but grumpiness, melancholy, or what have you from bad sleep would be appropriate. Also, at some point in the future, if you could send me a quick PM with the the kinds of things your character is seeing in his/her dreams, I would appreciate it. The PM does not need to be written in character, and can be fairly short. I just need an idea.
Armin Albright |
Armin sits up in bed with a jolt, tossing his bed sheets to the side. He impulsively grabs out for his planson, but the weapon is too far out of his reach - he settles instead for the small handaxe sitting on his nightstand. He sits there huffing for a few seconds, awaiting a threat never makes itself known. Only when his body abruptly stop glowing does he realize that he had been shedding light in the first place. He looks down at his arms, flexing his fingers experimentally. Something... something felt different, but he could not quite figure out what.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
A dream...? he wonders as he scrambles to throw on his gear. It had taken him time to grow used to the 'night visions,' but now he was not so sure that he was used to them at all. He eyes the door, wary of what might be behind it. As he pulls on his armor, his hand passes over a partially healed laceration. It had happened right out in the hallway. Of that he was certain. Tightly gripping his axe, the android throws open the door, half-expecting to see the three cloaked stalkers from before.
And he did... sort of. Armin lowers his axe when he sees the familiar bear, not at all what he might he have once considered a sane action. Rather, it is the presence of more familiar faces that put him at ease. He sees the girl, Arielle, hugging the catfolk woman from before.
"I do not understand," he says lamely to no one in particular, a litany he had repeated quite often back before he truly awoke to himself.
Ali Harper |
Roswitha |
A waft of fresh air from the open window reminds her of its presence. Leaning out, she breathes deeply, certain the smell of blood has soaked into the lining of her nose and throat. A sudden thought occurs.
I'm really glad I gave the kid's nose back.
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Stairwell, The Dragon's Rest
"The others...they had rooms upstairs. That's why you...Let's go!"
A gnome with a shock of bright green hair practically crashes into Ali and the half-elf on the stairs.
"Veliar!" he bursts out. "Yes, yes! Come at once." Practically dancing, he gestures back upstairs then quickly hops up them himself but almost trips before catching himself using the banister. Ali realizes the gnome's stockings are only half on his feet. It's quite comical.
"Indeed, Pulosh!" Veliar responds. Without hesitation, Veliar hustles after him.
Miyari |
To Armin, Miyari shakes her head and says, "Do you have memories, same as me? It seems like we all remember what happened... What is your name, by the way? I am Miyari of Issia."
Glen the Goblin |
Looking up at Armin the ugly little man says "Glen is also of Issia, he has been with Miyari for some time together as a mystery solving team. And starting now the young Arielle will be in our care, unless she is opposed."
Ali Harper |
Stairwell, At The Dragon's Rest
However the gait of the gnome and the brightly coloured hoisery brings a startling thoughts of absurdity to his imagination and it's all the tousel haired lad can do to stop from giggling as the trio bounce uop the stairs to find the others.
The nightmare of the scene is vivaid in his thoughts, but the waking world seems to hold an equal hue of the absurd, the proposterous and the unreal. Others had called him a dreamer, but it seems he's not the only one...
At the back of his mind is a dark patina of concern for Corrine, Arielle and even the vicious Bubbles... but surely they must all be fine?
Kalica |
Kalica's jaw hits the ground when she walks out of the room. Taking in everything around her it is like an ongoing nightmare that just doesn't seem to have ran out of steam.
Once the teddy bear takes a more milder tone of that...a teddy bear.. Kalica lets herself breath again and manages to pick up her jaw from the ground. Composing herself on the outside while her thoughts run rapid on the inside she tries her best to sort out the chaos.
A plan. What we need here is a solid plan and one that involves getting the hell out of this town. ASAP. She takes a second breath and waits for Miyari to finish talking to the girl. She then puts a steady hand on Miyari's shoulder and whispers in her ear.
"We don't have time for tears and the more time we spend here we waste and draw attention to ourselves. I am going to get our charter. You and the gnome should try to find a way to sneak her out of the city and meet us. Grab the others if you wish for them to come. I will grab Ali. Disguise her, use my horse but make it quick." She looks from Miyari to Arielle and does her best to wipe the concern off her face and put on a smile. She then walks past the girl and pats her on the head on her way to the stairs. "Everything will be fine. You will see. You have a new friend with me and my Betsy."
As she makes her way down the stairs she gives Ali a stern look and grabs her by the arm. "We need to go the charter house now. Let's get what we need and get ready to leave. Also, let's stop by the bar, I need a an entire bottle of something...strong."
Armin Albright |
"Armin is the name I chose for myself. Armin Albright. Of Numeria."
Ali Harper |
I'm ready to move on :D
Spirit of Pinvendor |
Moving things along, feel free to spoiler any RP you wish to perform that would happen during this fast forward.
With the arrival of Pulosh and Veliar, cleanup of the three dead bodies goes quickly. Veliar (and any of the party who wish to assist) stuffs the bodies into a magical sack that Dongle produces. Pulosh uses prestidigitation magic to clear away the blood and bits of gore.
Veliar urges the party to cram into one of the rooms so they can speak privately once the cleaning is finished. He urgently recommends the party to relocate as it is unclear if the inn is going to be attacked as everyone recalls happening...before? He advises that he and the two gnomes have a patron they arrived too late in the day to call upon in the city. However given the circumstances, Veliar is confident their patron would be willing to help. When a small commotion downstairs is heard, his concern seems to have merit.
Kalica and any who choose to venture downstairs for a look discover that a man runs into the inn to announce that someone was murdered in the market to the west of the inn. There are three witnesses who were the deceased's friends from the dueling school he attended. They say that he had told them he had a song that he could only play in rainy weather and produced a strange and beautiful lyre upon reaching the market square. When he raised his fingers to the instrument, his throat had suddenly begun bleeding as if cut. He bled out quickly and died as none of the students had any ability to heal. The lyre vanished before their very eyes in the next moment.
After learning this, the party is now left with a decision. You can stay at the inn as originally intended, leave and venture to Veliar's patron's estate, or even approach Cerwek and Corvin regarding the elf he mentioned before to whom he had wanted to present the party for confirmation. Neither Cerwek nor Corvin display any knowledge of the prior events. Llewyn has never emerged from his room, and Brokk remains blissfully passed out on the table in the dining room.
Feel free to discuss in character here or out of character in the discussion thread. If any discussion or decisions are made in the chat, please have one of you post a quick summary of the group's decision in discussion or as a quick story post in gameplay. If anyone has any specific RP they want to do separate from the fast forward, just add it as a spoiler in post here or PM me, and I will respond to you in kind.
If no specific decision is presented within a couple days, I will make a decision on which path I will take the railroad and we will move on. Heh heh heh.
Spirit of Pinvendor |
After a little discussion, most people feel wary of leaving the inn to travel on the streets and still feel driven to acquire the charter from the office just up the street. The Dragon's Rest has suddenly seemed to benefit from the protection of armed men led by one Corvin who now are watching the perimeter due to the mysterious murder so close to where the inn stands. While still cautious the majority of the group retire to their rooms and get some tentative rest. Veliar shares watch with the two gnomes over the stairs and hallway to allow the rest of the group to sleep.
Perhaps surprisingly, nothing else happens for the remainder of the night. And somewhere between nine and ten in the morning, Cerwek comes around to advise everyone it's time to check out, and breakfast will be served for all who have paid rooms. Veliar strongly urges everyone to come to their patron's estate and provides directions before departing quickly to head there with Dongle and Pulosh.
The Land Charter office is not very busy as most of the people who had wanted a charter have already come and gone. The party will discover with a little chit-chat with the clerks, three major parcels have already had charters issued, and only one parcel called The Greenbelt remained available (pursuant to the success of the other expeditions, of course). The clerks take everyone's names and advises the charters will be prepared and available to be picked up by one o'clock. With a couple hours to spend, the newly chartered expeditionaries may do what they please while they wait for the charters to be written and sealed.
Roswitha |
Roswitha turns up very early at the Land Charter offic, being unable to sleep after the events of the night. When she discovers the identity of her fellow Greenbelt charterers, she nods slowly. "Naturally. I was hoping that last night was some sort of hallucination. But I didn't see you before those "dreams", and now you're here. So... fate? Are we shackled into the same destiny by some deity with a warped sense of humor?"
Miyari |
Miyari sleeps like a stone any time that she is able, and once she managed to get Arielle to rest she followed soon afterwards. Still, once roused she had made Glen aware that it was time to go to the charter office.
Upon arrival, she sniffs the air and, encountering a familiar smell and voice, she turns to Roswitha, "I was hoping that it was a hallucination as well. I thought yesterday that I had lost my mind. Now, I wonder if that would have been the preferable option?" The catfolk shrugs and continues, "Still, I imagine there could be worse people to be yoked with, if it's not mere coincidence that we all just happened to be late to the office last night. By the way, I am Miyari of Issia. Or of the Jati tribe. Either works, but I think the former is perhaps more true."
Ali Harper |
Ali stays in the inn, huddled up in a corner though he does offer to take a bit of a watch - the nights events(?) have certainly unsettled him. Thus he gets up with a certain mussiness of the late riser and sets about with great vigour on finishing the breakfast for despite a trim physique he knows the foods been paid for & it might be a while before there's another decent sized one available.
Getting to the office with Kalica, he greets the others; "'allo Miyari, I don't reet trust destiny. Best make your own. That's why it's a grand idea to head back out t' forest and explore. Maybe if we map it, we can make tha' safer."
Looking past Miyari and Glen, Ali asks softly; "Hang on, where's tha' little lass? Or t' other one." Wondering if they've let Arielle out of their sight.
Kalica |
Kalica rubs her head. Her eyes a bit bloodshot and the linger of strong drink still sticking to the back of her throat she just curtly nods to everyone.
She let's out a slight groan, nudges Ali and says to her, "Can we please just hurry this along? My head is swimming in an abyss of agony and I don't know how much longer I can keep my food down." Feeling ill Kalica just walks over to the charter door and heads outside. "I need some fresh air." She remarks. Once outside she does her best to keep her breakfast down then leans against the charter wall for support.
What ever was I thinking? Strong drink did nothing to clear my head. Ugh. It is going to be a long day.
Ali Harper |
With a shake of the roughly cut mop of hair, Ali looks to the lithe but hung-over elf. "Right Miss Wordy, don't embarrass me!" He hisses softly with the temperament of a teenager, before looking around the office.
Roswitha |
Roswitha bows slightly to the catlike woman, pleased at her courtesy. "And I am Roswitha of... of the Greenbelt, I suppose." She smiles wryly. "And all of these are with us as well? You, young sir? The somewhat ill elf? Any others?" She includes Ali in her conversation as well, looking after Kalica with some concern.
Armin Albright |
Despite (or perhaps in spite of) the possibility that they were in mortal danger, Armin had gone right back to his room. Whether in anticipation of a cultist attack or out of a desire to protect the orphan girl, he did not say. He was not certain whether he was more worried or put at ease by the fact that the dream was real, but he manages to get a good night's sleep regardless.
Owing to that, he makes it to the charter office in a timely manner. Somehow, he is not at all surprised to see who his companions to be are.
"I was once told that fate died with Aroden," Armin interjects, recalling something a Kellid once told him. Without any elaboration he moves right onto a proper introduction, for those he had not met when they all woke up. "I am Armin Albright. It seems that I will be joining you on your expedition. I am not entirely... displeased by this turn of events."
The android's eyes then wander, searching for a very particular clerk. The real reason why for him, even in the chaos of the "dream," leaving the city had not really been an option. Without offering an explanation he wanders off in search of the man named Relzand.
Orphan Arielle |
Looking past Miyari and Glen, Ali asks softly; "Hang on, where's tha' little lass? Or t' other one." Wondering if they've let Arielle out of their sight.
The young girl peeks out from behind Miyari's legs, clutching her ragged looking teddy bear. The catfolk's tail curls around the girl's shoulders almost protectively before sliding off.
"Hello again..." she says softly.
The girl looks almost entirely different. Her brown hair is combed and gathered up in a ponytail on the left side of her of head. Her sunflower yellow dress appears to be cleaned, pressed, and mended. She has a rough traveling cloak and carries a small bag rigged to fit her as a backpack. In fact, even the teddy's raggedness seems intentional and less worn. The missing glass bead eye remains only a stitch however.