Solvistania listens to the elfs words with a sense of almost childlike wonder, her fatigue momentarily forgotten.
Excuse me, but why will waking your brother lead to the defeat of the Shadow? and what is the nature of the stepping stone we need to cross? Is it related to the Sundering?"
The tall elf nods at your showing of the bones and approaches the fire. "The bones remember the debt that is owed - all the debts. That is why you are here - to repay that debt and collect what is owed to you." For a moment he is silent and then he continues. "Underneath that crumbled tower, deep underneath, there is a stepping stone, the first in a path that leads under the mountains, where my brother sleeps. I can not reach the stone - it is forbidden to me - but you can. You can awake my brother, after all this time that he slept through. This is why I have summoned you."
"Your brother?" grunts the tall Dorn. "Who is your brother? Why does he sleep down there, and how long has he slept? What will happen if we wake him, and why is his resting place forbidden to you? And, more importantly... who are you? We need answers before we can be convinced that we should aid you... I don't know about the rest of you, but a dream and a piece of bone is not enough for me to blindly trust a stranger who clearly is no normal elf... My brother and I have lost too much, already..."
The dworg nods as the elf-orc woman and the Dorn question the large elf. When they are finished he ads, "What debt might have I to pay back? Everything I have now, he indicates his scars and possessions, I have earned through blood. Everything else has been taken from me. The only debt I feel is the debt of revenge. That I will happily pay back in spades." He emphasizes this last statement by slamming his axe, which he holds by the grip in right hand, into his left, gripping it also just below the head.
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"My name... has been taken from me. My brother's name... I have forgotten. I have been... reduced by the Shadow and much of my memories are gone. There were four of us, I think. And we had a mother. Perhaps some of my memories will return to me when my brother wakes... Until then you may choose to help me or not. If not, I will cast my net once more and some other bones will answer my call. And you will forget me and this night will be as it never happened."
The Dorn turns to look at the form of his still-entranced brother lying near the fire, hoping for some kind of response or advice from him. "I shall give you my decision, caller, once I have had the opportunity to discuss the matter at hand with my brother," he says to the towering, broad-shouldered elf.
"My dreams speak to me...and really I've nothing better to do". "I will take these steps". "I am not afraid". I would know more about this however".
"Why now"? "And what do you know of what we will encounter or have to overcome".
Sky steps closer to the elf as he speaks.
Sense motive
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"My dreams speak to me...and really I've nothing better to do". "I will take these steps". "I am not afraid". I would know more about this however".
"Why now"? "And what do you know of what we will encounter or have to overcome".
Sky steps closer to the elf as he speaks.
1d20+4 Sense motive
"Why now? Because the time is right. The Shadow has extended himself and a century has passed without serious challenge to his might. He has grown complacent. And the other powers surfaced against him. That is why. Some parts of me... returned."
Sense Motive:
Solvistania looks at her companions and sees the look of mistrust in their eyes, and a feeling of amusement comes over her. Always mistrusting everything that is new, fearing the unknown. These people amuse me.
Aloud she says to the tall white eyes elf: "If this means a chance to strike a blow against the Shadow, I will do it, although my companions are hesitant to trust you as I do."
"Grrr...if orcs will die, I will do. But if one of you betray us --"
Pete makes a slashing motion across his throat with a long, wickedly sharp fingernail.
"And what.. You think I will just leave Lar'Hadri hear with you and these wolves. He is no mere horse."
As she says this, Zafina steps closer to her mount.
"Trust is something that is earned, not dictated, maam," he says with a wry smile towards the haughty pale woman. Chops attempts to think back to what he knows about the powers that are involved in the fall the good races and the rise of Shadow minions, and what it may have to do with any giant elves.
Knowledge Shadow: Doh!?!
"I am inclined to listen to this elf, and help him with this task. Not only to save the world, but to also save my memory, for I believe him when he says that he can make us forgot. Sir and fellow guests of this mysterious stranger, my friends call me 'Chops.' I will join this quest to try and rid the world of this blight of the dark god and his minions."
Solvistania retorts back to Chops "If anyone has reason to fear the Shadow, it would be me. But this elf means us no harm. Do not let fear paralyze you, that way lies madness!
"I believe we all have suffered from the machinations of Izrador. A healthy dose of caution is always in order. To rush in without a thought would be foolish. You say this elf means us no harm. Tell me, what do you know?"
"I know...much, but of this being I know little. Legends I have heard when I was a child, but little else."
The tall Dorn sits once again by the fire, next to his entranced brother. "You all asked at one point or another if you could share our fire," he says in the Trader's Tongue. "Given the circumstances we presently find ourselves in, I see no harm in allowing you to warm yourselves at our side for the night, even if my brother and I have yet to decide whether we will accept this quest or not... As a matter of fact, I welcome you, for the time being... My name is Eyvindr of Nalford, son of Harulf, of House Falon..."
Pete creeps closer to the fire. "I am Pete. You have food?"
"Thank you." The dworg picks a log near the fire where he can keep an eye on the northerner that threatened him. After sitting, he puts his urutuk in his lap, leans forward and rubs his hands together in the warmth of the flames, waiting for introductions and revelations from their strange host.
Pete creeps closer to the fire. "I am Pete. You have food?"
Eyvindr nods in acknowledgement as the Dunni introduces himself, and as Chops thanks him for the spot by the fire. He then reaches for his worn leather pack, rummages through it, unwraps a cloth bundle with his dirty hands, and tosses a few strips of dried deer meat at both the halfling and the wolves, then stuffs the rest back in his pack. "My brother should be waking soon," he murmurs, a note of concern evident in his voice.
Solvistania looks over at the brother who still has not woken up at the arrival of the fellowship. She thinks, The spirits have a hold of his soul. Something may be preventing him from joining the living
Solvistania looks over at the brother who still has not woken up at the arrival of the fellowship. She thinks, The spirits have a hold of his soul. Something may be preventing him from joining the living
** spoiler omitted **
Nightflier
A raven caws loudly in the distance. The fire dims slightly and the air stills. A small dancing light rises from the flame, shudders and then drifts to Evindyr's blade, dancing around his hands, and sometimes through them. The wolves, lying low near the resting Dorn, raise their heads sharply. Somewhere in the darkness a child giggles.
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A raven caws loudly in the distance. The fire dims slightly and the air stills. A small dancing light rises from the flame, shudders and then drifts to Evindyr's blade, dancing around his hands, and sometimes through them. The wolves, lying low near the resting Dorn, raise their heads sharply. Somewhere in the darkness a child giggles.
Ragnar fitfully stirs in his sleep. Perhaps he will soon wake from his dreams underneath raven wings...
A raven caws loudly in the distance. The fire dims slightly and the air stills. A small dancing light rises from the flame, shudders and then drifts to Evindyr's blade, dancing around his hands, and sometimes through them. The wolves, lying low near the resting Dorn, raise their heads sharply. Somewhere in the darkness a child giggles.
Eyvindr looks intently at the small dancing light that dances around and through his hands, apparently unafraid. As he hears the invisible child giggle, his brow furrows and his icy gaze goes from the light, to the wolves, to his brother, and finally to the others... how will they react? he wonders...
Solvistania watches the scene unfold with interest, her blood red eyes gleaming, as they absorb every detail, trying to determine what the spirits will do next.
Chops, who had taken his boots off to let his sweaty feet and boots dry out by the fire, perks up at the new visitors, thinking: "Are these the newcomers? Nah, just tricks." He decides that his boots are dry enough and slides them back onto his toasty feet, waiting for the elf to further reveal the quest he has brought this group together for. He pulls a piece of cheese out of his pack and munches on it.
A elfling tall figure moves from the shadow towards the fire. As she closes, she removes her hood and you see a small human woman staring at you with short dark hair and dark eyes. She smiles wearily.
"I nearly missed you. Thankfully, your voices and the light guided me. I am Gilian."
She looks at the shining figure: "So you were the one sending the dreams?"
Waiting for the entity answer, her gaze sweeps round the assembly to stop on the sleeping Dorn and his standing companion.
Solvistania tears her attention away from the spirits hovering over the unconscious form and looks over at the Erenlander female. Seeing she is a healer, with channeling abilities, she responds in a quiet tone in Erenlander: "Welcome to our quest, Gilian. It is good to know the voice to the face." You cannot help but notice her eyes and how they stare at you, drinking in every detail.
"Others have answered my call as well", suddenly says the strange elf. "I sense them coming."
"Those are quite the seeds you sent out to the wind, pale one," grumbles Eyvindr as yet another stranger arrives. "Should we expect all of Eredane to arrive before dawn? That would make it easier for the Dark One to wipe out the remaining free folk with one stroke..."
" Perhaps he will join us before dawn."
"Perhaps he will." comes the low rumbling voice from the ground.
With a long sigh the giant of a man rolls slowly toward a sitting position, curling his legs to cross beneath him. He reaches out before him, as if to grasp someone's hand, yet before someone reaches, his grip closes, grabbing no visible hand. He surges slowly and powerfully to his feet, seemingly helped by nothing.
Where his brother is thick and brawny, with a taught wildness that speaks of ready motion and animalistic tension, this Dorn is simply massive and still. Taller and broader even than his brother, he stands like a monolith, shadows clinging to him. His eyes are hidden beneath his heavy hood, his face covered by a thick blond beard that forks into two braids which rests against his broad chest, capped in beads carved from bone.
On his shoulder is the head of a massive white bear, it's hide pulled across his back and draped over the heavy canvas coat he wears. Over his shoulder sits the worn grip of a great bastard sword, much like the one wielded by his brother, this one topped by a carved bone pommel in the shape of a raven's head.
He stands for a moment, watching the new arrivals to his fire, standing as still as death. The light dancing around his brother's sword splits into four pale wisps and flits sound him, casting long shadows and creating eerie silhouettes. A great black bird spirals down out of the sky and lights on the bear's-head pauldron, twisting it's savage gaze across the group. The wolves curl around his thick legs, their eyes gleaming in the ghost-light. He seems like a creature out of ancient Dornish legend, terrifying to behold.
"Lower your blade Eyvindr. The Vigdir herald their coming. This one"- He nods toward the gleaming elfin figure- "needs our aid."
He then reaches for his worn leather pack, rummages through it, unwraps a cloth bundle with his dirty hands, and tosses a few strips of dried deer meat at both the halfling and the wolves, then stuffs the rest back in his pack.
Pete tears hungrily at the meat, nodding his thanks.
When Ragnar awakes and the big black bird flaps down near him, Pete gestures the others to silence: "Look! fresh bird better than dry meat." He licks his lips as his hand reaches out stealthily for a rock to throw at the tasty creature.
Solvistania glances at the halfling and , although she did not understand his muttered phrase, when seeing hin pick up the rock, and looking up to the sky where the raven is circling, easily deduces his intentions.
Speaking in Trader to him: Hold, little one, the spirits would not be pleased with this.
"Look! fresh bird better than dry meat." He licks his lips as his hand reaches out stealthily for a rock to throw at the tasty creature.
The raven, the two wolves and the massive Dorn all turn their gazes to their small guest, at the same time, in exactly the same way.
One of the wolves growls low. The raven cants it's head and rasps "I just want the eyes, Freigha. The rest is yours."
The Dorn says nothing. He simply waits.
Rolling his eyes, Chops grips his axe, stands up, and prepares to defend the halfling if it should come to it.
"Let's do it!"
Solvistania stands up to address the group, glaring at each of the members in turn I am here to fight the Shadow. I have commited myself to this and I will see him brought down, scattered to the four winds of Eredane. Know this, the forces of Shadow would do anything to get their claws into me, for what I can do. I can tell you death or existence as a Fell would be a far preferable to that fate. I am looking for those who would stand with me until the end. So either you stand with me, or against me.
She then sits down, nearly collapsing, finally overwhelmed by her fatigue.