Lady Ciedrel brings you to the a full meeting of the elven council. The proposal to renounce the 'Wheatfield Accords' is brought up.
An aged elf with a gleaming greatsword with the symbol of Iomedae rises to speak. Murmers of disapproval for the elf who is too old and spent too much time among humans is voiced openly and disrespectfully by many. His words are short and to the point:
"The elves never signed the Wheatfield Accords, because it was a code of honor. The word of the elven king at the time was given, and pen was never considered. Elves could match the goblins and orcs man to man, but never horde to horde! The dueling code allowed elven champions to decide issues where the superior numbers of our adversaries could not be brought to bear against us. Do not do this for the expediency of the moment!!"
He looks to Windfavor for support. The aged elf looks at the queen with a pained look, and withdraws in embarassment.
He unsheaths his sword, and the sword gleams brightly and speaks clearly:"The Inheritor is not for this. The old alliances will crumble."
As you watch, it is clear the proposal has broad support, although many have been swayed by the elderly veteran.
Suny, who wears little more than wrapped silks of pale green and yellow, watches and listens to all that happens within this Elven court with bright interest.
At the wise Elder's words, she intently studies his motions, as well as his speech. While others murmur their intents, whether approval or not, Suny sits quietly, her gaze still resting upon the Elder while also distractedly blank as gazes upon vistas within her own mind.
Suddenly she stands, then seeing her motion bring attention to herself for the first time, she blushes and nods contritely. Though clearly embarrassed at thrusting herself onto almost 'Center Stage', the Elf-maid does continue to stand proudly, if obviously quite nervous -As one bare foot is absently rubbed behind the other leg.
"Indeed, what you have said is true." And she bobs/bows a curtsy of respect/acknowledgement to the Aged speaker.
"but....The ages where such accords were spoken? How far ago are they? Do the current Human Lords even remember them? What of the even shorter lived Orcs and Goblins? Even assuming they cared to remember them, let alone feel the need to follow?" Now her gaze moves about the rest of those assembled.
"As for 'Following'.... How may different tribes of Humans are there? How many groups? Will they too follow such words talked about in but a few Elve's memories?" Suny indicates the rest of her fellow adventurers/companions.
"My friends have lost companions to those Humans who do know of such accords. They use such words as constraints against us. So that they may take their advantage upon us and hence drive out own words back upon us as any wicked blade." Suny's blush brightens as both her passions increase and more scrutiny is brought to bear upon said speaker.
"My kin might seem far removed from these words and actions and happenings, but Human ships travel every where. Their industry is brought ever farther from their birth places. A net trawling across the ocean floor makes no distinction between the fish it kills and the other lives it might ensnare." Suny's words slow and she pauses for a moment, and she looks directly to the Elder.
"Instead of letting old words and meanings crumble, or be forgotten, or become used as something for which they were not intended, they should be strengthened. Renewed. Brought back to the attention of the descendants to whom some here still remember their proud and noble ancestors..." Suny finishes her speech...looks about those gathered who's attention she has brought to bear upon herself and she again gives a contrite 'bobbing' curtsey as a way of honor an, respect and to show she's finished as she meekly and quickly resumes her seat.
Seltyn gives Suny a warm smile. Couldn't have said it better, myself.
To the rest of the party, he says, The Accords, such as they were, find honor now only in the hands of human mystics, who used them to lay claim to elven ships, and forced us to fight to regain our own property. When did we agree to that?
I went to wizard's school, right around the corner from here. I don't remember learning that Elfhome willingly surrendered her remaining ships to the descendants of the original signers. Why would we do that?
Suny blushes even more at Seltyn's comment and wiggles sideways in a belated attempt to seek some kind of cover/shelter from any one's scrutiny...
After Suny's speech, a standing round of applause from most of the group. The measure is signed by the Queen. She gives Suny a thankful look.
After the council, a young, fair elf in coats of silk adorned with silver and gold thread follows Suny. He introduces himself.
"Haldin Sumerile, at your service young lady. I have not seen you around court. Very effective speech."
He looks at Suny, but shakes his head:
"We need to go shopping for a court dress for you."
He hold out his elbow.
Suny nods and smiles shyly in acknowledgement of every one's attention, again curtsying and bobbing under the gaze of the Queen. Once outside a spring returns to her step as she skips along with her friends.
At the approach of Haldrin, she smiles and again dips into a curtsy.
"Elanesadrial. She replies simply in way of greeting and reply, though she giggles as she drops into the Human's 'vernacular' way of speech,
"Though, th' folks over on'a main-land, thay can't get that right, ever. So's they's happy ta jus' call me 'Suny', y'ken?" And her features brighten into her usual happy self. (^_^)
At Haldin's comment about clothes she actually glances down at the silks she's wearing, "What ever for? These feel nice." And she laughs again, though possibly seeing Haldrin's expression she explains.
"When my friends and I first arrived, it took me a while to realize why people were gasping and eventually chasing after me.' Her eyes twinkle with mischief. "It took some crafty haberdashers a few hours to corner me and wrap me in these silks." (^_^) Though she is happy to link arms with him.
Wil smiled at Suny after her speech knowing full well there was nothing more need to be added after such a rousing and well thought approach to the rather heated council meeting. As she left with a young suitor he smiled even broader. He kept his thoughts to himself, hoping she would find more joy before they set off again.
He instead focused on the Veteran who had spoke and soughthim out as soon as he could.
If he was successful he introduced himself. "Honorable Elder, apologies but I didn't catch your name. I too served in human lands with the Companions and would like to know more about these old alliances and such as your blade had spoke of. For now though I am Wilaml Fmelvam, Paladin in service of our father. I would also like to know more of the Accords and understand them as I hadn't known them until recently."
He doesn't hide nor gloat about the god he served, merely making sure the Elder understood his allegience.
The elder elf relates some ancient history:
"When the armies of elves, dwarves, and humans united many years ago to defeat the goblin hordes, the leader appointed to lead the combined armies was a hobbit was named Ebon Wheatfield. Many claimed King Horseborn chose him as the leader as a compromise to placate the egos of elf, dwarf and man, but he turned out to be a strategic genius. After the war would end, he predicted (with the aid of the high priests of Desna, Iomedae, and Sarenrae) the fracturing of the people to local governments who would strive to resolve conflicts with armies. Ebon proposed the Wheatfield Accords near the end of the conflict and they were agreed to by all. Near the end of the conflict, Ebon was challenged by a demon champion in attempt to lift a critical siege who invoked the Wheatfield Accords. Ebon slew the demon champion in single combat, and an assault on the breeched walls was avoided as the goblins surrendered."
"After the war ended and the human king died, the human barons formed many local governments, so the humans tried to get each individual human leader to sign them to preserve their unity. An organization was formed by the White Wizard, the most powerful wizard in all the lands, called the Coalition of Light which has strived to preserve the accords and unite everyone to serve the greater good. Ebon Wheatfield's son is still involved in this Coalition, many spellcasters, and some celestial beings."
"So these accords do not limit who fights who, warrior against warrior and such? Because equal combat would be more honorable then one being outmatched by another's abilities. Or am I mistaken Elder?"
The elder knight smiles: "No two opponents are ever equal in ability. Besides, the challenge can be passed to anyone who is interested. You challenge a squire, you may get to fight his master."
The grizzled elf shrugs his shoulders, "Well, seems my star at court has waned considerably. I think it is time to be moving on."
The elf excuses himself and retires.
Another elf approaches, he has golden hair and amber eyes and is dressed in ceremonial armor with a rapier and a slender curved blade. He speaks to Wil: "The old ways no longer hold. To take our rightful place, we must break with tradition. You were right to question him so--he has not one ounce of noble blood in him. No matter what I hear, I do not fear tales of the latest Sir Wheatfield. I am itching to show him what an elven curved blade will do. His lance and longsword are no match for my blades."
His insignia mark him as one of the top generals in Lady Ciedrel's service. The noble house markings on his cloak shows that his honors may be due in a significant part to his family name.
Wil had heard of the Inheritor and her tenets once before. He also knew that those who followed her were greatly admired in human lands and yet this elder was disrespected for those he fought for. It was a sad thing to see this proud elder treated so. Before he could step away fully Wil spoke. "May the leaves of the life tree never fade honorable elder. Respect and honor, always." He bows his head, not knowing if the elven warrior caught the reverence in his tone.
He had stood quietly when the newcomer came up and spoke so vehemently, which caused him to shake his head in turn. He turns to look at this smug General, keeping to his code as he responded politely. "Please do not misconstrue my words or intent. In all honesty I respect him for speaking up, knowing he might stand alone. That takes courage and makes him noble in the eyes of our Father who's pure blood runs through us all equally. I am Wilaml and you are General?
Azlain can't help but let out a short, heartless laugh.
"So let me get this straight- Before now, you settled conflicts with your champion against theirs? Winner got their way?"
"Let's assume your champion won. What did the other side loose? Some kid with a sword and about twenty-five years under his belt? How long was it until someone else took power and came up with a new reason to try to take things from you? Another twenty years? Forty? Plenty of time for the next great champion of men to show up, right? Nice that we still have ours to face them."
"Now what if they win this time. What do we lose? How many centuries of wisdom and experience die at the end of the sword for some short-sighted conflict? How long until the next thing that needs championing? Who's our next champion? What if they die too?"
"Seems like whoever Wheatfield was, he definitely tricked the great revered idiot king who agreed to it into betting against his own people. The whole system is stacked in favor of whoever breeds fastest and has the shortest life span."
"You probably shouldn't keep playing their game."
"I an General Amelion. I see you elves get it. That is why the human ways are inferior."
"If I may, it seems that these 'Wheatfield Accords' did nothing to prevent our race being driven to the edge of the world. In the time of my brothers, there were none who could threaten us, and we were free to walk unopposed for as far as the eye could see and the mind dream. The kings and nobles of humans have turned the strictures of honor into a noose that even now strangles us to within a hair's breadth of extinction."
The humans might well be inferior, but that doesn't mean that they do not have some knowledge that might be useful to us as a race. In the same way as the poison dart frog of the jungles is a weak and insignificant creature by itself, but no predator would attack it for it would mean their death almost certainly. We need to play it smartly and use tactics of nature herself in our struggle.
The various arguments and arrogant swagger grated on Wils resolve but he kept his cool as he responded calmly and to the point. "Who is or isn't inferior is not the point here at all. General Amelion, i'm sure that you could best most men in this room one on one. But when does one's fighting technique fail? Can we take on two men. Surely, then perhaps ten would be difficult yes? What if it was a hundred or a thousand to one. That was the only point the Whitefield Accords made in the beginning it decided battles were loss of life would have been crushing or strategic points had to be maintained. However Thalas is right that over time it was twisted and what was once a code of honor turned it into a weapon against us. But to ignore the past and those who lived those trying times makes us ignorant and prone to lead our people down the wrong path."
He spread his hand placatingly to the general then on behalf of the humans he had fought and bled beside. "Human ways made seem inferior because their race is young and short lived, which leaves those of us of long life and possessing of deep wisdom to help guide them if we can. To help foster and promote a society akin to ours and in my time among the Companion General I have seen this potential. So please cast aside this air of superiority and remember that we too were once a young race, learning how to be who we are today as they are now."
He was still reeling at how quick everyone was to insult those who forged the path they now trod upon. He maintained his features though, not willing to fall into the bickering and hoping to make people realize that not everything is so black and white. "Forgive me but if we have nothing further to discuss I will take my leave, I have preparations to make for our journey to the island realms." He bows his head and departs the council chambers before saying anything more.
He gathers the extra items they had gathered and sells them off at the local vendors and for a time he barter's back and forth with some particular merchants. After about an hour of bartering though things were squared away. With those things settled for now he moved off to the training grounds and threw himself head long into it once more. Both to improve his skills and relieve his mounting frustrations.
Watching Wil leave, Azlain shrugged. "Wil likes to think we're all equals, or at least that no one aught to think of themselves as better than anyone else, even if they are. The thing is, I think a few of you might have things backwards. You speak of humans like they are dirt beneath your shoes, or at best, children in need of guidance, and yet somehow, they managed to convince the entire elven nation to agree to a situation that put them at an overwhelming disadvantage and has ended up with the near extinction of your civilization."
"According the the Natural Order you're all so keen on, that puts them clearly higher on the evolutionary chain. Survival of the fittest and all that."
"Maybe it's time to lose the superiority complexes and stop underestimating the folks that have been kicking your tails in for the last millennium."
A human born when I was would be dead before I learned my first cantrip, and would be almost as fecund as any orc or goblinoid. They are not as vicious, on the surface, as the monstrous races, but time has proven them to be just as monstrous to us as any other race.
Azlain is right. The Accords may have been "fair" at one time, but they aren't, now, and elfkind is now a shadow of what it once was because of them. The decision has been made, and it is the right one.
Derrick may be our ally now, but that alliance ends with his demise, and that will happen in a matter of decades, maybe less. A very brief dalliance, by our reckoning.
We've lost too many elves to think in terms of "fair." There is nothing fair in our dealings with the growing evils among the humans. We must reunite with our wood elf cousins, dissuade them from their shortsighted dealings with human mercenaries, and together, we must rise again to the power of our forebears.
As I see it, we are a race divided, commingling with those who cannot live long enough to either savor or regret the true fruits of their decisions. They are not like us, and there can be no reconciliation. If we can't put the humans in check, then we will cease to be.
Seltyn bows and excuses himself, getting into the long line of those who wish to greet the Queen.
I still have a few questions for our lady. It shouldn't take long.
When you return to your quarters you are shocked by what awaits you, the winds are all open wide. Allowing sunlight to stream in and fill the room with natures light. What draws your eye at first is the gleam of metal and the colorful orchids sitting on your writing desk in a simple looking vase. The orchids are a mixture of yellow and purple orchids accented by some baby's breath flowers to help separate some of the flowers. Draped over the chair of your writing desk is a chainshirt, one you recognize as being one of the ones captured from the witches henchmen. Except this particular one is cleaner and bares a slight glow as well, sitting alongside it is an elegantly carved Buckler, both items are finely crafted.
Next to the orchids is a note written in an elven...
Thought you could use some cheering up. I hope you find the flowers enjoyable and understand their meaning. If you need me I will be in the training yard as always. Wilaml
He stripped off his armor, threw aside his shirt and stretched his tense muscles as he loosened up prior to training. He didn't mind revealing his battle scars, some decades old and some puffy and fresh, today he had training to do and couldn't be shy about showing some skin. Besides walking all over the city had been tiring and he had more work to do. He squared up with the training dummy and gave a loud Hyah before he move to strike it.
Thankfully he had wrapped his hands to protect them from the hard surface he was striking and was now enjoying hand to hand combat with a wooden training dummy. He practiced his dodging and tried to aim at striking vital points and inflicting debilitating hits with his fists. Unlike the men he trained under before he wasn't a large man, nor particularly agile, but he did the best he could.
He pushed himself to go faster, hit harder, more precise. He was still able to hear his human instructor's aged voice yelling at him to do better, strike like you mean it and give it all you've got. He remembered fondly the quarterstaff pushing his leg forward and throwing him off kilter when he was sparring, his instructor pushed him to his limit time and time again. The last saying he remembered from the old veteran, before they sadly passed, was Easy Training, Hard Battles, Hard Training, Easy Battles.
It hadn't seemed that way, but things were turning their way. The wood elves, the alliances made. All of it would turn into something good.
The elven general explains further: "There is the age old argument of heredity versus environment. The noble houses are what has kept us superior."
He speaks to Wil: "I am sure you could use the patronage of a noble house. Maybe you will consider pledging to our house."
The talk at court seems to be centered on your return and the new options that are open. One of the mages is heard to say: "There was a time when the dragons would burn all seagoing vessels. But the one you have would give them a run."
The queen joins you in your chambers later.
"What should you do next?"
Seltyn bows. My Lady.
I take it the Caduceus was returned to the wood elves with little trouble from Lady Fontina? Or, was she difficult about it?
Either way, I think the consensus among us is that we next strike a blow against the Rovagug cult. Admiral Windfavor once again has a vessel to be proud of, and a plan to attack one of their strategic strongholds with the help of our wood elf comrades.
If we succeed, the cult will know that the elves are once again uniting, and they won't like being weakened. It may also give the good folk of the region hope, and a better chance to resist them on other fronts.
Elorin has won a great deal of good will among the humans. A move like this would serve to strengthen that advantage, and build trust between ourselves and the wood elves.
What news can you give us of recent developments?
Elorin pauses for a moment as she enters her sleeping area. Her first instinct is to get angered that someone has been in there but when she saw the flowers and the chain shirt she stopped her temper. Smiling at the note. She hadn't thought for one moment that her state of mind had been noticed by anyone but her.
She went to find somewhere to bath and put on her best clothing. (her ceremonial dress most likely.) Doing up her hair and wearing what jewelry she had. She put on her new gear and went to find the group. She had enough of being alone.
She will attempt to find Wil to thank him in person and Eirel. She cringed at the idea of the bad impression she may have made on him on the ship. She hadn't even acknowledged him properly.
The Queen explains: "The cult has been active and has expanded along the coast. Derrick and Seaview have things in hand defensively, but they are still concerned that they will not escape notice from the other human governments. They are afraid they may be made an example of."
"Anyway, our military thought of striking at the Rovagug supplies. Windfavor wants to hire the wood elves to make a distraction to make it an easier mission."
Then we'll keep Seaview out of it. It can just be elves, retaliating for the cult's reckless destruction.
I'm good with it, if you are. We're ready.
If the Rovagug cultists are as dangerous as you are implying, then it makes sense to strike them in the supply chain. Deny your enemy food and they struggle. When do we move? I will need a moment to pack
He stood there panting heavily, his arms ached, his hands were sore and hell everything just ached! However his wooden opponent had survived intact and for the most part he was feeling good. Training was the best stress relief he knew, helped him to see things more clearly when he wasted his frustrations tiring his muscles.
Pledging to a noble house. Perhaps that would be good for the Foxes. But what does it require? Nothing comes without cost. He didn't think to take advantage of it for himself but if it turned out to be helpful to the group he would do it. The better prepared and supporting they were the more likely they would succeed. He picked up his gear and moved to wash up in his quarters before heading out to find General Amelion and see what this patronage required.
Seltyn will try to learn and copy Haste off the scroll he has. Can't cast it, but it'll be there if he makes it to 5th.
DC 18:
Kewl. 90 gp.
375 to get another one. I suggest we do.
EDIT: Sorry, should have been in the discussion thread. Just trying to guarantee a good repertoire for later. Haste is in the bag, and I'll get 2 more at 5th. If I were to attempt to learn it at 5th and failed, I couldn't try again until 6th. We don't want that...LOL!
After a few days to make arrangements and equip, the party is again ready to brave the unknown, in service to our kind.
We will arrive ready for all-out war.
May 1000 humans fall for every elf.
if you had a post planned you can say you found Wil or i can say i found you since we are in a sort of rp floating area. mainly because chainmail is traveling lol. bottom line with is i don't mind if you or anyone else posts an interaction with me as Wil isn't avoiding you guys or anything. ;-) just thought i would put that out there and make sure i wasn't stalling you. lol
After waiting for the wands to be created, Lady Ciedrel talks to the warleader of the wood elves and hires a company after they both travel magically to their camp and hire them. It turns out to be Wil's previous company the party met along the road.
The mercenary company poses as raiders in multiple small groups and draws a response from the Rovagug forces stationed at the critical supply point.
Windfavor prepares the ship and it is stocked with enough supplies for a month of traveling without any forage. As the ship sails, the sea elf introduces his companion, a young half-elf apprentice from Seaview who would like to learn from the admiral.
As the ship heads out, Windfavor explains his plan "Almost all of Rovagug cultists are supplied out of this port. There is single warehouse one of the human spies has told us is the focus of the higher ranking cultists. This is the one we need to go after. Time will be critical here, as this is mostly a raid. We cannot hold for an extended period of time. I am timing our arrival for twilight."
7 of us + wood elf + bannermaiden + Windfavor + apprentice =11. Right?
Oh, the ape makes 12.
Here's what I'm thinking:
We don't know the layout of the place, or how to get to it without getting killed first. Getting close to (or inside) the warehouse without getting spotted would be super duper. You can do anything but attack and stay invisible. Once it's gone, there ain't no more.
Get in without attacking anyone, steal or destroy the good stuff, fight our way out. We should probably burn the place down for good measure.
Tentative spell list:
0: 4 (DC 16): Dancing Lights, Detect Magic, Mage Hand, Message
1: 5+1/day (DC 17): Color Spray (works), Floating Disc (for 400 lbs. of stuff), Mage Armor, Shield (self), Magic Missile x2 (hurts somebody)
2: 3+1/day (DC 18): Acid Arrow (enemy caster), Blur(Eirel), Mirror Image (self), Scorching Ray
I've got nothing if we get attacked by archers.
Seltyn will be ready with the haste scroll when we hit combat. He can try the summon monster IV, too, if needed, or any other scrolls, if it comes to that.
Elorin can make up to 7 of us invisible, buff us, and still be firing Oneshot.
Suny can cast grease, and sneaks quite well.
Thalas has spell slots like Seltyn's. He might want to cast darkness at some point where we can still see and they can't. Have create water prepped for a ship fire, or to put out enemy torches.
Eirel can sneak attack within 30' with Blur up, and it doesn't go away. He could cast Shillelagh on a quarterstaff and do 3d6+1 per hit for 2 minutes, flanking or not.
Wil can use the wand of PFE, self-buff, and smite a caster, hopefully.
Azlain should be invisible, blessed, hasted, flanking, and in a nasty mood when he first attacks.
We had a little "practice run" where it was a big cast-fest. It's kinda like cooking. You time it so everything's hot and tasty when it hits the plate!
However we do this, we need a good idea of the scene. Cliff? Beach? Woods? No woods?
Wil was going to look into Patronage withthe General if it was beneficial for the group, if that time has passed or your trying to move things along we can revisit that the next time we are in Elfhome. ;)
Wil stood on deck, clad in his masterfully crafted field plate (Masterwork Banded Mail) the winged helm had several plumes that curved away from the backside. The plumes were a mass of golden eagle feathers that were secured to the back of the helm. The high plated pauldrons and the extended pieces of plating appeared like blades coming off his elbows. He looked fearsome now, worthy of charging into battle against the cultists and recovering what they could in the coming days.
He looked at too sea as he contemplated the coming raid. He'd really wished they had the numbers to burn the fort to the ground, or even take it in the name of Elfhome and set the cultists back a ways, but he knew deep down that eleven of them could not succeed at that especially when two were an apprentice to the admiral and a bannermaiden. No, they would strike as planned and if they were lucky they would sow destruction with blade and flame in their wake as they departed.
"We'll find you Tree Mother and return you home, I swear it."
As the Slipstream coasts up the river to the large port at the base of the a river delta, you notice parties of hundreds of human slaves dredging a large part of the river to make the channel wider in many places near the port. Windfavor is easily able to gauge where the deep waters are by the sight of the coast and the currents.
As he gets close, he trims the sails and manages to coast quietly into the busy commercial section of one of the largest ports you have ever seen. Jungle natives with bones and animal skins mix with people of primarily human stock as they rush to load and unload a multitude of cargo vessels. Most vessels are crude river rafts.
A native with tribal colors looks curiously at the boat, but seems to be less concerned when Windfavor tosses him a bag of coins. The harbormaster quickly pockets the coins and moves along elsewhere.
"Windfavor, where is the warehouse from here? Will you be alright here while we go, or would it be best if one or two stay with you to ensure we are able to escape?"
During the journey Azlain fashioned a sort of hammock-like seat for himself just above the sail. Strangely, it seemed that the only way he could avoid getting seasick was to put himself as high up as possible.
As the others made their way off the ship, he climbed up and set himself in his new favorite chair, his bow sitting across his knees and his wings flexing against the breeze as he kept watch over the ship.
The wood elf warleader is in the field with the army.
Windfavor and his apprentice will stay behind. The ape seems to get no more than a glance as pets the natives seem to have include alligators and monitor lizards.
You can see an assortment of restaurants and taverns bordering the docks. Directly inland on a rise is a collection of storehouses, commercial buildings, and what looks to be an ominous looking barracks directly across from the largest storehouse.
Given the time of day, many sailors are in revelry mode. There are many drunken sailors about in various stages of intoxication and song. It is no problem to slip into a group and head toward the storage buildings and guardhouse.
Also if someone asks who Wil is, he can't lie. He can chose to say nothing but yeah... Being a Paladin is difficult at times. LOL!
Wil readies his gear, taking only one fully loaded healing kit in an attempt to travel light. He shoulders his near empty pack though as he is prepare to snag anything valuable that didn't belong in the cultists hands. He strapped on his the magical bastard sword, his composite bow and let his warhammer hang off his belt as he prepared for the coming assault.
He doesn't make any attempt to hide what he appears, as heavily armed as he is he could pass for a mercenary of ill-repute. He makes a point of sticking close to Suny and Elorin, acting as a bodyguard for the scantily clad lady and the more regal looking lady. Anyone who gets any wise idea's finds him glaring down at them from behind his visor. He towers over most of the men on the dock and uses his size and fearsome looking armor to enhance his appearance...
Seltyn will cast mage armor on himself (40 min.) and remind everyone to keep their ears covered. He puts his hood up, and moves smartly.
Azlain should bring a few flasks of oil. We might want to burn things.
Let's put Eirel up front with the ape, then Azlain. Nobody has to talk to Wil that way. Wil guards the ladies, and Seltyn will follow.
Where's this warehouse?
Wil follows Seltyn's orders, acting as the silent sentinel for their female companions...
The warehouse is a about the equivalent of four city blocks away.
Traffic from the docks passes through a central pier to the shore and inland. Customs workers are watching those approaching for anything suspicious. You will join the line of people trudging from ships into town.
Elorin and Suny? Could you ladies please work your charms on the fine officials so we can go about our business?
Suny winks over her shoulder at Seltyn and approaches one of said 'Custom's Officials'.
"Here then mate, whut be tha' proceedings? Whut sort of welcome can a person expect, here in Port Royal?" She smiles, even as her hand reaches for her coin pouch.