This is the gameplay thread for my 5e conversion of Masks of the Living God. Our recruitment forum has given us two new additions! Just as a reminder, this is the gameplay thread, and so I ask that everyone try to post as their aliases.
Please remember and feel free to make use of spoilers if you're whispering to someone or leaving something specifically for me to look at, just be clear who you want to look at those spoilers.
Game rule discussions will be in the game discussion thread (to be created shortly) - feel free to point that you have a rules question in out of character comments, but try to keep them very minimal in this thread, they should basically say something like .
Unlike my postings for Crypt of the Everflame, the stage setting post won't come right away. The players in the original group are wrapping up that adventure. What I will be doing is posting a couple opportunities for Lodric and Hansyn to do some introductory roleplay that helps establish them prior to the return of the original party to Kassen.
I'm excited to have our new players joining us and we'll give them some opportunities to do some good grounding role play in Kassen shortly.
Are you ready? It's time.
D&D 5e conversion, part two of the trilogy: Masks of the Living God
Adventure Description:
Razmir the Living God used his power to conquer an entire country; now he and his mask-wearing priests enforce peace and generosity—though some say their tools are intimidation and fear. His worshipers preach charity and self-worth, blaming rival faiths for crafting lies about the glories of the Living God. Now the cult has come to the city of Tamran, feeding the poor and promising happiness to those who serve Razmir. Yet ugly rumors persist of bribery, extortion, and strange disappearances associated with the new temple. Are these stories just gossip and lies spread by rival faiths? Or is the church of the Living God more than it seems?
The story so far...
In the small town of Kassen, as Neth approaches, a traditional quest is undertaken each year to retrieve the Everflame—a symbol of hope in the community.
Most of the time, a group of town elders undertakes the task, but some years, the elders select a group of promising youth and send them to undertake the quest as a rite of passage. These youth typically become respected leaders, form lasting bonds of friendship, and strengthen the community at its core. Often they are young men and women of various races who the town might otherwise lose to the dream of adventure, who find after their quest that this small experience was enough.
This year the mood was jubilant as the town selected their hand-picked crew. Two young rangers set forward by Arnama, the town ranger. A gnome who lived nearby in a burrow, with whom the town thought to form a bond of friendship, a tavern singer and maid from the Seven Silvers and the aristocratic egotist who sought to claim leadership of the Vargidan sorcerers from Moltus, the elder patriarch of the family.
Two were left behind. A young messenger boy without any sorcery from the sprawling Vargidan family—he was deemed two young by the village elders (and too weak by his father). And a young business man from one of the logging families, whose father's trade delayed his arrival such that he came into town too late to join the company.
Celebrations were prepared! Soon the chosen would return. The two left behind were summoned as an escort and sent as far as the Gray Lake, for surely that was enough adventure for them, and told to bring the young chosen back.
But what they found was a tragedy. The chosen had done their duty, only to find the traditions of the town a sham. And worse, a sham that had gone terribly wrong. Dragging behind two survivors from the team who was meant to prepare their 'adventure' for them, the chosen recovered the Everflame. But as its eternal flame brought warmth and hope into the community, so also did their arrival herald loss. For two survivors made up only a small part of the townsfolk who prepared the ritual for the chosen of the town.
As the town celebrates, the chosen and their escorts present their evidence. A playbill. A mask. Some coins. The testimony of Asar, the enemy of the village, and of Kassen, it's hero.
Reluctantly, the mayor and his elders make a decision. The chosen are still needed. Those who are willing are asked to meet the wizard Holgast in his tower, and a Pathfinder, Cygar in two days.
Those two days have now passed. Each of you has received an invitation to join Holgast in his tower this very evening, from a reluctant Hansyn. Reluctant, but with the sort of spry step that fails to hide that he too was invited. The meeting is but hours away, and it is hard not to note that the celebration of hope that carries your community through the winter is muted.
You have noted that Arnama's patrols have increased. Curiously, you have not been summoned to fill out that roster, and it is being stretched.
A room is prepared for you at the Seven Silvers, and your friends have told you of the meeting with the town elders. But the discussion of the mask gives you shivers. The carvings in your burrow, and the feeling of the menhir have foretold a foreboding danger, and this mask is somehow at the center of it.
It's nice to see Venssa again, when she arrives complaining of many humans stomping too loudly through her forest. It's many words for the quiet gnome, and while you know those humans are just patrols from the town, it's easy to guess that patrols have been increased. Jocyn has saved you from entertaining for the past several days, but the Seven Silvers has been busy. Scared people who might eat alone in their homes are seeking the comfort of community, and friends with whom to grieve.
You're almost surprised when the young Vargidan messenger boy hands you the fine cream invitation. Certainly you were there when the chosen delivered their report, but surely that was the end of it. Your father's most recent attempt at foisting you off on something other than your ledgers was done. And yet it seems not to be so. Especially when you take the card and feel the celestial presence in your mind whispering.
On the other hand... You've discovered that the Masked God, Razmir came out of the River Kingdoms only decades ago, after having passed the Test of the Starstone. He's carved himself out a kingdom there that is essentially a theocracy, and sends his masked priests into other kingdoms to spread word of the Living God.
You've also discovered that most everything about Razmir carries the stamp of having been "scrubbed" as though some concerted effort has been made to rewrite everything about him. Passages will read in one way and then suddenly change for a sentence or two and then go back to the way they were. If the sentences are forgeries, they are good ones, and the effort has been extraordinary.
Dot
After the night of return, Finlogan relaxes. The first day, he awakes drenched in sweat and dehydrated from too much alcohol. He hopes his memories are actually a nightmare until he sees his new suit of chain mail. The half elf spends the day performing chores and repairs of his mum’s cottage showing how his love.
After supper with his mum, he heads to the Silvers. He spends the evening with Cole, Aldelenna and Venssa.
Venssa arrival in town was one of both happiness and dread. She was very happy to see her friends again, but the news that she carried about the mask and what it might mean to the community gives he chills.
That night, Finlogan commiserates with Cole, Venssa, and Aldelenna: his older brother, his older sister, and uh what could she be? Relax. He knows they would be traveling together again. He had waited this long before trying anything. What if it doesn’t work out? Arnama had always discouraged her rangers becoming more than friends, because of the awkward emotions that would complicate the patrol. So, he just tries to treat her respectfully like Venssa, but his awkwardness is obvious to most anyone, including himself.
That night, he starts awake. A nightmare image of Cole, Venssa and Aldelenna gruesomely killed in battle lying around him burns in his mind. A plate armor and masked wearing villain standing before him pointing his Longsword at him shakes him with fear to his core.
After a few seconds of blinking in the night, he realizes that his own Longsword floated in front of him point first. When the blade does not plunge into him, it floated to his grasp as he hoped it would. He slowly and quietly places the sword on the floor wondering what had happened.
The next morning he meets Venssa to walk together in the quiet, cool sunrise. They walked together in comfortable silence. Occasionally, he points out some local memory-filled landmarks. Finally, he finds the leaves that he saw Arnama use for her special traveling cocktail. He collects enough for his family.
Cole spend time with Fin, Venssa, and Adelenna, enjoying their company as they prepared for their meeting with the wizard. It appears as if the time had come for them to venture forth again, this time did not feel the same.
This made them true adventurers, not kids playing at an adults game. They were now part of the game, and the hunt was to begin soon.
Aldelenna gives all of her friends massive hugs, squeezing them just as tight as she can. When she hugs Fin she gives him a light kiss on his strong neck. "I'd love to stay and visit my friends, but The Silvers has been busier than usual. Anything I can get you all? Food? Drink? Trelvar's promised I'll get off from work in time to go with you all to Holgast's. Jimes is going to cover for me." She reassures them, one hand playing, as ever, wistfully with the lone red strand of ringlet curls that never wants to stay tucked behind her slightly pointed ears.
Hansyn has tried to stay busy these two days. Learning more about the original owners of the mask Rankev carried, carrying missives from time to time, and preparing for a journey that he believes is going to be asked to go on. The two days however still seemed like an eternity. Another hour might as well be a year.
He finds himself secluded, close to Holgast’s tower but still some distance. Reciting the words to the novice spell that he had learn while perusing Holgast’s libraries. A green flame dances down his blade as if it will jump off. He rubs his hind quarters and winces slightly as he remembers the cost of knowledge. He was not a sorcerer though. He resigned himself, he was something else. He had found a way to perform magic anyway. He would show his family that he is strong. Stronger than any of them.
Happy to see all her friends, Venssa hugs Aldelenna tightly before she leaves for work, slipping an enchanted berry into her apron so she will have something to eat while working.
"So tell me, have you discovered more about that mask? I know we will be travelling to find out more, but what have I missed while I was away?"
The few days since your return have passed uneventfully.
Life in town slowly returns to normal, though the townsfolk seem jumpy. They are wary of the dark, as though afraid, even here at the heart of Kassen, that some overlooked undead fiend might stalk from the crypt and attack.
Roldare's condition is alarmingly unstable, varying from simply subdued to raving madly. Dimira is doing her best to care for him, but you know it will be a long time before any sense of normalcy returns to that particular family.
Invited to the tower of Holgast, town sage and wizard, you have gathered.
Or rather most of you have gathered.
Indeed, it seems Roldare was not alone in being affected. Your comrade in arms, Rankev, has, quite scandalously, absconded with one of old Moltus's best horses and the young lady Yvette of the guard, and headed west along the river toward Skelt, leaving Luthos the heir presumptive... that is, unless Zandre comes to terms with the voices in his head, which seems unlikely.
What's worse (for you, maybe better for him!) he's left everything that was even remotely a clue with his little brother Hansyn!
At the tower, you are welcomed by Turik, one of the apprentices. You've seen him before, along with several of the youth of the town, he frequents the Seven Silvers.
Turik takes your cloaks, those of you willing to part with them, and guides you to up a stair that winds along the wall of the lopsided tower to a second level, and from there into a long room that you guess takes about half the space of the tower. The room is lined with bookcases but its most central feature is a large table, where Jonark (the Mayor), Holgast, and the stranger Cygar stand, looking at map of Nirmathas and the surrounding kingdoms.
They seem engrossed in their examination. Turik has left you alone without even the promise of refreshment. What do you do?
Looking around the room, Hansyn is surprised and disappointed that Arnama is not present. Gripping his backpack that has the items that Rankev left on his bed, Hansyn clears his throat and asks the question foremost on his mind. ”Where is Arnama?”
Finlogan didn't know if they would leave immediately, so he brought all of his gear. The most awkward is his new suit of chain mail rolled up and tied to his pack.
Upon entry to the tower, the half-elf ranger hands Turik his cloak and stows the rest of his weapons and gear with it. He still wears his chain shirt under his tunic and belts his longsword, because he doesn't feel that safe in town anymore. And, He feels more comfortable with the weight of the two than without them.
Entering the library, he soaks up the scene and then joins the men at the table to examine the map. As a ranger, he first attempts to find familiar landmarks, and then starts to trace the route to their destination.
Cole also leans over the map with Fin. He allows his natural explorer capabilities to take over as he examines the map and says briefly.
Please point out the destination so Fin and I can map us a way.
Aldelenna, unlike her more military companions, waits at the threshold of the room to be acknowledged and welcomed into the men's counsel. She twists at her always stray strand of red ringlets, and then says, in a very mild volume. "Ahem... Gentlemen? I believe you brought us here for some reason, yes?"
Venssa enters and after glancing at the map, goes to sit quietly off to one side.
"You're meant to go into the room." The voice comes from Arnama, who stands at the door. "Yes, Hansyn, I'm here. There's no need to be alarmed. It takes extra time to oversee the patrols. My scouts are tired, and they sense a restlessness, but they see nothing unusual, save a few signs at the very edge of our boundaries, that verify that indeed the tomb robbers came in by the lake, and camped there. The signs are too old to track, but they found this." She drops a copper coin on the table. Like the other coins you found in the tomb, it is freshly minted, but this is one is dirty.
"Lost in a game of chance?" asks Cygar.
Arnama moves to the table. "Aye. That would be my guess."
"The evidence is damning, Jonark. It must be investigated. Even without the questionable testimony of the ghosts—"
"That's our town founder!" growls the mayor, pounding a fist into the table.
Arnama sits. Her gesture for the rest of you to do the same is subtle, but noticeable only on your side of the table. The men continue to stare at the map. "Come, boys. Obviously you brought our town chosen here for a purpose. Or does it delight you to obfuscate." It's not a word Arnama would normally use. But those of you who know her can tell she's needling Holgast.
"Well," says Cygar, "Which of you has it. It's the crux of the problem. The mask."
Hansyn, feeling ignored, watched the others move into the room and begin staring at the map. He was about to repeat his question defiantly when Arnama’s familiar voice came from behind him. Reassured by her presence, Hansyn enters and comes to the table with the others.
He remains quiet for the time being, staring at the large map. When prompted, he unloads the mask from his backpack. ”It belonged to a worshiper of Razmir, the Masked God.”. He said plainly, attempting to show the others that he had a right to be at the table as well.
Cole, content with his mind's re collection of every detail of the map, smiles at Arnama, then sits in a relaxed manner with his legs stretched out before him and arms crossed upon his chest.
Cygar raises an eyebrow. "Capable of reading a book, I see." He glances around the table. "The boy is right. This is the mask of a worshiper of Razmir. The worship of the Masked God has grown across the lake in the River Kingdom that he claimed as his own. It is now known only as Razmiran, and others are wise not to dispute it."
"About the cult, little is truly known. Those who write books on it turn up missing, their works altered. The work is subtle enough to escape a quick turn of the page, but not enough to trick a studious eye." Holgast groans as he sits back in his chair. "It makes all I know of them suspect. They could be workers of light as the books say, or—"
"They are dangerous," says Arnama. "A cult that spreads like a disease."
Cygar nods. "Pathfinders are adventurers and treasure hunters. There is a part of me that aches to see this treasure that your founder described. And yet that warning, and the fact that both the bearers of these amulets, this key, haunted after death, worries me."
Arnama looks squarely at Cole and Finlogan. "As rangers, your job is to patrol beyond the borders of Kassen and protect it from danger. Sometimes that danger is farther than two days hike from the wall."
Looking at the map, Jonark nods. "It's clear, if nothing else, that these bandits stole from our founder, and perhaps seek to raise something evil in a quest for gold. It may be that the work of the Masked God is involved. I do not know that they are evil, or simply a budding religion. Iomedae was newly divine once, too. But I cannot risk it going uninvestigated." He looks around the room. "We're agreed then."
It doesn't take a genius to realize that he's speaking to elders in the room, to Cygar and Arnama and Holgast. When each of them has nodded, he looks to Lodric, who has stayed quiet in his Taldane suit.
"It seems you have a quest to endure as a chosen of Kassen after all, Lodric. Cygar has learned that the Black Mist will be traveling to Tamran, arriving here in Kassen tomorrow."
"Ingot from Skelt?" Lodric says, his manner going from distracted to business-like in an instant.
"Indeed." Cygar nods approvingly. "By barge the journey to Tamran is only six days. Captain Walren is an old associate of your father. I should be able to convince him to take you as passengers. Seasoned rangers are always a welcome hedge against the dangers of the journey, and, of course, it'd mean your father owing him a favor."
"I have no right to trade my father's favors."
"But your father owed us one," Jonark said plainly.
"And your passage secures the boy's, and Aldelenna's. Venssa is passable as a companion to Fin and Cole, you can see how her comfort changes near Fin. But Hansyn is a boy. Without you, his passage becomes a question. With you, it looks like he's simply a courier for the company, a message boy sent with the merchant's son on business." Arnama stands. "Besides, Holgast and I listened to what your father said. We weren't solely doing him a favor to recommend you to the chosen. Now you have a chance to show your mettle. As does Hansyn."
The grumble from the mayor is certainly "I still think he's too young." But he swallows it under Arnama's glare.
Forgetting his place for a moment and perhaps even proving the mayor’s point, Hansyn responds. ”Yeah? Maybe you’re too old.” A quick pause is all it takes for the boy to realize his mistake, but decides to double down on the quip and stand his ground. ”Besides, my brothers where both older and neither on was up to the task. Maybe it has nothing to do with my age at all. ”
Finlogan lets the youth's petulant comments land flat on the table. After a few seconds, he summarizes, "So, you want us to take the Black Mist to Tamran and investigate this cult and the tavern where the tomb raiders were hired. Try to find Kassen's amulet."
"Cole, Venssa and I travel together. Lodric, Aldelenna and the boy travel together." He nod toward toward Lodric respectfully acknowledging him, because they really don't know each other.
"Is there any other information you know? For example, what's the real story of Asar? What to think those two amulets are and do?"
Aldelenna listens patiently, neither excited nor dreading an adventure on the river to Tamran. With Fin, Cole, and Venssa, she feels safe enough. They've proven that together they are a strong force for good. Yet Lodric and Hansyn have still to prove their worth. Yet she cannot fault them for it. It was only scant weeks ago she was untested as well. She nods when Fin asks his questions, wondering the same things.
Venssa nods in agreement and blushes slightly as Arnama points out her feeling relaxed near Fin.
She is surprised when they mention the two additions and frowns as Hansyn's outburst removes any doubt that his age might become a problem.
Holgast leans forward. "Quiet, boy. Your place is safe enough. Be grateful the mayor at least shows concern. It is more than your father chose to do." He sets a finger over Kassen on the map.
"Asar Vergas was a prince of bandits, a mercenary. But before this, he was an adventurer, and a successful one. His companions were a former soldier of Lastwall, Ekat Kassen, our town's revered founder, and an elven sorceress whose name had been lost to history until you gave it, from the ghostly revelation of our revered founder himself—Iramine."
Holgast sits back in his seat.
"Of Ekat Kassen after his days of adventure, we know much. He took his fortune and founded a settlement, Kassen's Hold, which over time grew larger and became this very town. With Lastwall holding the line to the north and the Fangwood forming a natural border that keeps Molthune distant, we have been isolated from the worst of trouble, save only for one instance near the founding that almost destroyed us. This you know of, for you are the chosen, who recovered the Everflame at the crypt where Kassen died, defending his home from a man he'd once considered his brother."
"They say Asar Vergas was jealous of Ekat's share of the fortune, spent well and carefully, and that Asar himself had wasted his away. But if the words of a ghost can be trusted, we know now that it was in search of this amulet, which can be seen in every statue and painting of the man. And which we now know Asar himself was buried with one very like. The amulets point the way, but you must have them all."
Cygar nods. "And now someone collects them. Whoever it is has two, for your findings show they escaped with both amulets. I have pored over the pathfinder records I have available. I can find no mention of Iramine. So I must trust what we have, a tiny bit of text in an old journal left by Kassen here."
"Fat bit of useless that is," put in Jonark. "Written in Kassen's own hand, I know the hand of our founder enough to say that. But all it says is this: 'And now we part ways, us three. Adventurers no more. Asar will never rest, his head is too much in joy of battle and gold. I weep for a brother I have lost. As for Iramine, she travels north, towards the River Kingdoms. A dangerous place, but it is not for me to warn a witch such as her. Perhaps she will yet find fortune, for she is of elven blood and has many lifetimes of man ahead of her. As for me, I return to where I started and go south. The river there is a beautiful place, and ripe for trade, laying as it does between the great lake and Skelt. I shall take the fortune I have raised and build there, and maybe they will remember my name.'"
Arnama shook her head. "Iramine's trail is two centuries old, and makes little sense to follow when a trail leads to Tamran." She glares at Cole and Finlogan. "I expect you to trace this threat and ensure it never again follows to Kassen. Hansyn is a boy, but he can be useful. Half this information he gathered 'ere any of you walked in the room. See how he sits? He's plundered the old sage's own tomes to find it. Paid a price, too, and claimed no glory for it."
"The barge will take you to Tamran faster and safer than any trip through the Fangwood." Cygar draws a line along the river and then down the shore of the lake. "About six days. My contact there is a ranger, Reginar. Go to Tamran, learn what you can of the tomb raiders and their connection to this mask. Recover the amulets if you can, so that they can be removed to safety."
"The Black Mist arrives tomorrow," The mayor still seems uncertain. "With you on board, young Lodric, we should be able to assure the passage of Aldelenna and young Hansyn. And of course it will be no difficulty to convince a seasoned barge captain to take on rangers on such a journey. You'll still travel together, but the two groups remains a useful fiction. In a city, with such a motley group, you may need such fictions."
"Cygar will see you off. The rest of us would seem too official. Make ready and say any goodbyes you have need to say." Arnama turns to go.
You may trust in us, Arnama...as always.
Cole nods to the others, takes note of the contact in Tamran - another ranger, and stands by the door waiting for the others to say goodbye.
”Aye. Sounds like a plan. What does this Regniar look like?”. With that answer, Finlogan is ready to retire for home and leave on the morrow.
Satisfied with Arnama’s defense of him, Hansyn draws up his backpack and readies to leave the map room. Resigned to another century of waiting, the boy figures he will die of old age before this adventure actually starts. He thinks to himself, ”Maybe I have time to sneak into the library to learn a new spell.“ but feeling the welts on his but that are almost healed, he considers otherwise.
Waiting for all of her companions to lead the way, Aldelenna mumbles to Fin as they leave the tower, "I'll need to square things away with Trelvar again. With all this coming and going, I might just have to quit my position at the Silvers?" She says biting her lip with more than a bit of trepidation at giving up the only solid source of legitimate income she's ever had. Stealing wealth has never been too much a problem for her, taking from the arrogant rich, to feed the humble poor, has been part and parcel of her life for years unnumbered, but that was always the easier with the guise of legitimate employment and entertainment income. Yet, it was the life of adventure that called her forth before, and that same spirit calls her forth now. On the river with her friends, sailing to parts unknown, sounds all too exciting to pass up. Then she says to all of her traveling companions, old and new, "Come by the Silvers tonight, if you can, we can break bread, and get to know one another a bit better before we set sail on the morrow."
Yes, I was planning to do just that. I hope you all can make it.
Hansyn steps through the Silver’s doors that night unsure of what to expect.
It would probably be wise to do something about spells... I will share that you are unlikely to find another source directly in the adventure, though you will be in a city, so there are off the page ways to find something. That said, it's a spell book... wheedling it away from Turik won't be easy.
It's hardly a surprise when Trelvar is indisposed... too much so to even consider talking to. It's Asina who fields your request. You can feel the weight on her shoulders. She's clearly been pressured to make this okay for you by the village elders, but without Trelvar, and with Jocyn so often joining him drunk, she is going to struggle.
It's Jimes who reassures you. The ever cheerful halfling seems to be taking everything in stride and seems sure he can press a young layabout into service as a busboy.
He winks as he says it. "Just gives Luthos and I more to look at while he's bent over cleaning tables."
Not the picture you really wanted to leave town with, but at least you know one of the people in your life is cheerful about it.
In truth, Asina seems happy for you, and you're half sure she's ready to beg to come herself. But just at that moment of decision, Asina's eyes make their way to the back, where Trelvar is passed out.
Then she says to all of her traveling companions, old and new, "Come by the Silvers tonight, if you can, we can break bread, and get to know one another a bit better before we set sail on the morrow."
Lodric nodded at this. "I would like that." It was the first thing he had said since the group had entered the tower. His mind was still swimming with the information. Just hearing about the masked "god" caused something within him to react with anger. He assumed it was the voice, and the sacrilege that the charlatan propagated. He could feel the calling, demanding that he continue on this path, even though logically he knew that he had every right to return home.
"It would indeed be best to know you all as something besides just the Heroes of this town." He said with a smile.
After Finlogan receives the description of their contact, he departs with his new companions carrying his chainmail strapped backpack. He whispers a reply to Aldelenna that it will be alright.
Four steps beyond the tower threshold, Finlogan remembers his dream and says, ”I’ll meet you at the Silvers tonight.”. He turns back to the tower stowing his pack and cloak to their familiar location and returns to the map room.
”Master Holgast, do you have some time for me?” The wizard nods and escorts them to his private sanctum. Once secluded, Finlogan replays his dream and demonstrates his mage hand.. Holgast sagely nods at the potential doom of the mission. The wizard heads to chest and removes a small leather bound book.
”I have something here for you. Your father wanted you have this when you were old enough, but Arnama wouldn’t allow it. She feared that you would seek the easy path to magic and forget to learn about your surroundings. Your father’s traveling spell book. Not as dusty as some of my tomes, but an elegant book from a more civilized age.”
“It appears his magic is already starting to seep through you. If you study it, the magic will become easier to control and bend to your will. Travel safe, son of Finarfin.” Holgast personally escorts him to the tower the door again, gently pushing him from the nest.
Finlogan stows the spell book in his pack and heads home to tell his mum.
Later, he meets up with his companions at the Silvers as arranged. Something is different about him. Maybe it’s a confidence. Maybe it’s a haze of magic just at the edge of your senses. But, his mum Mag knows that it’s a foundation and connection to his father that Finlogan has finally created in the present.
The mood in the Silvers is somber, and yet there is still celebration. While the deaths of the townsfolk at the crypt have affected many, the town is large enough for some to celebrate simply for not having the grim specter of death strike close to home.
Jocyn, the bard, is strangely sober, and playing not to the somber, but to brighten the spirits and soothe the soul.
Jimes is making a pretty penny and making his coin honestly tonight, though it's hard not to notice that his biggest tipper is the half orc in the Taldane suit... Luthos, who with Rankev gone is heir presumptive despite his few years. Perhaps it has made him confident. His gaze upon the halfling is no longer so surreptitious.
Trelvar isn't exactly sober, and the bags under his eyes speak of too many nights with too much alcohol, but he's sober enough to work the bar, leaving Asina, for once, to mingle with the other youth.
Gimble and Turik sit at the table with Asina and they look a little mournful. Rankev didn't flee alone, he took Yvette, their friend. Turik looks sad, Gimble angry.
Asina seems to be cheering them both with real drink that youth are seldom offered.
Arnama sits by the fire. She will be leaving soon on patrol, and it is a bittersweet knowledge for those of you who know her, for it means you shan't see her again before you leave. Despite this, loneliness shrouds her like a cloak, and it's clear she has no wish to be disturbed.
The mayor has been through once already, calming and uplifting, but has since departed on some errand of business.
There are whispers and looks from the townsfolk. Has word gotten out? You cannot help but wonder. Is all adventuring goodbyes?
Venssa, seeing Arnama sitting by the fire, hesitantly approaches.
"Ummm...miss? Could I have a word? I was wondering if you might be able to check on my cave while I am gone...and please be kind to the animals around my home...they come there for shelter and protection."
Venssa, Cole and Aldelenna cannot remember when they have ever seen Finlogan behaving like he is tonight. Back straight. Small grin on his face. Eyes relaxed such that the world might actually revolve around him.
He genuinely laughs at stories and has his flute by his mug ready to play like usual. However, something has changed. More than the crypt. More than the Pathrfinder pep talk.
Jimes reassurance does little to assuage Aldelenna's fears that Asina will be soon overwhelmed without her there. Jocyn's present sobriety is welcome, but still, she cannot but wonder how long it will last. Seeing Asina mingling with some of the town's well reputed youth, gives her an idea. When her work permits, she stops by the table with Asina, Turik, and Gimble. She says, "You know Asina, I think Turik and Gimble would make fine staff here at the Silvers, don't you? They are well liked by the people, have a solid reputation for good work, and ambitious spirits. They could wait tables and serve, simultaneously, as stalwart guards. Hmmmm, just a thought. Ohp, gotta get back to work." Aldelenna winks at the two as she strides back to sling drinks and words with Asina's customers.
That evening Hansyn joins the others. Uncomfortable to say the least, he doesn’t say a lot but mostly listens and observes. He knows Aldellena well enough from thier meetings here at the Silver’s but Cole, Fin, and Lodric were relatively foreign to him.
Hansyn notes th most marked difference in Finn from the night at the campfire to now. Perhaps he was not going to be as diffcult to deal with as he initially thought. Cole, he was fine. Hansyn always expects dwarves to be somewhat abbrasive. Lodric was an enigma. He had surprised Hansyn with his magic out at the lake. Who knew what else he had in store.
By the end of the night, Hansyn had a good feeling about the trip. In conversation, Fin mentioned a book given to him by Holgast, that it had been his father’s spellbook. Hansyn was concerned how he would continue learning new spells, and this book may be the answer to his concerns. He would need to get on Fin’s good side so the elf might let a young man such as himself take a look at the book from time to time.
All in all, Hansyn felt that this trip was the beginning of something important. When he returned victorious with the others, Arnama wouldn’t look at his as a boy anymore.
The mood at the Seven Silvers cheers, slowly as the night progresses. The townsfolk are emboldened by the presence of the young heroes, and it shows in their exuberance.
And yet it is clear. There is some unsettling danger left by the founder. A danger you have been charged to find. And while Asina does her best to persuade Turik and Gimble that they should avail themselves of work at the Seven Silvers (in exchange for access to liquors they'd never otherwise have access to at their young age ... and some modest pay), it is clear few others are aware the heroes mean to depart.
Some of the guard and the rangers seem to know. It seems so in the odd looks they give the group. Perhaps they've been asked to cover for Fin or Cole. Perhaps they miss Yvette who fled to the west with your recalcitrant sorcerer.
On the morrow you depart. Save for Lodric and Cole, none of you have ventured more than three days from Kassen. Even Cole simply moved from another village to this one, seeking to escape a legacy about which he seldom speaks.
Lodric has lived a life aboard the barges, moving lumber with his father, carefully examining contracts, accounting. But beyond agreeing to eat with you tonight, he has been quiet.
Soon the embers of the fire will dwindle. Only those too deep in their cups to walk home unaided remain.
Perhaps the lure of home is too great, but it feels hard to leave the fire.
Cole wakes early to prepare for the journey. He is found sitting at the rivers edge near the barge they will soon depart upon.
"So Lodric, how do you defend yourself? If you were facing an undead knight trying to kill you, what would you do?" Finlogan asks the new guy.
He has already assess that Hansyn is a kid to be protected and kept away from danger.
"What would I do? Well...I..."
He looked sheepish, talking to Finlogan. The half-elf ranger was quite obviously the larger of the two. Lodric was not strong, nor was he tough. He wasn't even particularly fast. To any who saw the two, it was obvious on which one was the warrior. It was obvious on which one had the most experience.
"I would use my magic. I haven't had to do it before, but I can create a bolt of light. I've practiced with it, and it has...quite an effect."
He then pulled out his book. It was a small, unassuming thing. "And with my...err...spellbook, here. I can adapt my magic to the task at hand. Be it a fireball, or ice. Though, I'm not very good at using those. The light comes much more naturally to me. But if that does not work, I do have options."
Then, with a small smile, he said "But that is only if it was far enough away for me to blast it apart. If it was close to me and trying to kill me? I'd probably just make myself invisible, and then fight it on my own terms. Does that answer suffice? What would...I mean, what have you done? You look like you have had to answer this question for yourself before."
"Yes, we faced an undead knight. I decapitated it, but everyone did there part."
"So, you're a magic user like Rankev. Good to know. Behind Cole and me, you should have room to cast your spells." Finlogan replies.
As Fin and Lodric converse on the shore you can see the slow and steady movement of a river barge. Heavily laden with ingot from Skelt, its pace is ponderous, yet still swift compared to a horse. Other dangers aside, it's probably less dangerous than the deeper wood that travel overland would mean. The forest is old, and fey creatures far more cantankerous and ancient than Venssa dwell within.
Fully twenty feet wide, the barge is a simple vessel, meant for a small crew. This one appears to have a crew of only two men. Lodric spies Captain Walren at once. Dwarf captains are not common, and Walren stands out next to the scarred Kellid man that you would guess serves as his deckhand. Naked from the waist up, even in the cold, and still bare foot on the deck, the Kellid leaps from the barge with a coil of rope, tying it quickly to the posts. The small deck rocks as the barge tugs on the massive coils, until, with a groan, it stops.
Along side, in tangled gray script, the barges name Black Mist is spelled out.
Coming to the edge of the barge, the dwarf carries more coils of rope, which he tosses to the muscled deckhand. Slowly the barge is pulled closer until the dwarf finally lowers a ramp and descends. He turns to the Kellid, making motions towards his mouth. "Get food."
Tossing unkempt hair about the Kellid grunts, but heads off.
The dwarf turns and looks Fin and Cole up and down. "You're the extra cargo, huh?" He glances at Lodric. "If it weren't for that bet two summers past, I'd never do this. But your father is an old friend, and Cygar wrote me that you have need to get to Tamran. With a messenger bird! Must have bribed some wayward druid to do it for him."
Cole Hillman's the name. Will you be docked long?
"Captain Walren. Not much to be captain of, sure, but she's mine." He glances back at the barge and smiles, than turns to Cole. "My deckhand, Ewem, just went to get food supplies. I had enough for us, but with passengers, we'll need more. I don't expect he'll be gone longer than it takes you to get settled. Seem to be missing a few of you, yet. I take it you're not all early rising rangers?"
"Aye, Captain Walren. I'm Finlogan. Another of Arnama's rangers." Finlogan offers his hand in greeting.
Then, he stands away to let the others introduce themselves.
Lodric nodded. He remembered the dwarf, vaguely. His father had hosted more than a few over the years while doing business.
”It is good to see you again. I will be sure to tell father of your hospitality when I see him next. I trust business is well for you and your clan? Oh, and I have learned something of the magical arts since I saw you last. Basic healing, mending, that sort of thing. If there is anything I can do to help on the ship, please say so.”
Pleasantries. He thought to himself. He knew that this would certainly come up when father had to haggle next. He threw in the part about magic mostly because he wanted it brought up to father. If he could show it’s worth, then maybe the old man would change his mind? Or at the very least it would embarrass him, which was a close consolation.