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"You'll forgive me for not getting all broken up over this parting," Tahllana remarks. "I've only known you for a few days. You are both brave warriors, however, and it has been an honor to fight alongside you." She nods to Maysalkirii and Narses.
It has been my honour too, Tahllana. Maysalkirii says, bowing stiffly. May your arrows fly true and slay dozens of the Red Hand. Farewell.
Shalani solemnly gifts Maysalkirii with two vials of Alchemist's Fire.
"Here, I'm sure you'll know what to do with these. Try not to burn any forests down, if you can help it."
Narses fold his arms and stares into the fire with a stony mask on his face as the good-byes are said. Staring into the fire he refuses to meet anyones eye and a tear can be seen streaking down one check wich he quickly wipes away, grumbling somthing about sparks and ash in the air.
With heavy hearts, the party says goodbye to their two stoic warriors. Maysalkirii and Narses bid goodbye to their comarades, their elven hosts, then depart westward through the forest toward the Wyrmsmoke Mountains to take their fight to the Red Hand horde. With sadness, Dragox realizes that he alone is the sole remaining original member of the Silversong Champions.
Mid-morning, you are approached by Killar Arrowswift. He seems somewhat less forward and confident than you usually see him. "I, I have a request for you. But perhaps you will see it as an opportunity, I do not know. I cannot help but notice that two members of your party have left your company. I can see that you do much good for the entire Vale, and wish you help you. I must stay with my village, but there is another who might be of service to you. There is a young man in our village named Kor'Lyn. He is very capable, if somewhat headstrong. He is... there isn't a politer way to say it, a half-human. It has been difficult for him to be a full member of the tribe, and he has trouble putting people at ease. I wouldn't say it is his fault, but I think he hasn't done very much to help people accept him more." Killar rubs the bridge of his nose, "But that is neither here nor there. He is a capable young man, and someone I believe who could be of great help to your cause. Would you be willing to meet him?"
Please remind me, how did you want to introduce Juce?
"If he would be interested in raising arms against this evil, I would be happy to meet him. We need any help we might be able to secure."
You would know Kor'Lyn as a fairly recent arrival to the tribe- at least by Elven years. Hes somewhat of a local boogeyman for the Elven children, being extremely tall and pale and clearly having a penchant for skulduggerry. He came to the tribe at the request of his human mother, who revealed on her deathbed that she wanted him to live with his Elven family. His father is Killar Arrowswift, although hes often reluctant to speak on such matters. He is different to most Elves in many ways- he favours a deadly looking crossbow over the more traditional bows and he has been known to poison his bolts. The rift between him and the tribe is not helped by the fact that despite his 'mere thirty-four seasons' he is the most accomplished wizard in the tribe, sneering down at his elders struggling with spells he mastered over a decade ago. He would probably be known to Tahllana and vice versa, and would probably actually have a measure of respect for her arcane prowess.
Mocking and somewhat unnerving laughter reverberates around you as Killar finishes his speech. An exceptionally tall and thin half-elf with pale features materialises from thin air. He wears several platinum rings on his fingers and wears a glowing suit of elven chainmail with an ornate, mithril buckler strapped loosely to his arm. He is garbed in the tribe's colours and wears a long flowing cloak in the style of an Elf, but even to the casual glance he stands out as different among the tribe. One noticeable difference is the crossbow hung over his shoulder; a vicious looking weapon that is rarely used by such tribes. His thin and seemingly weak figure looks as though it should crumble under the weight he carries in equipment, yet he stands tall and moves swiftly; clearly some magic is at work here. His posture bitter and his words cutting, he addresses Killar Arrowswift.
"Young man?" Most would introduce the seed of their lions as "my son", dear father... Mayhap if mine ears pointed to the sky like yours and I rode one of your oversized furballs, you would introduce me as such.
The newcomer bows to the group.
I am Kor'Lyn Arrowswift; and before I came to the tribe a year ago I adventured and travelled through much of Avistan. Your battle against the Red Hand is far more proactive than my father and his coward council have been so far- I would indeed request to join your little sojourn. I'm sure Tahllana can give me a recommendation- don't listen to the other Elves on matters of the arcane. Aside from Tahllana here, they have as much talent between them as a bunch of hedge wizards in a reading club...
Killar clenches his jaw as Kor'Lyn makes his introduction. He is obviously exerting himself to keep control. "You make a very poor case for your neighbors, Kor'Lyn. As you can see, he and I have had strained relations. I am not interested in dwelling on our past, so I will simply say that he is competent in what he does. If you like, we could-"
Killar Arrowswift is cut off by sounds of shouting from the ground. "I said unhand me! I wasn't trespassing and I'm not with the horde! I am here for the Silversong Champions!" Looking down, you see a human male bound in fetters being led by several elven hunters toward the rope ladders leading up to the village.
Tahllana looks slightly amused at Kor'Lyn's sudden and flamboyant appearance. "Still specializing in 'burning bridges,' I see," she remarks to him. "Can't imagine why they'd be glad to see the back of you." She turns to the others. "He's better than you think: almost lives up to his own billing. I wouldn't say no to more arcane resources -- we certainly could have used them against that damned Wyrmlord -- but he won't take the place of the goblin and the human when there's nothing to fall back on but strength of arms."
She is interrupted by the approach of the shouting prisoner. "Friend of yours?" she asks Dragox and Narses.
Tahllana looks slightly amused at Kor'Lyn's sudden and flamboyant appearance. "Still specializing in 'burning bridges,' I see," she remarks to him. "Can't imagine why they'd be glad to see the back of you." She turns to the others. "He's better than you think: almost lives up to his own billing. I wouldn't say no to more arcane resources -- we certainly could have used them against that damned Wyrmlord -- but he won't take the place of the goblin and the human when there's nothing to fall back on but strength of arms."
Kor'Lyn smirks, inclining his head to Tahllana.
I think you'll find that although my arm is frail, the bolts I can fire from my crossbow can prove rather deadly. As for burning bridges... my dear father was never truly willing to build them. Shall we press gang this loud brute and get going?
At the scene unfolding in front of him, Dragox almost has no words. He simply chose to ignore all of it, still a bit fatigued after expending a great deal of Sarenrae's gifts in raising Shalani.
"Yes, well, you are certainly welcome to join our little band Kor'lyn. I don't know how much about the Red Hand you know, but they are a truly fierce evil. The last few times we encountered them, we were lucky that we weren't massacred. They seem to know our tactics. Hopefully the new addition will make things more ...unpredictable for them."
Shalani has few words for Narses before he departs. She does not know what she can give him so that he can remember her by. But there is a dark look in his eyes that says he will remember her well in any event.
She sighs and turns to Dragox. "It is strange how much my life has changed lately. It feels almost like my old desert life, where every day was a fight for survival. I had thought those days were behind me. I hadn't anticipated such strong foes among the Red Hand."
She nods to Kor'Lyn, but has few words for him, except to greet and welcome him in the eastern tradition.
"If we are to travel toward Hammerfist Hold, I need more arrows. I wouldn't trust any arrow bought from a dwarven enclave to fly true."
The guards and the lone human continue to make scuffling noises on the forest floor.
"If we are to travel toward Hammerfist Hold, I need more arrows. I wouldn't trust any arrow bought from a dwarven enclave to fly true."
How far is this Hammerfist Hold and what is your purpose there? I could travel just under seventy miles in eight hours and teleport back to you to save time, if you wish...
"If only we knew what we were looking for," Tahllana responds ruefully. She glances around to make sure the other elves aren't near enough to overhear, then draws Kor'Lyn into the group of Champions. "We found a phylactery the Hand were hiding, with the warning not to let it fall into the hands of its owner, the Ghostlord, a druid slain by the people of Rhest. It is said his lair lies in the Thornwaste, just north of Hammerfist Hold." She shrugs. "What good it will do to return a phylactery to a ghost druid, I don't know, but if the Red Hand doesn't want it to happen, it seems worth the risk to accomplish it. Have you heard anything about this Ghostlord in your travels?"
History
Religion
Hrmph... Consider my volunteering to go alone retracted in that case. I have heard little of this lich; as I said I have not been with this lovely tribe long. I suppose we shall find out.
Keep it hidden until Brindol is taken. Should it fall into the hands of someone who could return it to its owner, the consequences for our effort could be dire indeed.
"I can climb just fine myself, thank you." An indignant voice sounds from below, some more scuffling is heard and then a muttered voice gets louder as it draws near. "...blasted confounded root-chewing dung-smelling hair-brained..." the source of the voice pops into view and easely heaves himself over the ledge. You see a dark-haired human wearing blue and grey traveling clothing, his nose is hooked and his mouth small and he peers about as if he has a permanent sour expression and a squint. You notice he has a he has a well-tooled belt with a platinum buckle depicting a bull and a bear grappling, his boots are soft and furred, his cloak a deep blue with silver stitching and you see the insignia of the Lions of Brindol over his heart on his blue jacket.
Seeing Dragox he points a finger and starts toward him. "You! Dragox! I recognize you from the description. Were are you'r companions? Where is the rest of the Silversong Champions? ..Hey! Unhand me I say..!" his advance is cut short as his escort catches up to him and the scuffling resumes.
After acknowledging Shalani's greeting with the same type of eastern greeting, mimicking here, Kor'Lyn sighs at the elven guards handling the newcomer. Dead or retiring, from what I can gather- but death always makes room for vacancies in an adventuring troupe; I just signed up myself. I imagine we could do with one more to replace the brute that left earlier.
Kor'Lyn glares at the elven guards, menace in his posture and a dangerous look in his eyes. Oh do unhand him- and get out of my sight; thou dost infect mine eyes!
On a purely OOC level, would it be disruptive if Kor'Lyn flew to Hammerfist Hold ahead of the group and used the days waiting for them to craft himself some poisons? Obviously if theres events etc. potentially happening on the road i'd rather not do that.
"So he is a friend of yours," Tahllana says to Dragox. Turning to the newcomer, she goes on, "The half-orc is the last of them. You should know the danger before you join up."
With shock clear on his features the human stops strugling at Kor'Lyn's words. "D.. dead? But how? Who's dead? The companie cannot be disbanded? Wait. You joined them? And you want me?" he frowns in confusion.
As the elves let him go he aproches the group more calmly now. "Ofcourse. I'd be honored to join you in your efforts. I am Juce Koran of the Lions of Brindol. I was sent to gather news of you. The Silversong Companions, and to speak to Arroswift regarding the horde." he says turning to Killar. "Please. You must know by now that the horde threatens all of us. We beseach you. String your bows and let fly your arrows. The denziens of this valley must unite to repell this threat." he says in swift, hurried tones. Having delivered his message he turns back to the companions. "Findor? Adelle? Narses? The other halfling? All dead? How can this be? How fare thee agains the horde?"
"I am indeed Dragox, a meager follower of the Dawnflower. I suppose you are looking at the new Silversong Champions. There have been some additions...and subtractions from our band, unfortunately. The names you have mentioned are no longer with us, as they are continuing to fight their battle on the other side. We all knew of the dangers ahead of us, and I plan on seeing this mission through, avenging my friends, and finishing off the Red Hand. These new compatriots seem to share the same belief."
Dragox then quickly cut to the point. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Juce. If you were so inclined, we would welcome your sword to strike against the collected evils."
Tahllana frowns and whispers to Dragox, "There was another halfling?"
With shock clear on his features the human stops strugling at Kor'Lyn's words. "D.. dead? But how? Who's dead? The companie cannot be disbanded? Wait. You joined them? And you want me?"
Well, you did sound like the type to want to embark on a potentially suicidal quest. Lots of spirit and keen to meet the Silversongs. I hadn't considered that you might be a messenger. How fares the rest of the Vale? How fares the town by the river... Drellin's Ferry was it? Are my fellow humans as slow to react to the threat as my elven brethren?
"Drellin's Ferry burns. Refugees march to Brindol and the Lions are hard pressed. We sent gold to curry favor from the dwarfes but I have no news of that. The horde presses the vale and we react as fast as we can but aid is required if we hope to repell tham." he anwers Kor'Lyn.
"I was sent becouse I can take care of myself. I'm a scout in the service of Brindol, I do not wear the insignia lightly, so I'm used to running around on my own. My mission was to find news of the Silversong Companions and draft the elves into this war. It seems I am needed, I am certain my comander would approve I offer you my aid. Can any of you sent messages over distances? Either via sending or animal messanger? I need to report back before I am free to join you."
"'Draft the elves?'" Tahllana chuckles. "Well, you have two of us ... or one and a half, to be precise. As for the rest of Starsong Hill, I fear we've just relieved them of any pressing motivation to join the fight -- at least until the rest of the Vale is overwhelmed and they have no remaining allies with which to stand. You might get an animal messenger out of them, so they can sit back and pat themselves on the back for doing their part."
Killar clears his throat, frowning openly at Juce's suggestion. "The Tiri Kitor are under no obligation to be drafted. I will assume that you are just fatigued and excited. That way, when you say 'drafted,' I will instead hear 'politely request aid.'" He turns to the rest of the party. "I will not lie; we are impressed by your victories down south and in the Blackfens. I see that this problem with the Red Hand will not be solved by staying independent. I hereby pledge a group of hunters to Brindol's defense. They will harry and harass the horde as it travels and sabotage their weapons and supplies. I will also loan you several of our beloved giant owls for the next few weeks until the horde is defeated. Treat them with kindness and respect, as you have with us, or they will abandon you."
Shalani stills as a familiar power within her rises. She closes her eyes, quietly muttering the mantras of Irori.
How kind, father. This will speed up the travel of my new allies, at least. I'm afraid that even if I had a spell of sending, it would be useless to me as i'm not familiar with the person whose message you want delivered...
Tahllana nods to Killar. "Travel by air will speed our journey and make sure we avoid any delays at the hands of hobgoblin soldiers. If we are unfortunate enough to meet up with a dragon ... well, at least we will better equipped than we would on the ground. The black escaped us," she tells him bitterly. "Have there been any sightings of it, to know which way it flew?"
Killar shakes his head. "No sightings were reported. If the dragon fled from you, I doubt it would have chanced to fly within arrows reach of our hunters. Is there anything else you require before leaving?" He gives a subtle look towards Kor'Lyn as he speaks that last part.
Merely the promise that a great statue will be sculpted out of me from the finest wood when my actions save the tribe, father. Oh, and don't be tempted to have me drawn up as an Elf- i'd like everyone to know it was your half-breed son that saved the day. Kor'Lyn said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Nevertheless, he embraced Killar briefly before he set off.
Sellyria Starsinger approaches at the mention of magical assistance. "Why yes, we would be happy to help. I can communicate with your commander and let them know that you have gone with the Champions."
"In that case, I believe it is due time for us to get on our way. Thank you for your more than kind hospitality for our group," he says with a slight nod in Killar's direction.
"Very good." Juce says with a nod. "Let me compose a message for you."
Commander.
Silversong located. North secure, elves promise aid.
Silversong numbers thinned, will bolster.
Scout Koran.
After the message is sent off and Juce has recieved his equipment back he reports ready to the companions. "Where are we going?"
"A moment, Dragox, please. At least a day or two of rest and further work. I can craft some more alchemist's fire and other supplies, provided the ingredients are available."