Imzel moves forward to assist the stranger. She cannot shake the feeling that something is still amiss here, but sees nothing to confirm her suspicion. The question unanswered, Imzel, looks over the items already sorted through by the man...
The Old priest knelt down in the dust, tapping away at panels on the altar table and coughing a little in the dust. "Oh, thank you dear... its an old book, bound in a dark blue leather from what I'm told, with silvery acentuations..."
As you look over the items sorted through by the old man, you find that mostly its just junk and debris. a few plates of silver, a small coffer with a few golden dragons inside, and a few parchments litter the floor, two of which, you realize are scrolls of magical nature.
"That is quite the interesting mask, my dear. Tell me, what does it represe.." The man stops short as a panel within the leg of the alter's table slides open and the old priest pulls out a small book, bound in a dark blue leather, the edge of the book's cover traced in a swirling pattern of silver, just as the old priest described. "Aha!" He cries with delight and then offers a broad grin to Imzel. "It seems that godless or not, fortune still deems to smile on this old man. If you'll excuse me my dear," He stands up, protectively cradling the book in his hand, "I'm afraid this is too important to wait." He moves to go around Imzel and leave the shrine.
"That's alright lad, you tried your best..." He places a reassuring hand on Ozwald's shoulder, "sides, nothing of value in here except for the missus' undergarm..." He stops cold and goes white as a ghost. Without saying a word he runs over to the overturned bed and drops to his knees, shoving aside a pile of overturned clothes.
The Innkeeper leans back, his shoulders slumping and Oz can see that underneath the clothing pile, one of the floorboards has been ripped up.
"'Ey took it..." Gareth mutters, almost to himself, before turning to Ozwald, his face awash with fear, "'Ey took Elminster's dagger."
The creature, as it seems wrong to call it a man anymore, sneers at Ruhk. "Yes you pathetic excuse for breeding, meddlers. You meddle in affairs far beyond your scope or your mettle," It grins, wide and toothy, as as it does you can see the same black blood start to slowly ooze its way out of the corner of the bandit leader's mouth, "But it doesn't matter now. Our attack was a mere distraction, one that has worked out perfectly. And now the pieces have come together, because in death the Old Mage can protect his home no longer...."
He stops his speech and eyes Danate, laughing with contempt, "You may cease your efforts whelpling," It hisses, "I am far beyond your comprehension and you..." He shifts again, addressing everyone within the dungeon again, "Are too late, No heir shall be chosen, we will see to that!"
With that, this thing that was once a human cackles in mad glee. Seconds later his laughter becomes a ragged grasp as darkness from the shadows itself seem to reach out and bind around the man's neck, constricting with incredible speed until there is an audible "Snap!" from the man's neck and he slumps dead in his chain.
You stand there now, alone in the dungeon. Lord Azalar and Valen look to each other and then back to the freshly made corpse, each at a loss for words...
"Eh...an heir to Elminsters legacy...
I knew it made no sense to just attack like that...
Oh gods...they wanted to create a distraction, while the other two bandits robbed the temple, maybe the old skull inn too...
And he said they had succeeded...
Imzel...she went there! And Oz is at the Inn"
Without another words Ruhk grabs his axe and shield and starts running for the exit.
"My lord, I am a stranger here, and know little of what the man speaks, but I am loathe to put much stock in the words of a failed bandit, regardless of what dark powers moved him.
Take up your courage again, my lord. For yon display may be no more than empty boast, though I admit I would be grateful for any light you may shed on the subject."
Perhaps Arikor's plan would have prevented some of this after all, he thought.
Arikor stays silent for the entire display. The mere presence of such a force, or a false threat as it may be, did little to settle Arikor. Almost on Rukh's heels, he draws his blade and follows, nimbly dancing up the stairs almost.
"Come, Glorgrim! We have little time to waste, if we are to prevent this!"
His blade sings in the air as he holds it, a soft blue glow leaving a misty trail in its wake.
"Good man, you take the shrine; I'll take the inn, how about that? You know this place better than me and I don't know if I'd find the shrine in time!" Ruhk shouts back over his shoulder as he keeps running for the exit.
Wondering what that was... and unable to describe it, Danate is speechless. Head cocked and eyes closed, he is in his own though of the words of magical creature
But it doesn't matter now. Our attack was a mere distraction, one that has worked out perfectly. And now the pieces have come together, because in death the Old Mage can protect his home no longer...."
Realaising what it had said and Ruhk suddenly speaking of Inn and Temple... he turns to see others speeding away. Turning to Lord Azalar I am sorry for this immediate reaction, but it seems... our other recent companions might be in trouble. They will most likely need my help so I will be running after them as he politely apologize and run after others
"It is beingk a sign of my station in Rashemen as a wychlaran."The witch starts to speak further as she sorts through, idly setting aside the scrolls for further examination later. Then the compartment is found, halting her explanation. She watches the man take it out, cradling it protectively. And then he tries to leave. She moves to block his way.
"Nyet, wait. You have not been tellingk me vat this book is, who you are, or why you are takingk it." A pause, "Or if it is beingk yours o take."
Danate
The priest looks at you incredulously, his words coming out in a stutter of confusion and incredulity, "M...my dear! I am a priest of Mystra, a caretaker of her knowledge and s..sec..secrets. Even with her gone I take that charge s..ser..seriously! And I assure you that I have more claim than one who by her own admission is not of this land! Now if you'll excuse me!" he elbows past Imzel, "I have an appointment I mustn't be late for."
"Calm down lad!" Gareth belows at Oz with the roar of a Lion, "I don' know what it does, just tha' it's a dagger the old mage gave me afore his last fight... told me to "keep it safe, and close to home," so 'at's what I did..."
He lets out a long sigh, staring out the window, "Find Valen, e'll have an idea what to do...."
Valen takes off alongside Ruhk, Danate and Arikor, without a word, leaving Glorgrim and Sera behind with Lord Azalar.
Azalar looks at Glorgrim with a helpless shrug at the monk's question, "I've no clue, truth be told..."
"Perhaps I can help, my magic is spent so I'll be of no use in a fight..." Sera chimed in, "My Lord do you have a library, or records room?"
"Yes, right this way," Azalar turns to lead Sera away.
For her part, the young mage smiles at Glorgrim, "Your aid would be welcome, though I'm sure Valen would say the same as well..."
The priest looks at you incredulously, his words coming out in a stutter of confusion and incredulity, "M...my dear! I am a priest of Mystra, a caretaker of her knowledge and s..sec..secrets. Even with her gone I take that charge s..ser..seriously! And I assure you that I have more claim than one who by her own admission is not of this land! Now if you'll excuse me!" he elbows past Imzel, "I have an appointment I mustn't be late for."
"Calm down lad!" Gareth belows at Oz with the roar of a Lion, "I don' know what it does, just tha' it's a dagger the old mage gave me afore his last fight... told me to "keep it safe, and close to home," so 'at's what I did..."
He lets out a long sigh, staring out the window, "Find Valen, e'll have an idea what to do...."
Valen takes off alongside Ruhk, Danate and Arikor, without a word, leaving Glorgrim and Sera behind with Lord Azalar.
Azalar looks at Glorgrim with a helpless shrug at the monk's question, "I've no clue, truth be told..."
"Perhaps I can help, my magic is spent so I'll be of no use in a fight..." Sera chimed in, "My Lord do you have a library, or records room?"
"Yes, right this way," Azalar turns to lead Sera away.
For her part, the young mage smiles at Glorgrim, "Your aid would be welcome, though I'm sure Valen would say the same as well..."
Danate rushes forward and try to keep up with more fitted warriors, although thanks to running and speeding up during younger days, he was in fit condition. Thinking for a while, Danate steers little bit off towards direction of Shrine of Mystra Peo-... Friends, I will be heading to Shrine of Mystra. I guess its more appropriate for me as he yells and press his hat more tight on his head and try to secure his back on run and like that, Danate speeds up towards Shrine
[OOC]Will Save, If Applicable[OOC]
The glowing dagger raises once more, casting long shadows in the abandoned shrine. "Nyet. You are not being fully honest with me."Arget hisses at the man as he keeps close to Imzel's feet.
"Please be puttingk the book down. Slowly."
Glorgrim nods and says, "After you." He has no idea where the library is. Perhaps this tower is a familiar place for Sera.
Before leaving Oz will go get his crossbow and some bolts and collect a few more daggers.
He will then leave to find Valen and the others.
Arikor nods to Ruhk, no time for words as he scales past him in the stairwell, slipping by without a moment's notice.
"Then off to the Shrine I go - stay your course, and be well!"
With all due haste, his heels were quick as he blazed up those steps, a goal in his mind - to run to the Temple of Mystra, to see if he could aid this cause.
The Dwarven monk follows after Lord Azalar and Sera to the keep's large wood paneled halls. Azalar pushes through a set of doors into a small, tapestry hung room with a single table and a number of chairs, and through another door on the other side.
This leads into a Large Audience chamber that Glorgrim realizes must be the Lord's Court. row upon row of wooden seats line the floor, facing a raised dias on which sit two elegantly carved highbacked chairs. Lord Azalar's heraldic crest, an argent Falcon on a field of bendy green and black, hangs above the Lord's chair.
Without wasting a moment, Lord Azalar steps up the dias and walks past the chair, and with a firm push, opens a door that was all but invisible within the all,
"Come come now, no times for pomp and priss and all that, you two will be able walk these stairs faster than I."
The stairs lead up into a large, high ceilinged room that seems to be part sitting room, part office and part lounge. The window's of the Northern wall are larger than the rest of the castle, allowing more light to enter the room, (or it would if there was any.) There's a large oak desk, a table and various comfortable looking chair, but it is the bookshelf on the far side that catches your attention.It takes up the majority of the wall and stretches to the ceiling. "All right," Sera immediately starts running a finger along the books spines, before drawing one of them out, "let's get to work."
Valen and Ruhk race up the steps and burst into the taproom of the Old Skull, illiciting a scream of surprise from Alice and her mother. On that sound Oz and Gareth come bounding down the stairs to see the two warriors, "Well.." Gareth mutters, "We found 'em"
eyes darting between the two Valen focuses on Oz, "What happened?!"
[spoiler=The Shrine of Mystra]
Imzel's fingers flow through the arcane gestures and snap out towards the thief, but she feels the magic die in the air.
The Drow smiles, letting his illusion drop. Pearly white teeth gleeming from jet black skin hiss, "You'll have to do better than that, sweetling."
At that, the Drow's hands thrust out, and Imzel sees his black skin glow and then go red hot, before a gout of flame shoots out towards her.
Everyone Else
Those who split off from Valen and Ruhk and continue to run through the village proper to the shrine feel their hearts leap into their throats as a flickering orange light and black smoke suddenly starts to rise from their destination.
"Yeah, what's going on? Everyone looks ok? Anyone hurt? The bandit leader made us think something was going on here...AND at the temple, we thought you and Imzel might be in danger! Arikor and Danate is heading there now, but if you are ok, maybe we should all go there too? What d’ya say Valen?"
Ruhk practically jumps from foot to foot in anticipation, wanting desperately to do something, not just stand around and talk. His knuckles whiten as his grip on the axe grows tighter.
EDIT: The following was edited in post rolls to conserve posting space.
The wychlaran's spell falls flat, and her eyes widen slightly behind the mask. This is not good. Seeing the drow's hands glow red hot, she ducks quickly beneath the sheet of flames, Arget using her form for cover. They lick across her shoulder, leaving a dark scorch mark on her clothing and skin. Magic isn't going to help me hurt him, she thinks
The witch steps forward to stab the dagger at the dark elf. "If you are insisting, then I shall be the obligingk." Arget holds back, moving to crouch near the door.
Oz looks down at his feet a little ashamed.
"What do we do now?"
Valen offers Oz a small smile, "We stop feeling sorry for ourselves and we go stop them. Sera and Glorgrim are at the Twisted Tower trying to figure what this is all about, the others, ran to the shrine of Mystra, if we hurry we can get there." Without waiting for a response Valen spins on his heel and is back out the door.
The Drow shifts himself on his heels and sweeps his arm out, pushing Imzel's dagger harmlessly aside by her wrist. "I simply do not have time for this child!"
He pushes out to put some distance between him and the Wychlaren, pivots on his heel and bolts out the door.
The Dark Elf Wizard crashes out through the old shrine doors, to find Arikor and Danate charging up the road towards him and lets out an obscene profanity in the drow language.
Imzel turns, giving chase after the Drow. She cannot get let him get away with that book. A quick charge is made, dagger out as she lunges for the dark elf.
"Stop him!" She calls to her companions as she notes them charging for the Shrine, "Do not be lettingk him escape with the tome!"
Hearing the yell off Imzel, Danate soon notices the dark figure approaching. Running towards him and thinking of someway to stop him, a rainbow image came to his mind. Little bit confused and thinking to himself, what the heck do I dream now, a colourful spring shower flies from his hands towards drow
Arikor, on simple sight of a drow, grits his teeth and fumes with rage, glowing blade brought to swing - he charges valiantly.
"In the name of Shadowdale and its citizens, your kind is not welcome! Be removed in all that is just!"
Imzel and the Drow struggle back and forth against each other, Imzel's dagger slashing out across her enemy's face, drawing a line of vivid red across midnight black. The Drow shoves back from her, placing himself out of reach and lets out a curse in his native tongue towards Imzel as his fingers twist in an arcane motion, and a bolt of energy unswervingly flies straight into Imzel's chest.
She reels back from the blow, seeing her newfound allies charging up the hill she calls as loud as she can,
"Stop him!" She calls to her companions as she notes them charging for the Shrine, "Do not be letting him escape with the tome!"
Arikor is the first to react, his blood seething to a boil at the sight of a drow in his home, he thrusts the blade of his father forwar and even cuts cloth as the Dark Elf dodges the sword in the nick of time.
And for just a fleeting moment, Arikor is sure that he can hear a voice, seemingly nowhere and yet all around him,
Control your anger boy! Anger makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed.
"Arikor, move!" Danate shouts while the young mage's hands twitch in intricate patterns, his tongue dancing over arcane syllables. He extends an arm and pure color sprays from the air in front of him, swirling and storming around the Drow who lets out a pained yelp, and then slumps to the groun, eyes rolling back in his head.
As the drow slumps to the ground, unconscious, Valen, Ruhk and Ozwald come running up the road, weapons drawn.
[/spoiler]
Within the few minutes that Sera and Glorgrim have been trying to find some clue as to what the creature in the dungeon was and what it's purpose is, the Solar has degenerated to chaos. Books and scrolls lie everywhere, pulled from the bookshelf, desk and drawers, one line keeps repeating itself in Glorgrim's head,
The Old Mage can protect his home no longer
As this runs through his mind, Glorgrim finds an old scroll, detailing the official documentation of Shadowdale granting a plot of land to the North to the Mage Elminster Aumar. A few moments later you cross a passage in a newer journal, written by one Mourngrym, the last Lord of Shadowdale, detailing the destruction of Elminster's tower. With this you realize... Elminster's home may not refer to the village of Shadowdale at all....
Danata watches as the drow slumbers to the ground, but something tells him for not a long time. Yelling to others Quickly! He won´t be unconscious for a long time. Find something to tie him or to keep him in one place.
Rushing next to the drow and trying to see how badly Imzel is hurt, Danata grapple the drow Can someone help me to keep him in check before he wakes ups
CMB:Grapple
Imzel's dagger hits home; barely. The blade scratches a line of red across the drow's face and the she feels a sense of relief. Had the drow proven resistant to weaponry as well as magic, she would have been in a very difficult position.
Her satisfaction is short lived as a Magic Missile slams into her side, knocking the wind from her and painfully cracking a rib. Through a gasp of pain, she yells to her allies...and is met with a burst of lights from Danate amidst Arikor's bravery.
As the drow slumps to the ground, the witch grits her teeth for a moment, before moving over to snatch the tome from him. "I am not havingk any rope...and he is being the resistant to my magic." She looks to Arikor, hoping the elf might have something they can use.
As Ruhk reaches the others he mutters.
"Well, I could just bash him til he's out cold you know..."
Seeing Imzel's wounds Oz rushes over "Madam you look hurt, drink this."
He'll use his CLW on Imzel you heal this much.
The elf pants - he seems to hold himself back from impaling the drow's chest on his blade, hatred in his blood surging. His eyes stop being so clouded to his haste, and he shakes his head, kneeling beside him. He looks up to Imzel, relief washing over him as he sees Ozwald take care of her injuries.
"It was my fault for allowing you to go alone. We had more than enough of us to escort the ruffians to the tower. As for this one, my friends, I have the thing you so seek!"
He draws out his length of silken rope, and lays it down, looking to the others. He flexes, and begins to tie to the drow's arms behind his back, and his ankles to each other. He also affixes a part of the rope through its mouth, to serve as a gag.
"There. That should do it..." he mutters, thoughts flying away inside his mind.
You're right. If this is who I think it is, then I ask your name - and thank you for your rational thought. I would be no better for unjust slaughter.
Getting a good look at the prisoner Ruhk takes several steps back in horror and makes a sign warding against evil, the big man looks horrified, his face pale and his hands shaking.
"D..d...dock-alfar! It's a d...dock-alfar! Should we kill it? I mean...it's a dock-alfar!"
Danate sights from relief as the situation seems to calm down and he has time to catch his breath. Panting little bit from all that running, but steps back as Ruhk suddenly speaks something about dock-alfar, but soon realize its about the drow.
Thinking for a moment, Danate realises what he has done and against what and takes additional steps backwards and mutter prayers to gods. Looking at the drow and wondering if he still has some tricks, Danate utters magic words out, while keeping his gaze on drow
Though not unfamiliar with books, Glorgrim was no scholar. His books were mostly ledgers and contracts, and he felt unusually helpless amongst the piles of parchment. Still, he would do what he could.
"Lady Sera, where else has Elminster lived besides Shadowdale?"
Sera's face scrunches in confusion, her brow furrowing, "It's hard to say, gods know all the Realms that the old mage visited. but from everything I've heard Elminster lived the most of his days in shadowdale. The ruins of his tower still stand.... The Old Mage's home... By the gods Glorgrim you're a genius!" Sera grabs her staff from the floor, leaping into a run, "come on, we need to catch up with the others, I know where the enemy's going!"
The Dark elf's eyes snap open, glowing blood red in the moonlight. He thrashes against his bonds, seemingly in vain, cursing at those standing above him in his native tongue. "They're called Drow," Valen comments to Ruhk, "and I for one agree with the sentiment of running him through." His mouth clenched in a thin line, he turns to Imzel, "What was he after?"
Outside Mystra's shrine, a moment later
A few moments after, Glorgrim and Sera come running full tilt up the hilled road towards them, "The Tower Valen! The enemy is moving on Elminster's tower!"
Arikor, being of mind hastened to react, could only think of one solution to all of this, especially as Glorgrim and Sera run up towards them. The information given changed everything, and he could only act.
"Alright then! Valen, I need a favor - take this prisoner and send him to the dungeons in the Lord's tower, and meet us at the Sage's Tower afterwards; we can't have him sitting here and being able to loose his bonds. In the meantime~"
Arikor doesn't even finish the rest of his statement, as he twirls his enchanted weapon repeatedly in the air, a flourish if you will, and begins to recall the layout of Shadowdale. With his home in danger still, he races off towards the Tower that once belonged to Elminster, feet ever moving no matter the real distance.
You can go in front of me. I will come behind just couple seconds later. Need to catch my breath and secure that there is no more threat at least from his part Danate speaks as he points to drow. Looking at the drow and thinking now what to do, since he felt exhausted. The magic he had, was diminishing... he had a feeling that there was not so much he could do anymore, maybe once only something big and thats it.
Turning to Imzel and seeing that she was hurt, Danata approaches carefully, since never really... used to opposite sex and didn´t have so much to do with them. There were couple girls, but always had turned little bit awkward at somepoint. That strange mask was also interesting while ominious. Approaching and asking Are you feeling alright, .. um, Imzel was it? Do you feel like continueing or should I stay and help you or go with others?
Ruhk pouts, clearly not lking being contradicted and mutters under his breath. "Drow schmow, to me it's a dock-alfar..."
As soon as people start moving again he forgets his irritation and follows, the pout transforming to a gleeful grin at the thought of battle. He twirls his axe and checks that his shield is strapped on tightly, then he gives Oz a big slap on his back.
"Yeah! Let's go get that dagger back eh Oz?"
After that he starts running, following Arikor since he does not know the way himself.
"You're not going there without me Arikor, I can't let you steal all the fun from my axe, ha-ha!"
He quickly stops, turns around and winks at the others.
"Last one there is a stinking Goblin!"
Then he continues as to not become the goblin himself.
Imzel accepts the potion from Oz, nodding in gratitude. The mask is slipped up for a moment to drink the brew and the witch sighs in relief as her rib mends and the burn on her shoulder no longer stings.
The wychlaran is stops to look over the tome, running a hand across it, when Valen arrives. "Zis. I am not knowingk why, but I intend to find o-" Glorgrim and Sera arrive, yelling a warning before she can finish. The woman lowers her mask once more, stuffing the book into her pack. "I vill be fine." She responds to Danate. "But I must retrieve somethingk. Please be waitingk a moment for me."
Imzel runs back into the shrine, emerging a minute or so later with her fox in tow.
Oz looks up at Ruhk and a grin appears on his face, he stands up and cocks his crossbow. "I think it is only fair we repay them in kind for all the hassle they have given us" as everyone sprints away "Hey I don't want to be the goblin, wait for me!" and shoots off towards the tower.
"These guys move quick!"
These surface folk talk entirely too much, thought Glorgrim.
The thought was not new, but he sensed a long march ahead. He didn't know anything about Valen's Tower, including what or where it was.
The mud splashes under your feet as you charge back down the town's main road in the direction of the twisted tower, Arikor leading the charge. He veers sharply to the right, taking off up a hilled dirt road into the forest. Already you can see a strange blueish glow coming from further into the woods.
The sun begins to crest over the eastern horizon as you round bend to the remains of Elminster's tower.
Little more than a cleared space on the hill, the tower's foundation is a circular patch of stone that looks to be rougly fifty feet in diameter. Here and there a few haphazard pieces of furniture are scattered about, and the remains of the tower wall stand for a few feet in height and length at random places, the largest of which is the north wall, which still holds a fireplace and a chunk of a chimney.
four figures await as you approach, The first Hooded figure, dressed in black robes and chain armor, stands in the very center of the tower, his back to you. In his hand you see a shining dagger and he stands in a circle of arcane marks scrawled upon the stone.
Three Drow flank the outside of the foundation, two of them wear leather armor while the last wears a set of metal and chain, all three fashioned with wicked edges and treated to have a oily blackness to them, Seeing your approach, the mailed Drow draws a slender longsword, while the two in leather step back, each drow a crossbow from their belts. The Hooded figure however, pays the intruders no mind.