Jorzan smiles politely and sits. He picks up a tea briefly to warm his hands, but does not drink any of it. He begins speaking while looking in the cup, but soon lifts his head to stare at the magnificent creature before him "Thank you for your time Van-Haera. I know you are very busy and have much of import that demands your time, I am greatly honoured that you would spend this time with me. There are...a few matters I wish to address, if I may, but, practical matters first."
Reaching into his haversack, he lays out two wands "I believe you requested the wands you lent us back, yes? I only have on me these two wands of Hide from Undead and Protection From Evil. I believe your son Karthan has one of the wands of teleport and the Skynights have the other. Thank you kindly for their use."
Sitting back he asks "And of the items Kelne and I found near the Drow city, has there been time for them all to be properly identified?"
and then waits for her response.
After those matters his tone and demeanor become noticeably more quiet and withdrawn, after some further hesitation, he finally begins to speak, everything coming out in a rush "Some of the things I am about to tell you I have not spoken of to anyone, ever. My...my companions know bits and pieces of it, I suppose, but even I myself do not know the whole picture, let alone come close to understanding it all. So where to begin? Well, I believe you know that I was one of the orphans rescued from Bal-zat's tower when the Paladine slew that evil, twisted demon of an arch-mage, yes? For those many years since, I had thought myself forever free from his dark machinations and evil designs. Yet in the past few weeks, a series of events and discoveries have made me almost certain that Bal-zat yet lives, or at least in some fashion, and has been marshaling his power and seeks to rise again, perhaps somehow regaining physical form, perhaps my physical form."
Seeing the look of confusion and concern on the kindly dragon's face he continues "In the past few weeks I have met two of my 'brothers', others who, like me, had been stolen as children and suffered under Bal-zat's torture and manipulations, and, well, we...we all look alike. I believe that a part of his mad plan was to create an army of...'children', in his own likeness. To thus have a nearly unending series of bodies that he could use to prolong his life. I think that perhaps his plans were interrupted by the Paladine before he could properly complete them, but that he has continued to work on them since. I...Van-Haera, I think Bal-zat means to use , my body, to physically come back into this world!"
The terror, anguish and rage that this idea instills in Jorzan is abundantly clear. Yet at the same time, behind it all, there is a steely determination to never allow such a disastrous thing occur, at whatever cost. Taking a few moments to collect himself, he pulls out the strange medallion that somehow seemed to contain the soul, or essence, of Camor, and likely one other, showing it to the Brass and handing it to her if she wishes to hold it. "Then there is this. This medallion was in the coffin or on the person of Baron Ormir, of all people. I have no idea what it is, but I sensed it was very important from the moment I glimpsed it. When we were far from here, the medallion was pulling very strongly towards Stormfare. When we arrived here, it was pulling very strongly towards the Shadow Tower of Souls, and then when that tower collapsed, it was pulling into the pit which Kelne and I entered. When we descended as deep as we could, that was when we found the drow city. But we found more, we found the remains of battle, one that had taken place much higher up, but somehow the floor had been collapsed, dropping those we found to their deaths, well, at least the ones who hadn't already been killed by having their hearts blasted out. Amidst the wreckage of that battle is where we found these items I asked you to identify. We also found there one of my 'twins', by 'brother', Camor. He recognized this medallion right away, and it seemed clear that it was to him the medallion had been trying to go. He was moments from death's door when we found him, but he managed to say a few things to me, things I shall never forget. First, he said "I was not...w-was not strong enough. When HE came, I fell, and did his bidding. I die happy, knowing he -- I -- failed." then, as soon as I showed him the medallion, he said "Oh good. You have it. He tried, brother, to come back Through, but he was thwarted, thwarted by...Don't let him have the medallion, Jorzan. He needs it..." and then, before he could tell us more, and I swear this is true, he suddenly dissolved before our eyes, turning into pure light! A cloud of light that was sucked into this medallion! Before that happened one of these stones were glowing, once Camor had been sucked into it, this other one here started glowing as well! What could all that possible mean Van-Haera??"
Before she can answer, and trusting that her excellent draconic mind can easily retain all he has told her thus far, Jorzan continues "I know this has been a lot to take in, but, there is more. There is this." and at this point Jorzan takes out his little wooden dagger necklace. He does not pass this one to her though "I do not know if this thing has any significance at all, except what it means to me, but, just earlier this morning, something that strange Elf Belsarious said deeply concerned me in connection with this memento of mine. You see Belsarious was talking about the Abominations, about which I still know next to nothing. Yet near the end of his speech he mentioned an inkwell, and suddenly the memory came back to me again. I was but a child, yet my burning desire to kill Bal-zat consumed nearly my every waking thought. One day, the day the shadows first came to me, I was able to sneak into Bal-zat's inner sanctum. I had this tiny wooden dagger I had made with me, in my childish naivety thinking I might actually have a chance to kill him with it. I remember searching through his belongs for something, anything to help me in my mission. I remember seeing an inkwell. In had been sitting in a place of obvious importance on his desk. I remember dipping this dagger in that ink, for some reason thinking this might help make it stronger, or a better weapon against him. I think...I think I may even remember his using that ink on us children, but I am not sure. I had never thought to see this wooden dagger again, yet a few weeks ago, when one of Bal-zat's old automaton's, a horrid, evil and cruel creation named the Punisher attacked me here in Stormfare, after we managed to destroy it, I found this dagger again among it's possessions. It was the Punisher itself who took this dagger from me many years ago."
He now looks again full into he great dragons eyes, imploring her to help him, to give her some answers to his many questions "Van-Haera, is it possible this tiny little dagger is somehow connected to one of these Abominations? Is it possible it could have been affecting me in some way? Or, was I already doomed as the spawn of Bal-Zat? For sometimes I...sometimes I doubt my sanity. Sometimes I cannot...control my temper. I...I would have killed that old man for saying that I was 'One of the Chosen of Bal-zat', that I am 'Flesh of his flesh'. He babbled on some more nonsense about 'the purple and silver running in my viens' and that if they could but find the 'pentacouer' then it could all come to pass, that 'Bal-zat could still rise again with the coming of the Confluence'...wait! The Pentacouer! That medallion must be it! The one holding Camor's soul! But that means...oh, ye Gods! I have no idea what that means! Van-Haera, it is all too much! What am I supposed to do! I cannot even trust my own mind! Sometimes I feel that Cassandra, and my sworn mission to help her, my love for her, is all that keeps me sane. But...but what if I should lose my mind again? What if I...oh Gods forbid! What if I should, when lost in the shadows of my mind again, hurt...hurt Cassandra?"
And the young man, the boy, who has never known a home, never known a family, never known nor had anyone take care or him, and, before Cassandra, never had anyone love him, begins quietly weeping at the terrifying thought of his possibly harming the one person who means the most to him in all the world.
Belsarious continues his research within the library.
A bit of frustration sets in as he wants to understand the soul tower, to grasp the destruction of the abominations, and be able to master the teleportation across the face of the known world.....
There was a word for this in Elvish was Milme Se, or power greed.
Was he slipping into Milme Se and becoming more suceptable to the abominations, or was this the expression of the dark taint working to currupt him in an insideous way?
She that arises in beauty everlasting.
That was the meaning of her name and when she awoke that morning she remembered exactly why Min had named her so. She had somehow awestruck the lonely tuathan mapmaker and even now she brought hope, courage and more emotions then she knew to the hearts of those that looked upon her. She lifted her great head, feeling the weakness in her new muscles. Unworked muscles, new and lengthen bones, claws the size of swords and teeth like daggers. So many changes had occurred last night and she felt them all and loved every moment of it.
She slowly pulled herself from the pool, realizing that it had grown smaller since the night before. Once out of the pool she stood up on shaky legs, reveling in the feeling of her new form as her body strengthened. She shook her whole form shaking off and scattering water and the scales of her last age across the floor like flower petals. She smiled before inhaling deeply and arcing her head back, straining her powerful lungs. She roared with the might of a young wyrm and enjoyed the feeling of vibrating the chamber, creating small ripples in the pool near her. She rumbled with laughter as she looked at Tora'an and saw he was wide awake.
"Apologies, friend Tora'an, I couldn't resist and..." She inhaled at the wrong moment, the exotic scent that assailed her, shocked her and caused her to quickly staggered back, causing the room shaking from her weight. Her eyes bulged as she tried not to gag, Tora'an smelled... Delicious. She put one of her hands over her nose after she exhaled, hoping to purge the smell before she craved more. "I will meet you back in.... Stormfare. I must... hunt... I will be in the Quad in a few hours."
Sometime later
Lin sat in the quad enjoying the feeling a full stomach and the cool air of Stormfare, she could grow used to the city and its strange environment. For now though she knew what she had to do. She would travel on to Lestho and complete her promise to the people of Maranasu by asking for aid on their behave. After a time of seeing no one she tried to put on the saddlebags and harness herself, after several minutes andm with the help of amused student she finally got them strapped on.
She wanted to speak to the head librarian about her plan and to see if there was anything more she could do for her while on her way to Lestho. So she continued to wait patiently as it was still fairly early.
First the message to deliver to Lestho, help stormfare as I can while away and then... Onward to the Tranquil Peak and the Empire of Mists.
Sleeping on a hard cot, preparing to take a journey to the end of the known world, slim chances of survival and facing certain death. Ahhhh, this is what true Dwarven sagas are made of! Good to be oathbound and wielding an axe again!
Hurin rolled out of bed with purpose. He pulled on his freshly detailed and beeswax sealed adamantium hobnailed boots with satisfaction he pulled off his chainmail sleeping shirt and strapped on his ancestral plate armor. one can't be too careful with Drow living underfoot! he stowed everything in his grandmother's handihaversack he had collected for the journey and with a new sense of direction he headed out the door to the quad.
The lady dragon Lin was in the quad and was much enlarged, either by magic or some other means. Best to just not mention it, ladies tend to be sensitive about that matter despite their species. And I am not getting involved in a discussion of if her scales make her tail look big! Hurin cheerfully walked over to Lin and gave her a warm greeting. After exchanging pleasantries Hurin got down to the real conversation.
"So lady dragon I see you are outfitted for a journey, are you coming with our party today or have you learned the location of your rider, whom I would be honored to meet."
Tora'an had paid close attention as the great Brass Prefect had informed them about the Tranquil Peak and the canyon of Ket, for he was sure these were things his Andayeau would be most interested in. He was not much concerned himself with the histories and goings on of mortals here in the material realm, he left those things to Aylaeth and her dry little angel, but he was quite intelligent and had quite good recall, so committed to memory all that he heard.
He continues to remain quiet and allow Lin to tell the story of the Dragon Doors and he is shocked and more than a little disturbed to hear the tale of the Silver and her Rider's encounter with the banished God Kalaroth himself! The Pegasus Lord had not been made privy to that tale before now.
As Van-Galazzan dismissed them, Tora'an nodded a farewell, one ruler to another, and took off after Lin. When they reached the Eyrie, he landed and watched as Lin gratefully and gracefully entered the massive pool. As she seemed to wish to keep her own counsel, or simply rest, Tora'an spoke not, as was his natural wont anyway.
He stood by the water's edge, watching her for some time, making sure she was alright. Once certain the Silver was asleep, and having no need for such mortal concerns himself, the winged stallion quietly clops out to the entrance of the Eyrie, standing on the cliff edge, casting his sight and senses out as far as possible. 'Where are you my Andyeau? Are you well? Do you live?' Although his bond with Aylaeth did not seem to be quite the same as Lin had with her rider, he was most certainly still connected to the Sylph Magus, in many ways. And while his natural thoughts did not usually take the form of words, still, for the rest of the night, his mind is occupied with concerned thoughts and fond memories of the mortal female he had known for nearly all of her life.
The next day, Tora'an does not even try to hide his great surprise at the incredible changes which have overtaken the now huge Silver overnight. Still though, he refrains from comment.
It is not until they are back in Stormfare, and he sees Lin preparing herself for a journey that he approaches and says in his deep, otherworldly voice, as always, the strain of speaking apparent "Lindórievórea, my friend, where do you go? Our Riders, are not back. Therefore, we must wait, yes? For when they have need of us, we must be here for them." his last statement clearly not a question, but a simple pronouncement of fact.
Lin looks to Tora'an and nods in agreement with his words. "I will give them another day, beyond that though I will not remain idle for their return. I cannot feel Min, if he was on this plane I would be able to feel a pulse in the bond, he could call me to his side with the power of the bond. Yet, there is nothing. Besides I made a promise to deliver a message from a besieged city to Lestho and now I have time to do it. If I fly hard and true I can reach them within a fortnight. I will not squander what little time I have." She remains holding her head high, voice unwavering, as she was not the same since the change. She had grown and in that change she had grown stronger, faster and wiser then she used to be.
Sir Justahl just nods distractedly at the functionary and sits off to the side. After a few minutes he gets up and starts pacing. A few minutes after that he grips both arms to resist the impulse to charge and break down the door.
What is taking them so long? He thinks furiously.
Then he stops dead.
Cassandra.
Cassandra is a Seer, maybe she can...
He hurries off to find Cassandra.
Satisfied with her answer, Tora'an nods his acceptance of it, and settles in to see what else the day shall bring.
"I can't fault your actions with Jorzan," Kelne said, "His emotions run close to the surface, and the old man certainly pushed all the wrong buttons. I've been trying to impart some subtlety and restraint to him, but it doesn't seem to be taking." That much, Hurin had no doubt worked out for himself, given Jorzan's reaction to him back in the courtyard.
"As to enemies, well, that includes pretty much anybody with a sufficiently blackened soul who knows about Cassandra. We originally took her away from some gnolls here in Stormfare, and there was word of a Retriever stopped by the locals before we left. The Black Dragonflight are certainly after her, and probably the Red as well. They'll both have agents scattered about, but as long as they don't get a chance to concentrate against us, we should be able to deal with them."
"Ormir, at least, is dead, but he had his own followers out looking for us, and it may be a while before word of his death reaches them. He's been survived by at least one vampiric underling. Whether she'll carry on with the hunt is an open question. If not, I'll have to hunt her down when this is all over. One of his minions also talked about an alliance with the Grindylow. Something else to watch for."
"At the moment, I think Bal-Zat is our most worrying enemy. He's certainly demonstrated his reach tonight. He wants Jorzan more than he does Cassandra, I think, but it would be a narrow preference either way. It's Jorzan's story to tell, but I think you've gleaned the basics at least."
"By all accounts, Cassandra's very easy to track. We've tried to compensate for that with speed and unpredictability, with some success, I think. Still, it hasn't been plain sailing."
Hardly an encouraging summary, but Hurin seemed a solid sort and ought to be able to handle it.
Hurin reflected on his conversation while he stood by the dragon Lin who had not yet responded. He had watched Sir Justal jogging about, he looked almost panicked, but Hurin knew paladins were immune from fear, the knight must have some powerful concerns on his mind though.
Kelne had told him what he had already deduced, just about anyone with a sliver of power or something to gain and with a bent towards evil would be after Cassandra. He imagined lichens, dragons, vampires, wizards and more surrounding him. He drew his Dorn-dergar and pulled the chain tight across his back. Stepping a safe distance away from the dragon he went into a familiar exercise using the weighted chain and it's cannonball head to lash out at his shadow foes. Working the chain up close to his body to perform chokes, at arms length to parry claws and blades and launching it out 10 feet with a quick snap. Satisfied that he had not lost his touch with the old weapon, Hurin stowed it back in his bag. He thought on the traditional weapon. It was said the weapon evolved from leg irons from a time imemorable when the people were a slave race, to giants Hurin had heard. That would explain why dwarves still held such hatred towards giants and trained to slay them still. It also made sense that tradition would link to a weapon like that. Dwarves would always need their weapons it seemed.
In Lin's sudden rise in wisdom she hadn't noriced the Dwarf Hurin had been talking to her. She looked down and nodded to him. "Apologies master dwarf and in answer to your question, I do plan on an extended journey if my rider doesn't show up soon. I however cannot feel him, which has never happened before but I am confident he is not dead." I would have felt is passing... Wouldn't I? "I am sure he would be interested in meeting you, especially if you have knowledge of the Forgelands, he is... Well, was a mapmaker and likes to learn of new places. As for accompanying your group I believe I would be more of a hindrance as I am far too large to not be noticed." She gave the dwarf a toothy smile before settling back down and continuing waiting in the Quad. "However if there is something I can do I am more then willing to do so."
It is then she remembered Dantoors message, and the small metal trinket they'd received. She looked to Hurin with an odd expression. "Master Hurin do you mind setting this inside the map case in the bags? I'd be most appreciative." She proffers the item with the tips of her large claws. "Best to wear gloves though. I don't think it dangerous but magic is a wily thing~"
"Well I for one will definately miss having you around for the conversation at the very least. Though I guess you are right, you would be placing yourself in harms way if we are going to be near the white dragons hunting grounds. If that trinket is that dangerous I have a set of clamps here in my engineering supplies.
Here, just let me . . . Okay. There we go. Anything else I might do for you please let me know.
Hurin will make small talk, but if the dragon says she is going to make a flight he will offer to go along if she would like company. He will also ask if she has seen any interesting things especially dwarven artifacts in her journeys.
Destroying the Abominations doesn't seem to be possible by any means on this plane. The only lead you have is if you could get a powerful enough creature from the plane of Shadow, or Abaddon, they could render the Abominations inert by tossing them into a rend between planes, known as a chasmal rend.
One with your lineage could possibly become a dragonsinger, if you wished it, though that is a long road...
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@Justahl: Finding Cassandra takes a little bit of looking around, but eventually you spot the young cloud dragon that Captain Lamorak's squire rides seated outside the garrison just off the quad. Following a hunch, you go inside and find the little seer probably about as safe as she can be for the moment, surrounded by fellow paladine and massive Warbanian mercs in the pay of the city of Stormfare. Kevin and Brook are in there as well, and while both boys seem wary, it's clear they're both also more than a little awed by all the muscle and steel around them.
Two of the huge Warbanians are seated on the floor while Cassandra is having a pretend tea party, serving the men from invisible pots, pouring invisible tea into invisible cup. The visual of the massive warriors lifting pretend cups of tea to their mouths -- pinkies out and everything -- at the insistence of a little girl, is priceless. It's easily the happiest you've Cassandra since you met her, just being a kid, playing at pretend.
The Day Sergeant notices you and nods a greeting. "Justahl! How may we help you, sir?"
@Jorzan: After telling you about what her interns and the staff learned of your haul from underground and hearing your story, Van-Haera smiles toothily. "Jorzan, my dear. You're not going to hurt Cassandra; she's like family to you! I've seen how protective you are of her. Indeed, it's one of the reasons you were chosen -- or perhaps Chosen -- to go with her. I am not an expert in either the Abominations of Marianasu or the evil of Bal-Zat, but I can tell you for certain that the charm around your neck has nothing to do with either of them save for the memories you have linked to it. It possesses no magic of any sort that I can see. If it has power, it is only symbolic."
"You are right about that medallion; 'Penta-' means 'five' and 'couer' means 'heart'; 'Five Hearts'. I would guess each of the tiny gems is designed to hold a 'heart' -- whether that's physical or spiritual or symbolic I don't know -- and that if all five gems are filled, some kind of contingency will fire that will somehow aid Bal-Zat. Or maybe he literally canNOT come back at ALL without it, as I infer from what this…Camor said. If that's the case, you should leave the medallion here, with us, and we will lock it in Hec Salazar's tower, the Great Tower of this library. I know we had a theft recently, but that is the first one in over a thousand years. Our track record for keeping items safe is quite good."
She gives you a motherly cluck of her tongue. The noise is alarming. "Don't fret about what's under the city. We have well-near a regiment of soldiers under there right now working to close the hole and investigate more thoroughly what happened last night. You and Kelne and the others are heroes, you did excellent work, but it is no longer your concern. You must let it go and relax your mind, you must focus on keeping your new family safe -- Cassandra and little Kevin. Kevin will stay here, he is in no fit shape to travel, but you have to help his sister come back to him." The great dragon makes sure you are looking her in the eye. "You're the only family they've got, too, you know! You're not the only orphan in that group. "
"It will take us a while to tease out exactly what Ormir was after, especially since we have no access to Ormiria -- all those roads are closed now, and the Red Dragonflight is shifting the borders. Olmskoldsv, we fear, is in danger." She sits back and sips her tea in a startlingly delicate and fluid motion. "It will also take some research to discern just what our Archivist had to do with Bal-Zat. I am very glad you and Belsarious were able to locate and capture him, and I'm sorry he got to you so. I have no idea what happened to his mind, but whatever that madness was, I think it is too great a coincidence that all of you were touched by Bal-Zat in some direct way lost control of your faculties to a greater or lesser extent. I think it gets worse when you're near each other -- a ritual blood lust, designed to stir up wild magic, to get the killing started. None of you are mad, save when you are together. A lingering control, perhaps, left by Bal-Zat? Hmm. Seems far-fetched."
"And, as for the Great Confluence, well, " she sighs heavily "EVERYone wants to know exactly what that is and when it's going to happen. IF it's going to happen. The jury is still very much out in that regard. If it happens, and more importantly if it happens in the manner predicted, then there will be enough magical power washing across the land to free a hundred Bal-Zats. He would be the least of our concerns, were that to happen."
"Remember, Jorzan, you are not your past. The pain and shadow you came from need not define your future. Accept what you are, for only then can your road to change and growth begin. It will be a hard road, but I am not saying it will be easy. I am saying it will be worth it. And it all starts with that little girl up in the barracks."
Sir Justahl salutes his fellow Paladine as he approaches, then is brought up short with the astonishment of seeing Warbanians drinking imaginary tea.
Jarred out of his gawking by the sargent, he salutes again.
"Just... Seeking a word with Miss Cassandra, Seargent."
With a decent sleep behind him, Kelne set out to track down the emissary they'd brought back with them from Pechora. They'd left him to his own devices during last night's events, and he wanted to check that the man had at least had a chance to put his case to somebody. Truth be told, he didn't see that there was any chance for reinforcements from Stormfare to reach Pechora, even if they were any to be spared in light of the drow city on their doorstep. Still, he felt he ought to have a word in any case.
After that, he might as well look up the others, see who could make best use of the gear they'd retrieved from the pit and whether some should be exchanged for something diferent at the market.
Belsarious attempts to reference the ley lines themselves a map, of the lines and nexis that may exist.
Perception
Belsarious ponders the evil ones return from the phantom zone, that a soul might be contained and lie in wait within the ley lines themselves, is the phantom zone the same as the lines or some seperate nebula co-occuring?
DM
Dragon-singer?
Astar had excused himself from the librarian's quarters, intent on setting his affairs in order for his "trip". He finished off his monograph, compromising only a little on precisely the conclusions he wanted to make clear. He could have waited, but if he hadn't put his immediate thoughts down onto paper, they would remain in his mind, nagging him. He often likened this sensation to a memorized spell wanting to be cast, though only jokingly- the mechanism of such an annoyance was surely entirely different.
He flipped through some of his reference books, re-acquainting himself with some of the drier, more forgettable details of the areas he assumed would be traveled through. He wiped an oiled rag across his blade, a small bit of maintenance, and then hung it up on his coat rack, along with his coat. He laid the rest of his clothes out and, with the aid of a Polypurpose Panacea spell, sat down at his chair for a nap.
Three hours later he was awake, and he'd put the kettle on. As the water reached a boil, he sat at the edge of his chair, with his back perfectly straight. He was in deep concentration, piecing together the magical logic that would reconstitute the spell he'd used within his mind. It was a relaxing experience, as well as being akin to stretches preparing his mind for the tasks at hand.
Breakfast was black coffee, paired with bread and honey, and followed up with a glass of water.
It was still early, and cold, and wet, so he donned his cloak and took a brisk walk towards the stables to feed and brush his horse, Sentiment, before collecting him. It was a quick ride back to the quad, where he tied his steed to a post and set up his folding chair nearby, and waited for the rest of his new associates to be ready to move out.
He didn't know much about them, but if Van-Haera trusted them with such an important task, they couldn't be too bad. Of course, teamwork was dependent on being able to anticipate the successes and failures of those you were working with. Getting acclimated to a new 'crew' was always a bit rough. He'd manage, hopefully. After all, he was apparently "Smart Man".
The problem of true foresight, of that magnitude, would be enough to keep him up nights. Spending a few hours in the quad waiting, ruminating on such a massive issue would be a drop in the bucket.
Nasmarra has long eschewed sleep, finding the whole process unnecessary. While her physiology needs it as much as any human, her magical ring sustains her with minimal food and sleep. Her spells, regardless of their arcane or divine nature, require a full night of rest - but she finds the process of studying and focusing her mind far more restful and useful than actual sleep. She spends the night taking summarized notes that may provide answers to questions that might arise. The journals themselves are too fragile and valuable to take in their entirety, but their exact contents largely rest within her mind regardless. As the sun rises over Stormfare (as much as it ever does in the gray city), she puts the finishing touches on her own journal update before placing it in the bookshelf with the rest. She is fully aware that if she perishes during this journey, she will need the knowledge in her next regeneration.
She stands and collects the small possessions she owns, many of which were obtained by her prior reincarnations. The one item of any sentimental value is equally practical for her: an amulet, inscribed with the miniature faces of each incarnation except her First. Three small pearls, used to focus her magical talents, line the strands of enchanted leather. Her asceticism has little to do with spiritualism, as followers of Irori practice, but rather the inherent knowledge of the temporary nature of possessions.
Nasmarra makes her way out of the Great Tower, naturally taking pains not to be seen as she exits. She makes no effort to disguise herself as she walks out of the base of the Tower, as she may need the magical energy later in the days. A few of the students see her and point excitedly, talking amongst themselves about a good omen for their upcoming examinations. She pays little attention to them as she walks into the University quad. She saw the man she looks for now while gazing outside the window of her office.
With no preamble and no attention for anyone else, she glides up to Astar. To him, she must seem wholly natural in Stormfare. The gray clouds that cover the sky make her seem gloomy and mysterious, much like the city itself at times. However, it does not take much effort to see that she has an intellect rivaling his own, also like the city. Nasmarra nods to Astar as he looks up to her. When she speaks, he is shocked (as much as anything shocks him) at the hypnotic power of her voice. It is a voice of subtlety and unsaid promises, like the rumor of an unopened ancient library. "Astar Djikstra. I have read much of your work. It is an impressive body of knowledge. I incorporated much of your theoretical work regarding the mind's inherent receptiveness to enchantment into my own spells. It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Nasmarra, in my Sixteenth regeneration. I apologize for being rather laconic yesterday. I had much to think on."
"Well I for one will definately miss having you around for the conversation at the very least. Though I guess you are right, you would be placing yourself in harms way if we are going to be near the white dragons hunting grounds. If that trinket is that dangerous I have a set of clamps here in my engineering supplies.
Here, just let me . . . Okay. There we go. Anything else I might do for you please let me know.
Hurin will make small talk, but if the dragon says she is going to make a flight he will offer to go along if she would like company. He will also ask if she has seen any interesting things especially dwarven artifacts in her journeys.
Lin nods in thanks to Hurin, clearly relieved to have the item in a more secure place. She didn't want to hurt the Dwarf's feelings either as she planned on going as quick as she could across the land and avoiding what enemies that she could. "As much as it would be an interesting flight with company I don't think it would be enjoyable. The trip will take many days, of which I plan to be flying hard, fast and avoiding threats if i'm able. I think one of your talents would be better suited here, on the ground and fighting with similarly skilled allies."
She leans her head back and thinks on if they had seen any dwarven artifacts and after a few moments she shakes her head sadly. "None that I can remember, we did visit an old dwarven redoubt that had housed the Lionheart Cavalier's at some point and appeared to be a massive place, we never quite finished clearing it out..."
@Justahl: The day sergeant smiles at you, his eyes crinkling up with genuine mirth. "Well sir, I reckon you'll have to request a seat at the tea table then, won't you?" It's clear the man isn't reading your body language, and doesn't know that you're actually worried about something. It's also pretty clear that this is the first time any of these soldiers has honestly relaxed in a very, very long time. It's a clear breach of discipline, but probably doing wonders for their morale.
@Kelne: It doesn't take you long to find out the guardsman from Pechora was given room and board gratis, and will be speaking with the city council today, and not long from now. You can easily make it there if you wish to attend.
As you are considering your next move, you become aware of a dwarf walking towards you. At first you make the logical assumption that it is Hurin, but as this dwarf gets closer you realize it is most definitely not the forgelander that has recently come to your group.
This dwarf is rather tall, and extremely broad and strong. He wears impossibly clean and shining plate armor that bears a crossed longsword and hammer and has spikes jutting out at strategic points, spikes that are not decorative, but are intended for actual use. On his back are two massive battle axes, both obviously magical. His helm is also decorated with symbols of both Torag and Iomedae, and he walks with the sureness and purpose of a veteran campaigner. He is clearly not a northerner; you can tell by his beard and hair he's from Maho, or thereabouts. A miner more than a crafter, then. Sure enough you note he still has a good, quality pickaxe on his pack among all the weapons of war.
He walks up and stops about a dozen paces away, respecting your space. "Are you the one called Kelne?" he asks plainly. Students and faculty are moving around the quad, but giving the two of you wide berth.
@Belsarious: Finding a ley line map in this library is actually fairly trivial. Ley lines are mostly a curiosity, and don't have as much practical value as one might expect. They're more significant as "roadways" for ghosts or other non-material beings, and as indicators of power flow. Power from ley line nexuses can be harnessed, but the effort involved is non-trivial, to say the least.
"Ah, yes, of course." Sir Justahl nods weakly at the sergeant.
Feeling like an intruder on the fun, Justahl approaches the table.
"Um, Miss Cassandra, might I have a word? It shouldn't take long."
@Sir Justahl: Cassandra answers without looking up. "Shining Man! Hi! Of course I have time for you, sit and I'll pour you some tea!" The Warbanians nod in agreement. "Yeah, sir knight, have a seat with us common soldiers and our Mistress of Ceremonies, the Lady Cassandra." No one appears to have caught your hint that you wanted to speak to Cassandra alone, or at least away from the people in this room.
"I am indeed," Kelne said, giving the dwarf a polite nod, "What can I do for you?" While the dwarf definitely struck him as very dangerous to an enemy, there was no reason to think he fell into that category, and so no harm in talking. No doubt there was some reason he in particular had been sought out. Hopefully it wasn't another of those blasted posters. He could easily see them plaguing him for quite some time, constituting Ormir's final petty revenge. Then again, such posters were unlikely to have gone up here in Stormfare. Best not to form conclusions just yet.
Reddening a little, Justahl gives a little nod. Looking around, he eases his metallic bulk down on a child-sized bench, which gave an ominous creeek as he settled.
Being prompted by the Warbanians, he mimiced taking a cup of tea.
Don't do it fool! Seeing is never pleasant for her; it'll destroy whatever peace she's found here... His mind chattered endlessly.
"I called Nouhves this morning..." His mouth said unheeding. "He didn't come."
He hesitated.
"Cassandra; I know I have no right to ask. But, can you see him? Is he alright? He's not stuck in one of those gem-prisons is he, like where we found Kevin?"
Hurin sees Astar and Nasmarra chatting in the quad. Since he has not done so yet he wanders over and introduces himself formally.
"Astar I am looking forward to picking free any knowledge you have about Dwarven engineering and histories, they tell me you've read and forgotten more knowledge than the average professor around here has in his head. I also understand you are a warrior that uses technique and theory over brawn and a heavy blade. I'll have to watch and see if you've got some moves I can use. Looks like we should find sometime to spar while out on the trail."
"And I never thought I would be traveling with a ghost Mage, but I am glad to have your magical skills on our side mam, hopefully the combined wisdom and knowledge from your pasts will aid us here in our present and future. I know they call you the Ghost of the Tower, but if you have a name you would rather be called please let me know, and forgive my ignorance, but before yesterday, I had never heard of one of your people. If you hae anything you would like to share of your people I would genuinely like to hear you speak on it.
@Kelne: The dwarf nods. He closes the last bit of distance between you, taking off his pack as he does. "Name's Gotrek. I am called The Awakener. I was in Olmskoldsv yesterday, on business. This morning I met a woman; a vampire. She was kind to me, bought me a drink, gave me some information I needed. When she learned I was headed south to Nouakchott she asked only that I do this favor for her in return." He takes something out of one of the inner pockets in his rucksack, stands, and drops it into your hand. You recognize it instantly as belonging to Keshla. You gave it to her in...more pleasant times. Before that night, before Ormir. Gotrek also gives you an envelope. It is sealed with the wax crest of the Baron.
"She said you'd know what this all meant." Gotrek picks his bag up and slings it onto his back. Shrugging it into place, he gives a friendly nod. "That's my business done, then. Good luck to you, sir. I've a boat to catch." With that, he starts off towards the wharf.
Ormir is dead. I don't know if you killed him, but things are very different now.
I will find you. I hope you are ready for me when I do.
k
@Justahl: There is an embarrassed silence. The two mercenaries in front of you give you dirty looks, as if to say "Oh come on! Now?! Really?!" However, some of the Paladine know exactly what you are talking about, and their embarrassment is tempered greatly with empathy, for they know just how terrifying such an event would be, were they in your shoes.
A heavy pause hangs in the air. Finally, Cassandra speaks; "I don't know where your horsey is, Shining Man. I See him, though, somewhen. You're riding him, and so am I. We're in winter. We're..." She breaks off. "Did you just come here to ask that?" She pouts.
@Kelne: The dwarf nods. He closes the last bit of distance between you, taking off his pack as he does. "Name's Gotrek. I am called The Awakener. I was in Olmskoldsv yesterday, on business. This morning I met a woman; a vampire. She was kind to me, bought me a drink, gave me some information I needed. When she learned I was headed south to Nouakchott she asked only that I do this favor for her in return."
Nasmarra looks at Hurin for a long moment. The silence fills the space between them as she appraises the dwarf, lingering far beyond the space of polite etiquette. Her white, eerie eyes stare at him with intensity far beyond normal curiosity. Finally, she speaks in a voice that at once terrifies and draws him in. "You know of what I am? I am no spirit. I have lived but one life, each incarnation as long and full as any dwarf's. I have cycled through death and life Fifteen times now. In the wisdom of my Sixteenth regeneration, I am called Nasmarra." Her words are not spoken as a kindly teacher imparting wisdom, but rather as a cool recitation of fact.
Grey wakes up from his nights rest and starts his morning prayers to the goddess of the grave.
After an hour passes he begins to gather his belongings and heads to closest cemetery. As he walks he eats some jerky for breakfast.
Upon reaching the cemetery he renews his sage incense in his thurible hanging from his belt. Lighting it with the spark spell. Wandering aimlessly zigzagging thru the headstones while mouthing silent prayers to all who have moved on.
Gray will spend his afternoon doing this. After he walks through this cemetery he will move to the next one in the city.
He does this most of the morning and into the after noon. Grey finds the comfort and silence in the dead.
"Cassandra..." Justahl cannot seem to meet her eyes for some reason. "I can't just leave him..."
Abruptly he stands up with a groan of protest from the bench.
He gives a stiff bow.
"I apologize for interrupting your tea, Miss Cassandra. I will take my leave then."
Astar rose from his chair in a gesture of politness, and tipped his hat to the Samsaran, taking a moment to consider his words before replying. Nothing wrong with a straight, clean reply, in matters like these.
"Thank you. Practical concerns are interesting, though most people seem to ignore the deeper concepts of 'Arcane Expression of Thought and Logic', that what I propose as similarity in mechanism between real memory and arcane memory, and the results of that, are simply a way of being more in tune with one's spells. It's really more about the mind's ability to do those things at all. I don't want to continuously namedrop my own work, but in 'Mind as Mirror' the interlinking of memorization, cognization and invocation are addressed in fuller detail. Anyways, hello, Nasmarra."
It was hard, sometimes, for Astar to remember that understanding was better for him than seeking to be understood. And now Hurin was making a direct appeal to his knowledge. Again he could feel his ego thrashing. It would be unseemly to openly accept any such flattery, so he did his best to continue redirecting away from himself and to his work.
"For engineering, well, I try not to over-categorize cultural styles. It's stifling. As for my bladework, well, I feel you'll appreciate that my scimitar is made of adamantine."
He let Nasmarra continue the conversation. Truthfully he'd never met a Samsaran before, though he was keenly aware of what he thought of as their ability to cheat death. He'd certainly spent some time greedily wondering, and calculating with agonizing precision, just what he'd be able to do with an extra thousand or so years. Of course, who wouldn't?
Goes to find the shadow dancer to warn him of the possible threat should he intersect a ley line......
Also DM
I would like to get a locket with a heightened continual flame cast inside of it.....heightened to at least 4th level.....
From the moment she begins speaking to him, Jorzan begins to calm down. Despite her incredible size, and the fact that she's a dragon, the great Brass nevertheless exudes a palpable aura of motherhood, and it is something the confused and distraught young rogue responds powerfully to. Almost immediately his weeping stops as he listens intently to her words, leaning towards her and often nodding thoughtfully along with what she says.
When she mentions her theory though about those who have been touched by Bal-Zat though, his face takes on a disturbed, angry and thoughtful expression as he considers the possibility, and the implications of such a thing.
It is her last words though that seem to have the biggest impact on him though, and as a silence extends for several heartbeats after she finishes, he finally stands, back straight, expression grim, eyes fierce and determined as he says "Yes, you are right. I cannot change my past, and I am what I am. No matter what that monster may have done to me in the past, I am my own man now. And no one determines my fate or my actions but me! And I will do anything to ensure that little girl remains safe. Thank you Van-Haera, thank you more than you know or than I can properly express. I...I have never...[sigh], I've never had anyone I could speak to like this. I never got to know my mother, I don't even know if she's alive, or who she is, but, well, I could only hope that she possess even a fraction of your wisdom and kindness. I can see clearly now why Karthan grew into the remarkable man that he is. He is very lucky to have you."
As he finishes speaking he stands still for a moment and, with a slight nod of his head, takes off his wooden dagger necklace and hands it to her with the explanation "I do not need this anymore. It is a reminder of who I was, not who I am. Perhaps if Karthan is able to someday rejoin us, he could use this to locate us? Regardless, I leave it you, do with it as you will."
He then takes the medallion into his hands again and spends several more silent moments considering it. It's clear that he is making a decision, a very difficult one for him, and is having trouble making up his mind. Finally though he sighs and places it her her huge palm "I cannot explain why, but a part of me feels very strongly that I should not part with this medallion. As well, it now contains the essence of one who I, however briefly, and strangely, considered a brother. But, you are right, for I cannot imagine a safer place for it than here with you in the Great Tower, and if by its being here we can prevent Bal-zat's return, then I really have no choice but to leave it here. I just...well, perhaps I shall be able to get in back from you someday? Thank you again, you have given me new hope and strength. I am sure you have much to do, as do I, before we depart, so I shall not take up any more of your valuable time. I shall see you again this evening, yes?"
And unless she wants anything else of him, or has anything else to say, the Shadowdancer soon makes his departure, his living shadow following closely behind him.
Kelne folded the letter carefully and tucked it into a pocket. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it on a personal level. On the one hand, a confrontation between the two of them was inevitable, and if Keshla wanted to hasten it, so much the better. On the other, the reminder that she had full access to the memories of her previous existence was a decidedly unwelcome one. In the end though, nothing had really changed. He had a duty to the woman she'd once been to put down the monster she'd become. More than that, he had a duty to her future victims.
Abandoning his introspection, Kelne decided to attend the guardsman's meeting with the council. He could be provide some moral support, and had an interest in finding out the outcome. Truth be told, he suspected he knew what it would be, given the circumstances. Then again, it never did to make assumptions about what could or couldn't be done, and abandoning Pechora to the depredations of whichever major or minor power took an interest in the region sat badly with him.
After his morning walk. Gray heads back towards where we last saw the group. The Quad. He sits at his normal bench and begins writing in the ledger as normal.
Figuring someone will talk/go to him when he is needed.
"Here comes the cleric back from his walk, we should go meet him."
Hurin walks over.
"The name's Hurin Sundershield . . . (and the rest you have heard.), always good to see a healer in the party!"
Looking up to Hurin he flashes a a quick smile and chuckle.
"I well met Hurin, But I would hardly call this a party. So, Sundershield. Is that a family name?"
As Hurin answers he closes his book and places it into his bag.
@Kelne: The council meeting goes rather well, mostly due to the pragmatism of the Pechorran people, as expressed by their representative. The guardsman informs the Prefect and the Aldermen that Pechora actually has solid and qualified soldiers left, they are just few in number; it was far easier for Ormir to keep the guards and troops around and just overthrow their minds, rather than import his own forces wholesale. Alderman Jonssan makes a pained face and looks about to say something when the guardsman quickly interrupts him:
"Alderman. Before you say it, let me just tell you that I know the situation; I know troops are stretched thin and I should expect no martial aid. This is fine. If you can but help us with repairs and supplies, that will be help enough. Aside from that, though, the number one thing we need help with, is magical defense. Ormir slowly poisoned the minds of our mages and destroyed them first when he took the city, which rendered us completely defenseless against his charms and compulsions. If you can aid us magically, well, we Pechorrans are made of stern stuff; the River Pech runs icy in our veins and we stand strong like the rocky hills around us. We'll persevere until this threat that darkens the land is over."
The entire council is taken aback, and a motion quickly carries to send a team of arcanists and clerics to Pechora along with a small war chest to help the Pechorrans rebuild and purchase necessary supplies from trade caravans. The guardsman, for his part, is stoic but seems satisfied to get what aid he can, and looks honestly relieved at the impending arrival of powerful magical aid in his city-state.
A tall, very overweight courtesan, well past her prime but still garbed in the silks and sultry garments of her trade, wanders into the Quad. Seeing the obviously well proportioned and wealthy adventerers gathered there, her painted on eyebrows shoot up in surprise and pleasure and quickly narrow in speculation. After a few seconds expertly sizing up potential clients, she makes a beeline for the big Northerner.
Slinking up to Kelne, she poses in a most disturbing manner and breathes at him "Well big boy, you most certainly look as if you can handle a real woman of size and unbelievable ability. Or are you one of those types who likes his wenches skinny and breakable? But no matter, either way, you've caught me in a good mood and I may just be inclined to give you a discount today. Well, what do you say, my hero?"
Disguise:
Kelne Perception:
Yup, it's Jorzan
Finally unable to contain himself at the expression on the warrior's face, the courtesan doubles over in laughter. A few seconds later, the figure wavers as if submerged underwater and in it's place is revealed a young, darkly clad male. Wiping his eyes and standing up straight, managing to finally control his mirth Jorzan says "Man! That was priceless! You should have seen the look on your face Kelne. I've seen you face horrifying monsters but I don't think I've ever seen you that terrified before, hahaha. Anyway, I guess this bracelet of disguise works like it's supposed to. Made a stop at the market for a few things and I picked up another one of these bracelets for Cassandra as well. Figure it might help us stop attracting attention from all those who are looking for us." and indeed, as well as the bracelet, those who know the rogue can see that he has several new items on or about his person, most notably the darkly metallic and incredibly well balanced looking Flying Talon coiled on his hip.
"Van-Haera also got all those items we found down by the drow city identified. Here, you can all take a look." and he begins pulling items out of his Haversack, passing them around for all to see. Very quickly, the items are distributed to their new owners.
Once that is done, Jorzan once again address Kelne, but pitches his voice so any who are interested can hear "I also learned a few interesting things from the Librarian. Most of them were of a personal nature, but there was some interesting information about Bal-Zat some of you may want to hear." and he proceeds to explain the ritual of summoning that he had learned from the great Brass.
"Finally, there was one more thing I'm sure you'll be interested in Kelne. Seems that mad alchemist of Ormir's that we fought is awake and in custody. I was thinking perhaps we might interrogate him and possibly find out where that treasure chamber is and then see about finally rescuing those prisoners in the gems." "And getting our hands on the rest of that treasure." he mumbles more to himself. "It shouldn't take too long I'm thinking and we still have several hours before we're supposed to meet Van-Galazzan and Van-Heara here this evening. What do you say? You coming?"
It is 2:00 in the afternoon when you all begin to gather in the quad. It is very windy right now, a strong blustering gale roaring in off the ocean. Large grey-white clouds go scudding by overhead, occasionally dropping an indifferent sprinkle of spitting rain, but no serious precipitation. The sun peeks in and out between these clouds, causing large sun-dogs to shine down and illuminate parts of the city, which like a drunk flinching at the sunrise seems ill-prepared for the golden light of day to make visible its hidden corners. Many shopkeepers and citizens take advantage of the respite from the rain to help clean up after last nights' terrors and sinkholes, and to clean and straighten their own businesses and domiciles as well, as if the sun were an auditor, and found their dwellings lacking.
You have a little over six hours before Van-Galazzan and Van-Haera are due to arrive and convey you to whatever method it is they've contrived to get you out to the woods northeast of Kurgan.
It is in this context that the Shadowdancer Jorzan speaks his piece about interrogation and treasure...
"Jorzan! I had sought you, wheather true err not I must tell you. Near tha ley lines a spirit ken attempt entry intah a vessel, I know tha spirit exists there an tha scholar named you as a vessel, I thought perhaps wanrin yah tah aviod tha ley would be welcome news."
The Shadowdancer turns to the Witch as his name is called. When he hears the news Belsarious has to impart, Jorzan's nods once, clearly somewhat disturbed by the news, but also grateful to have been made aware of it "Thank you...Belsarious, is it? While I wouldn't call the news itself as welcome, the warning most certainly is. But these ley lines, do you know where they are, or how to identify them? Do you perhaps have a map of them? I'm assuming they cannot be seen with the naked eye, yes?"
As Belsarious comes into the Quad and begins speaking with the shadowy rogue, Tora'an clops closer to Lin and speaks quietly to her "Show note and artifact to him, yes?" using his big nose to point towards the Eldritch Knight.
Did he say GEMS and hidden treasure! Well a few more hours couldn't hurt certainly AND treasure could help them on the journey!
"this hidden place would be where the Paladin's magical horse is too? I would also think capturing the items held there would deprive our enemies of them as well would it not?