Steamfont Mountains
Minotaurs, harpies, kobolds, drakes and other creatures pose major threats to travelers in the Steamfont Mountains, which the gnomes claim as their own. King Ak'Anon's guards patrol the entire range, but that is no guarantee of safety for them or anyone else. Gnomes routinely come up into an isolated area of the mountains to test a new invention. Visitors and residents alike can hear an occasional explosion echoing all around the peaks.
It is likely that it is these very gnomes that you can thank for uneventful journey up the Steamfont Mountains into Lesser Faydark.
Revery is confident that their pathway lies generally east to north-eastward, but is not confident in those directions to avoid dangers in between their current location and Kelethin.
What does bear fruit is to ask the beastlord about maps, since he has much more detailed maps of the Faydarks than the crude overview map of Faydark. While each of the maps have numbers on them there is no legend to explain what those numbers might mean.
Glancing at the Lesser Faydark map you deduce that you came over the Steamfont Mountains around #4 and likely went to Greater Faydwark on a pathway to #1. This second climb seems to have placed you west of #14 on the Greater Faydark map.
Felwithe
The high elves call Felwithe their home and many others have longed to do the same. A quiet, serene palatial city in the Greater Faydark, Felwithe does not have the bustling markets and riffraff of a larger city. In their place is a quiet undercurrent of magic and old, but living, tradition. A river runs through the town, and the wizard, enchanter and magician guilds claim an ivory spire rising high above a pool of water on the far side of the city. The shining city is under the benevolent rule of King Tearis Thex.
Kelethin
Not far from its sister city of Felwith, Kelethin is the home of the wood elves and many half-elves. The wood elves live safely on their platforms in the treetop city above the marauding Crushbone orcs. The platforms have no railing, which can be disconcerting to visitors. Dwarves especially feel intimidated by the city since they are used to living far below ground, not far above it. However, the residents need no railing or other such safety measures, and the guardsmen appreciate the flexibility it gives them in firing on targets below. Around the city lifts carry people and goods from the grounds to the platforms nestled within the treetops. Visitors who aren't interested in nature may find that the city has little to offer them due to Kelethin's close ties with its environment. The druids and rangers watch over the city as its protectors and guardians.
While the cities are labeled, so is Crushbone, which you know to be the home of the Crushbone orcs. It is a place you wish to give a wide berth.
After a month and more of travel (all rations long since eaten, waterskins half full since the last chance to refill them), and more than a dozen battles, it is this moment, just a handful of hours into your camp in the Greater Faydark, where you get the true measure of the distance before you. You have well over 300 miles ahead of you, and thus far there have been no watering holes to refill your waterskins. You can easily refill the waterskins with snow, after clambering out of the forest's zone of influence, but it is not looking good going further in.
What awaits you is a distance of at least 20 days, considering how soft the ground is in your most conservative estimation.
Revery tries to figure out a few things about the map. It's unclear whether those squiggly lines are intended to represent rivers or streams, or are just embellishments representing forest.
Wilderness Lore:
One thing he is perplexed about is the lack of water. Plants and some creatures can absorb water or use less-than-clean sources of it, but other creatures need relatively clean water to survive. He thinks of the trees and how their leaves curl upward. He looks up at the trees.
"I think we need to explore a little, to better understand this forest. And I think we should start by going up. I can give each of us a levitating boost, and once we reach the branches of the broadfoot trees, we may be able to climb higher quite easily. Or perhaps just one or two of us? I think Sajeek and Kwen are good climbers...."
Not having the slightest idea how to get to Felwithe or Kelethin, Gramorn half listens to Revery and Sajeek debating the best path to take and spends some time chatting with Ksenya. The old man is nothing if not entertaining and talking with him helps distract the halfling from the fact he's walking through a humid forest with mosquitoes large enough to carry him off, while wearing plate mail.
"Kelethin looks to be closer. By the looks of the map, if we stick to the base of the mountains and edge of the forest, we should be able to avoid the orcs," Sajeek looks up from the two maps and grins. "And I'm all for avoiding large groups of orcs. Especially since we don't have a giant handy."
At the mention of climbing the trees, Sajeek blinks a few times. The vah shir tilts his head back, looking up into the the trees. He smiles.
"I think Kwen and I should be able to handle it," Sajeek says. Looking back at the enchanter he nods. "I think we can make it without you having to use magics on us." The vah shir says with a nod. "'cause you never know when were going to need your magics." He grins. "I'll try not to fall, I promise."
Selecting a nearby tree, not that there was a shortage, Sajeek looks up at the massive plant. It was pretty damn tall. Falling would certainly hurt, if not outright kill. 'Right, no falling, good plan.' Sajeek thinks to himself with a lopsided grin.
"Oh, sorry, forgot to mention this earlier. I can summon water for us, so no worries about clean drinking water. Completely slipped my mind," Sajeek chuckles.
That said, the vah shir begins his ascent. Not hurrying, or trying to show off, Sajeek carefully climbs. He really had no desire to fall earthward.
Very early in your journey you come across the a tall, rocky hill and atop this hill stand 4 curved stone spires, each more than four times the height of a human. These Wizard Spires (#14) curve inward, as if protecting the diamond-shaped space between, in which the dirt and loose stone have been removed to expose smooth granite beneath. This granite diamond is perfectly level, and has been polished to a high shine; except for the strange runes carved around its edges and in two lines bisecting it from point to point, the shiny grey surface is unmarred. The spires themselves are carved of the same granite, square in cross-section with sharp, clean corners, and the same runes spiral up around them. At its tip, each spire holds a small white stone carved into a four-sided pyramid — these tips are affixed by some indiscernible means, adhering to the spires as if part of them.
This is an important find since this is the closest means of teleportation for wizards on the continent. It is also a means of getting to Luclin, should the need arise.
Pravus Mortis easily skirts the mysteries and dangers of the Greater Faydark.
Working on a heading generally eastward, using the Steamfont Mountains as a guide, the group makes good time, and just over two tendays later they arrive at the wood elf city.
Kelethin:
This tree city is one of Faydwer’s most noteworthy and remarkable features. Built among the giant trees of the Greater Faydark, Kelethin is home to the Fier’Dal (and a goodly portion of Norrath’s half elves). Where Felwithe is often thought of (at least by elves) as the heart of Faydwer and Kaladim is widely known as the “jewel” or the “emerald of Faydwer,” Kelethin is felt by many elves and humans to embody the eastern continent’s spirit. As you get closer you see a few barbarians, dwarves, halflings, high elves, half elves and some humans, but the dominant race is wood elves, a quick estimate places their numbers over 7000.
It is a disconcerting feeling trusting a gnomish lift, under the watchful eye of the Emerald Warriors standing constant vigil so that none may use the lifts but friends of Kelethin, to access the city. Pulleys, gears, and some gnomish trickery permit the lifts to raise up, seemingly effortlessly the hundreds of feet up into the tree city. Taverns, banks, inns, smiths merchants, bowyers, spell sellers....nearly anything can be found in this city.
You learn of the Caravan Road (#1 on Greater Faydark map), though the tale is long, leaving it for only those that can sit through the extensive words.
In the earliest days of the cities, merchants were forced to strike out in small parties or even on their own, threading their way through the forest as best they could and trying desperately not to get turned around. Bards still sing of the Merchant Tanse, who set out from Felwithe with a fat belly, a short dark beard, and five full wagons. Three months later, he reappeared, rail-thin, with a long white beard and a single wagon. Tanse was utterly shocked and dismayed, however, to learn that he was back in Felwithe, and even more upset when rangers followed his trail back for some distance — in fact, he had never made it to Kelethin, but had instead walked in circles the entire time, never more than two days’ ride from his departure point!
After a time, however, the merchants came together and agreed that something had to be done to improve their methods. They hired rangers and loggers, paying them well and in advance. The loggers chopped down three trees right before the gates of Felwithe, and then went after the trees straight across from those. They kept going, with the rangers not only protecting them from wildlife but keeping them in a roughly straight line, until they had reached Kelethin. The trees they’d logged were cut into lumber and used to build guardhouses along the road, and the rest was taken back to Felwithe. But where the trees had stood was now a dirt road, wide enough to fit two narrow wagons side- by-side (or one heavy wagon and some oxen), linking the two cities together.
The resulting Caravan Road is reasonably straight, with no detours or side roads, for the loggers simply cut down any trees directly in front of them. The road makes up one of the few areas in Greater Faydark from which the sky can be seen overhead — the trees on either side do still provide some cover, but the canopy was thinned enough that both sunlight and rain can reach the ground. Vines, moss, and mushrooms were either ripped out or burnt away, and the road is now, centuries later, comprised of hard-packed dirt from the passage of countless hundreds of wagon wheels; despite the open sky, no grass grows here. A wagon trek along the entire length of the road usually takes the better part of a month, including stops to rest the animals.
Two stout cabins exist along the road, about 4 or 5 days’ march from one another (and perhaps shorter or longer depending on the length of one’s stride, how much he has to carry, whether he leads slow-moving wagons, etc.). These cabins are sturdy, plain log structures built from the trees cut down for the road. Rangers use them as way stations, and merchants prefer to stop their wagons along-side them for the night when they can.
Each station stands a full two stories tall, with a flattened roof. The first floor is a single large room with long tables and benches. Travellers take their meals here, and can sleep under the tables or in the middle of the floor if they like. The second floor is comprised of several smaller rooms for the rangers themselves. The roof has a railing around it, and at least one ranger is stationed here at all times to serve as a lookout. In front of the station are railings for tying animals and troughs for watering them. Several wide basins set alongside the cabins collect rainwater, which is then poured into a cistern behind the house.
Merchants have requested several times that more of these way stations be built. Their chief concern is the bandits, who tend to attack somewhere between the two stations or between a station and the nearest city. Because many days’ travel can occur without seeing either a station or a city, the bandits can strike and disappear again before anyone can come to the merchants’ aid. Unfortunately, building new stations would mean chopping down more trees or bringing wood from Felwithe. However, the ruling druids have forbidden any additional logging in the area, stating that the road is already a grievous wound to the forest and that any additional damage could awaken Faydark’s wrath. Most of the merchants think this is antiquated foolishness, but others disagree, and the rangers respect the druids and would rather err on the side of caution.
The senior Faydark’s Champion in this area, Castilian Vinerunner, does send individual rangers out regularly to scout between the Caravan Road way stations, and he always has at least one ranger posted along each stretch of the road to minimize the risk. This has helped the situation somewhat — although a group of bandits could no doubt defeat a single ranger, doing so would cause all the rangers to hunt them down openly, so they almost always give the rangers a wide berth. Observant bandits can still hit a merchant and flee before a ranger can arrive, however, by timing the attack carefully.
The Caravan Road has other dangers as well. Giant wasps occasionally take up residence in a tree near the road, and they sometimes attack merchants who pass too close to them (anywhere within 60 feet of the nest). The rangers have been able to fight off the wasps, but the nests are sometimes too high for them to reach and too massive for their arrows to do much damage. Eventually, these wasps have to be killed and their nests removed, or the road could be come impassable.
This is the city Justis and her mother fled to, and subtle inquiry reveals that they made it and are doing well, even flourishing back with their people.
A high elf barks about the war, seeking volunteers with martial skills to join in the effort. The pay is 5 gold a day, one need only present one of the parchments he is more than happy to provide, to book passage from Felwithe to Kunark. You recognize that you will be joining in as fodder for the battles against the iksar, which simple-minded dedication to your captain's commands does not really match up well with the group's dedication to free will. At least the boat will bring you to the continent, the rest you can work out from there.
A month and more journey, though the snows, awaits along the Caravan Road.
Travel, especially long travel, is much like meditation, thinks Revery. You slog away, and after a time your discomfort is replaced by boredom, which is replaced by thoughts that percolate up from who-knows-where, and invade your reality in the form of waking dreams. At least, for Revery it is thus. Trees become alive, as all they have learned about them and all he has read about them and all the fauna and other flora they have seen meld into a strange and wonderful story. He reminds himself to write this one down - perhaps children would like it.
Reaching Kelethin, Revery is happy to finally be in civilization again. His Elven is much improved (4 ranks), though he still flounders for words occasionally, and he still has a combination Common/Erudin accent when he speaks.
He nods knowingly as he observes the gnomish lift doing its thing. Counterweights, pulleys, gears and speed reducers, brakes (he assumes), most of them hidden from the eye, all do their mechanical magic to lift them seemingly effortlessly into the safety of the tree canopy where the city truly resides.
Revery is eager to see Justis and her mother again, for he would like another look at her for his statue. She must have grown some, though being Elvish it would not be nearly as much as if she were human. But a flashback of the horror of the underground prison makes him wonder if they would want to see the group. No doubt it would bring back those horrors to the poor girl. "Perhaps we should not endeavour to visit Justis and her mother," he suggests to the others. "We do not wish to stir up old nightmares. Instead, a short note to her mother alone, indicating we are here but we understand if she or Justis does not want to meet us. Because it is of course possible she would wish to see us."
When the option to join the war effort appears, Revery suggests to the others that it may be best to join a caravan to Felwithe, and once there, talk to the military officials, letting them know of the group's unique skills and linguistic abilities, with two or more of them speaking Elvish and most of them speaking Iksar. "I have no desire, nor confidence in my fighting skills, to be a foot soldier."
Gramorn sighs in relief upon seeing the city, though the lifts and ramps are disconcerting. The little halfling in plate mail will certainly draw looks crossing the bridges clumsily.
Nodding at Revery, he says, "Agreed, even those of us with marital skills would be wasted as foot soldiers. I don't think they would complain having people of our abilities on their side, even if we operate outside the chain of command."
" Yeah, I don't think I would be good at their fighting tactics at all, I'm not one for fighting in a line, or being pelted by arrows. I would say skirmishes, hit and run attacks are more of my forte, or using poison bombs, arrows, and blades is more where I can be of use." Kwen says perfectly at ease with crossing the bridges, in fact in the year that Kwen had been traveling with the others, his movements seemed more like a full blooded elf.
Although Kwen seems more at ease here in a city that had more half-elfs and full blooded elfs, he feels slightly out of place. He would rather be back in the city, where he could move with the crowd and blend in with the crowd, being completely hidden and unnoticed. Still the forest while beautiful to say the least, feels different.
The journey had been filled with moments of boredom, then dealing with fey creatures or bandits had been difficult, Kwen had been focused on making sure that nothing had left any more traps. He had been annoyed that he had missed that lethargic bliss trap and getting punctured by the thorns had been embarrassing to Kwen.
You are surprised by two things in your journey to Kelethin.
1) Ksenya plans to remain in Felwithe for a time beyond the group's time there. He said he was joining you, but not for how long.
2) Ksenya speaks every single language there is to know and he helps any that are interested in learning the nuances of the tongue (can learn up to 5 ranks). As an expert in the iksar tongue he will train their officers to speak it.
Each of the lifts is operated by a lever, which activates the mechanism 30 seconds later, either lowering or lifting the ramp until the lever is pulled again at the bottom or top. Each lift is roughly 30' square and can hold approximately 40 elves, or 35 humans at once, or a maximum of 12,500 pounds.
Gramorn finds a merchant selling a thick oil for his metal equipment for 3 gold pieces for a jar.
Kelethin is a free-living town, and newcomers may be a bit aghast at some of the local customs. For instance, children are found playing freely upon the dangerously high platforms. Of course parents keep a watchful eye so that the young ones do not wander too close to the edge, but then it is said that wood elf children are taught to climb trees and rope ladders before they learn to walk.
Full-blooded elves wish they were as agile as the party's rogue. His movements are sinuous, with a preternatural agility bordering on perfection. None in the group has problems crossing from platform to platform due to very little sway in the wide bridges. What is completely disconcerting, both with the platforms and bridges, is the lack of handrails. It makes this city an uncomfortable visit, especially since you're ~200' in the air. Ksenya, a man that falls on even ground, constantly is found dangerously near the edge looking down.
Kwen finds that rogues are not regarded with suspicious and hostility in Kelethin. Wood elf rogues are known as "Scouts of Tunare." and they sere their people well by becoming the eyes and ears of the forests. These scouts not only serve as spies and scouts for Kelethin, but they are also among the finest woodland warriors and hunters that Norrath has to offer.
Half elves are a noteworthy matter in Kelethin (and in Felwithe, for that matter). When humans from Antonica began to travel more frequently across the ocean, intimate contact between elves and humans became inevitable. The Koada’Dal rarely found good reason to consort with non- elves, but the wood elves developed an instant liking for the feisty, passionate humans. Soon, inevitably, half elves were born, and while the tragedy of one parent aging — and dying — much more quickly than the other is always an issue, children born of elf and humankind are treated as family in Kelethin.
Rumors have also spread to the effect that those few Koada’Dal who do become intimate with humans (and produce offspring) are forced to send their children to Kelethin to live and grow up in foster families.
In fact, local custom regarding even visitors to the city is most easily summed up by one simple premise: “What is ours is yours.” Kelethites are known far and wide for their hospitality. Guests who find inns full up for the night are often invited into neighbouring homes, where they are treated to a fine dinner and given the best of the household’s beds. The master and/or mistress of the house has no issue with climbing into an old hammock to sleep for the evening if it means his or her guests are comfortable. Arguing with a wood elf over this custom is futile, as it is considered impolite to sleep soundly in one’s own bed while there are newcomers tossing and turning about.
Prices are high (book value +50%), but they are high for everyone equally, and considering how difficult it must be to get goods here, the price is likely fair.
Your night is spent in The Heartwood Tavern, run by Manlawen Heartwood, it is Kelethin's largest and most popular tavern and inn, which offers single rooms instead of just common rooms. It is a common, and lucrative, practice for bards to compete with one another in attempts to make a few coins from patrons.
It is nearly midnight when there is a knock on your doors and Justis and her mother come to visit. Though they had nothing upon their return their community took them in, and they show the results of full bellies and kindness. Tears flow, and hugs travel to even those that have never met them. Tales are shared of journeys, plans to join the war, and they look absolutely shocked that a city is being named after Justis. The warmth of friendship wanders through the early hours, and then they are gone. In their wake is a crude, but impressive necklace carved in the shape of a leaf from wood for each of the party, promise that they will book you passage on one of the caravans in the morning just a few hours away.
True to her word a loud wrap echoes in your room from the knock at the door. You are greeted by an elderly wood elf named Nenger Frostleaf. You are embraced by the wagonmaster's kind smile as he tells you that his caravan is leaving for Felwithe in a few hours and you are welcome to be on it free of charge. The journey will be over a month in length, but anyone joining the war effort is more than welcome to join them.
Sajeek had greatly enjoyed his time tracking through the ancient Faydark forests. While different in so many ways then the jungles where he had grown up, it had the same feeling. That sense of lurking danger that kept ones instincts sharp and ready. The others, City Dwellers at heart, tended to wear bored expressions. Sajeek on the other paw, always felt contained, almost trapped when he was in cites. He even felt that, to a lesser degree in Justis.
"I would rather us find Alric Farsight when we get to Felwithe. Since he is what's her name uncle, I would gather that his word carries some power," Sajeek pauses, making a sour face. "If he is still alive that is. He was battling a giant skeleton when he teleported us off the island. 'Cause, signing up as foot soldiers is going to restrict us, more then help. We might have to pay for our own passage, but I am fine with that." The vah shir grins. "By the sounds of it, joining the military isn't gonna work for us." The young Beastlord tugs on his left ear as he thinks.
Looking around the others, Sajeek gnaws on his lower lips for a moment.
"I would like to at least say "Hello" to both Justis and her mother. It would be a bit rude of us to have come here and not do so," Sajeek says, scratching his chin. He catches the look that he gets from Rev. "What? I lived with Gwen for almost a year. Enough cuffs to the back of the head got me to where clothes around her parents home. I do eventually learn." He sticks his tongue out at the enchanter.
After enjoying a fine meal, of which Bast ended up stealing most of, after finishing his own platter of meats. Manlawen Hartwood had spoiled the tiger, not that Bast was complaining. Quite the opposite, given how loudly the big tiger purred, earning him a few more snacks.
Much, much later, a bit after the pleasant and heartwarming reunion with the two rescued elves, Sajeek lay in his bed. The vah shir mulled over the day. Not to mention Ksenya's rather surprisingly telling them that he would be staying at Felwithe. Not that he could complain about what the old man would be doing, teaching the Iskar tongue to the elves that would be warring against the reptile folk. Sajeek couldn't help but feel like this was something that the Shissar's stinking claws had been involved in. It occupied and weakened two major opponents that the Shissar would have to fight.
Before he drifts off for a cat nap, Sajeek makes a mental note to talk to Ksenya. The vah shir wanted to brush up on his iskar.
When he was awoken by the elder Nenger Frostleaf, Sajeek finds his warm smile contagious. He smiles back at the elder and nods.
"We will be there. Many thanks," Sajeek with a nod as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.
Kwen decides to spend a little bit of free time that he has before asking more about the the rogues here, feeling a sense of longing, to spend more time here, but he had a feeling that he would become trapped in a mired existence, but pushing off the slight melancholy that started to creep up on him; squishing it before he would lose the day to introspection.
Hearing Ksenya would be staying here, Kwen had enjoyed the oddity that was the old wizard, he had some interesting stories. Kwen knew there was many languages that he could spend time to learn, but timing at the moment was everything.
Kwen was delighted to see that Justis and her mother were alright and well, Kwen can't help grinning at the sight of both of them. After they leave Kwen can't help take a nap until the door is knocked on again and the Wagon master Nengar Frostleaf.
Gramorn wanders unsteadily about the town, picking up a few jars of the oil to protect his equipment. He enjoys the company of the gregarious wood elves, but the lack of railing on these high ramps and bridges is very disconcerting to him. He takes the opportunity to seek out a bow or sling in the city.
He is also happy to finally meet the girl their new town is named for. He still feels a bit out of place as the group meets old friends at many of their stops, but he is slowly working his way into the group.
"Alric Farsight - remember what a jerk he was? Though he redeemed himself by saving our lives... Noggy will be sad to have missed him." Revery jokes. Shortly after that he is confused as Sajeek sticks out his cat tongue at him.
Revery is overjoyed to see Justis and her mother again, and is glad they are able to minimize any pain from bad memories. He tries to memorize the elfin face; now that he's seen more elves he is better able to distinguish differences between them. The visit is short, but that is probably for the best, as they have an early start in the morning.
Dreams of trees permeate his sleep. Trees and snails, and slugs. Luckily, in the dream the snails and slugs were going for Ksenya's brain; but for some reason, and despite his revulsion at those creatures, Revery feels jealous.
When they had gathered for a quick bite to eat before any last second picking up supplies, Sajeek looks over at Rev and grins.
"Concerning what you said last night about Alric. He wasn't a jerk, he was an ass. An epic ass at that," the vah shir says with a laugh. He takes a swig of his juice. "Still, he saved all of our lives, so he can't be that awful." Sajeek makes a face. "Okay he is that awful, but, this time we might be able to actually help out a little. Instead of us screaming and clinging to his robes like a child hiding behind their mother."
A while later, on there way to the caravan to met Frostleaf, Sajeek turns to Ksenya.
"Ksenya, I have a favor to ask of you before you depart from our company for a while. Well, more a question I guess," the vah shir tugs on his right ear and looks around them. "Do you know the Shissar tongue? And can you help learn it." Sajeek asks speaking a bit quieter. "I already know the basics of the language, but that is all."
Gramorn finds his pick of bows in all shapes and sizes. Kelethin bowyers are reputed all over Norrath and beyond to Luclin, which archers traveling far and wide to commission a weapon from these master craftsmen.
Ksenya starts to answer for a moment, and then stops at the revelation that Sajeek knows a smattering of the tongue. "I know not the language, for it has been dead on Antonica for long past the oldest elves' reckoning. I would be happy to help you polish up on your lizardman, and would love to learn what you know of that tongue as well."
Revery memorizes faces with his eidetic memory, fixing every detail into his mind so he will never lose them again.
Kwen is hugged into oblivion by Justis. The girl still having a massive crush on him.
--
Oxen-drawn carts, 7 of them in total, packed with as many supplies as possible lumber away from the city of Kelethin, bound for Felwithe. Nenger Frostleaf has hired 4 wood elven archers and one druid as guards, and the rest of the compliment is made up of merchants looking to ply their trades and sell their wares in the sister elven city.
It is more than a tenday into your journey when the ambush strikes, and while none of you caught unawares by it (no surprise round for either side) you are stunned by the intensity. A wave of monsters spill out of the forest on both sides, leaving the group to protect the wagons on their side, and the guards and Ksenya to protect the other side. Merchants lift weapons with the skill akin to just finding a sword lying in the gutter and lucking into holding it by hilt.
It is your first glimpse at the infamous and widely known Crushbone Orcs.
Crushbone orcs are particularly ruthless, employing torture and slavery as ways to subjugate their enemies and expand their society. They have few craftsmen of their own, depending on captured booty and on skilled elven and dwarven slaves to provide the materials and weapons they need. Young crushbone orcs, called pawns, have no place in their clan until they have killed at least one foe. Once they prove themselves in this way, they continue to gain power and rank only through combat, eventually earning the rank of centurion or legionnaire. There is no law other than that of personal power within the crushbone clan, and their leader, Emperor Crush, holds his position with an iron fist.
Crushbone ores are typical in size and strength, though their mightiest warriors can be as tall as 7 feet. Their dark charcoal- colored skin and their ultravision make them excellent nocturnal
raiders.
You had been camped when the attack had been launched at he darkest part of the night, but their advantage was spoiled by the quick-thinking merchants when throw flaming brands out to create a ring of illumination much farther than the campfires.
Orcs spill out and fill the night with their battle cries. The sheer number of them makes you question how many, if any, of you will see the morning's light. Kwen and Gramorn pale for they see much more of the truth of the attackers due to their superior night vision: orcs, astride giant wasps, can be seen flitting about. Breaking ranks is a bad idea, for each of you, including Revery, holds a position that blocks the movements of the orcs towards the merchants. Here is your first chance of getting a real military feel.
4 orcs move into melee range with each of you.
Initiative
- Pravus Mortis
- Orcs
Revery jumps into action, but does not consider going for his dagger. A number of orcs threaten him directly, so he must deal with those first - he's no use to anyone dead, or as back fighting the gnolls, knocked silly.
He first creates a layer of protective vapour around himself (quickened Mist), and follows it up with a Mesmerization spell, his only spell (save Color Flux) that can affect multiple creatures. He centers it so that it affects those in front of him and as many other orcs as possible, in a 20 foot radius.
Mist Quickened , free action, no AOO (20 Mana)
Provides DR 4 for 100 min.
Mesmerization (14 Mana)
cast defensively (DC 20): Channelling:
Save: Will, DC 24
Duration 4 rounds
Effects:
Mesmerization round 1 of 4 on orcs
Mist on me.
(HP: 70/70, Mana: 168, AC 12, DR 4)
Savage Crushbone Orcs leave lines of spittle behind as they raise their weaponry as they recklessly rush in to leave those of the caravan screaming in warm pools of their life's blood in the middle of the pathway.
At least that was their plan until Revery stood face-to-face with the charging throng and with an arcane expression and wave of his hand caused 19 orcs to simply stand in place looking bewildered, but not as stunned as the sole orc that resisted the spell.
It is really disconcerting to see the power that the enchanter wields.
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (critical success)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Will Save (Crushbone Orc vs. DC 24 mesmerization): (fail)
Merchants, craftsmen, orcs and guards alike agree to hold fast for a moment so all can see what transpired on the other side of the wagon. Mouths hang agog to see the statues of once vibrant orcs.
More orcs are come in behind the mesmerized orcs until a yell has them stop, turn about and run back into the woods of the Greater Faydark, permitting those orcs that remain behind to be dispatched with ease.
(end of combat)
Before Kwen could even draw his bow, or poison any of the arrows, Revery managed to stem the tide of the orc line coming in at the party. Looking at Revery Kwen says " Nicely done." and resolves to keep his eyes out for more trouble, saying " I'm sure that more will start showing up sooner or later on our trip, I don't think that they will be so smart as to come at us again with the same tactic."
Sajeek stood stock still, almost as stunned as the Crushbone Orcs. He had jumped off the wagon he had been resting in. His green booted feet had hit the ground. A roar had died in his throat, turning to more cough as he looked around. He lowers his ulak and dirk as he looks around. The vah shir simply shakes his head.
Looking over at Rev, a wide smile splits his muzzle. Before he could take a step, guards, mechants, and anyone who had lost a loved to orc raids, took action. The orcs came out of a dazed state and entered into the final sleep, shuffled off the mortal coil. His emerald eyes watch for a few moments as throats are opened.
Walking over to the enchanter, Sajeek claps his shoulder.
"Your magics have grown considerably in the years I have know you Rev. That was both frightening and damn impressive," the vah shir grins. "I'm glad your on my side." He adds with a chuckle. The vah shir's eyes glance back out, looking at the edges of the forest.
Hearing Kwen's words, Sajeek looks over at the half-elf and nods in agreement.
"Yea, I doubt that is the last we have seen of the orcs. Tis a good thing we are used to things after our blood," the vah shir says with a crooked grin. As he looks around, he happens to catch sight of Ksenya.
It had been a bit of surprise to Sajeek to find out that Shissar had been a near dead language on Norrath. Not that it was common or anything of Luclin, but it still in existence. And the look that the old man had given was a bit unnerving. The old mage had seemed generally surprised that Sajeek knew as much as he did of the Shissar tongue. The vah shir had pretty much told Ksenya the little he knew. He also traced the shissar writing that had been carved into his ulak for the old man. Given how Ksenya was helping to remove the near drunken slur from his mastery of Iskar, it was the least that he could do for Ksenya.
Sajeek moves about, making sure that nobody had been injured too horribly. He wasn't really sure that the orcs had time to do much damage, thankfully. The time that they had spent getting Justis all set up had served Revery well. He seemed to have all sorts of new tricks hidden up the sleeves of his robes.
And the vah shir was pretty sure that they were going to all of them.
So many eyes are on Revery that the enchanter needs to say something, or at least take a bow or something.
No matter what happens the enchanter knows he has a bright future as a tavern bouncer with such skills.
The spell was much more successful than Revery had expected. He figured the orcs would not be particularly resistant to that magic, and they were bunched up wonderfully, but still. His surprise is evident on his face.
He looks around, and laughs. "Heh, I think I scared them off. Lucky for them - I'm sure Ksenya was about to blast them into oblivion."
Despite his success, Revery realized right at the point of the attack that he had choosen his spells poorly. Tonight he would review them and select a better set. Of course, Mesmerization would be among those chosen.
The rest of the trip is eventful, seemingly with ever one of your steps harried by the creatures of the forest. Battle is constant, and the winter only gets more bitter, and the snow deeper, with the passing of days. You spend your time pulling, pushing, and digging out the wagons, ensuring that you are exhausted by the end of the gruelling slog across the Greater Faydark.
Felwithe sits upon the northeastern edge of Faydwer on the periphery of the Greater Faydark forest, built upon a great bluff overlooking the sea. As one might expect, Felwithe is a study of crystal-clear water and stark white marble. Its traditional elven architecture gives a museum quality to the city, with marble pillars, life-like statues, and graceful arches engraved with historical and mythological characters. Ivy twists its way onto nearly every building’s outer surface, creeping along walls and pillars. Small streams burble along here and there throughout the city, creating clear, clean pools throughout.
The great elven city has only one entrance, a fact that is considered an asset by the Koada’Dal, for Felwithe has many enemies. Those of questionable intent know better than to flirt with the heavily guarded entrance, for enemies of the city or of the Koada’Dal are dealt with quickly and capably. The entrance to Felwithe is marked by two pillars and an etched archway. There are always 2 veteran Defenders of Felwithe in front of each pillar, keeping an ever watchful eye toward the entrance. A handful of guards also walk a small patrol up to about a hundred yards outside the entrance, inside the entry tunnel. Even those who somehow use stealth to make it past this first team of patrolling Koada’Dal would likely have to be invisible and quiet as mice to slip by the Defenders at the archway.
Felwithe is a city enclosed by natural and manufactured barriers. The sole entrance is built into the side of the hill, burrowing upwards until it comes out into an open area set high upon the cliffs. A great wall stands to the east, near the edge of the cliffs, in order to protect less agile folk from tumbling off the side. A stone walkway is built on both sides of the wall so that those who wish to view the beauty of the ocean may do so in safety.
The wall itself is built of Kaladim masonry (quarried and sold to the elves long ago by the dwarves). The elven Arcanists fortified the wall by casting magics upon it, and then turned the bricks white and grey, so that the wall appears to be of marble. The walkway is cobbled, with room enough for three elves to walk abreast without fear of one falling off. Torches are lit along its length at night. From sea, the city of Felwithe appears as a shimmering line of tiny flame-specks in the distance. Sailors from all over Norrath use these lights to help them navigate through the waters around Faydwer.
The buildings within Felwithe are, for the most part, created from the stone and rock of the mountain upon which it is built. Long ago, dwarves were hired to help in the fledgling city’s construction, and the elves learned greatly from that experience, so that they were soon able to create their city in as grand and as glorious a style as they saw fit. The intermingling of dwarven workmanship with elven artistry in this case proved highly successful.
Once the elves had established basic city limits, they utilized the giant, natural pool of fresh water in the south- eastern portion of the city and began building canals in order to direct the water where they desired. The first canal simply looped around a portion of the southeastern corner of the city. The second was created further west, to where shopkeepers had begun extending their businesses closer to the water. Over time, small boats were created in order to travel from the southernmost portion of the city to the north.
In the centre of the city lies a huge grassy area called the Garden of the Mother. The elves maintain this area of grass religiously to this day, and it provides a place for gatherings and recreation of all kinds. Just to the north of this garden sits a huge orchard wherein fruits and nuts of all variety are grown. Any citizen of Felwithe is allowed to partake of the bounty of these trees. However, the king’s staff employs an agricultural official to monitor the borders of this orchard, keeping an eye on the comings and goings of all and taking note of who takes more than the rest.
Resting on the back of a wagon, leaning against Bast, Sajeek looks at Felwithe as the mules pull the carts slowly closer. It had been a tiring month of travel to get to the Koada'Dal city. Winter alone had presented enough challenges for the caravans. The orcs and other denizens of the old forests. The vah shir looks over at the other wagons, and the elf's that ran the caravan. He couldn't help but respect the life that they lead. It was just as dangerous as the life of an adventure, minus the ability to run away.
Also, given the amount of creatures that had attacked them on the journey, the Beastlord was glad they had traveled in a large group. While it might have been a little slower, and probably attracted the orcs, it had been safer. Not to mention there were more people to chat with. When he wasn't working with Ksenya to perfect his iskar.
Looking back at Felwithe, Sajeek scratches his chin, sending a fine mist of snow from his fur as he moves. Looking over at his friends, Sajeek grins.
"Well, first up, when we get into the city, time for a visit to an inn. I think it's about a for a few drinks, and a meal or two," Sajeek says. "And probably a nice hot bath." He adds with a laugh.
"As far as finding Alric Farsight, we should check the mage's bar. Err, library, or guild, I mean," He says with a grin.
"Sure sounds good, I guess. I all for getting out of these clothes and into something cleaner for a change, that and I think we are over do for a real hot meal and a drink." Kwen says, reflecting on the month of travel that the group had just gotten done with.
The constant amount of work that the group had to do wasn't too bad, and Kwen had spent a large amount of time scouting when he was able to, falling into the role was almost natural for the half-elf. Still helping to clear the wagons and had been different from what Kwen liked to do; but the rogue knew that this was the best way to do things.
" Once we get settled I'll put a few feelers out for the man, perhaps we shall have some luck, at least getting word that we are looking for him. I'm sure I can find a few connections here. I need more supplies that are hard to get; that are also on the rarer side, and some new recipes for some new grenades." Kwen says with a smile.
Revery likes the idea of a bath, drinks and a good meal. "Perhaps the baths should come first. Otherwise we might run the risk of being summarily sent home. I think I still have some bug berry on my lower back, from a month ago..."
After a bath, and over dinner, he brings up the topic of what they are going to do here. "I suppose we offer service of our skills in the war effort, and see what they say. But I agree, a visit to AF might be beneficial. Perhaps while Ksenya is at the library or something?"
Nenger Frostleaf bids you adieu, sad to see your go, but you are always welcome to travel with him. Though an elderly elf he will likely still outlive all of the group. You have made wonderful inroads with his brave guards, especially the druid, and the merchants as well. All seem interested in the burgeoning city of Justis and promise to come visit.
As with the dwarves the warder is an unwelcome addition to the city. Bast must remain out in the wilds. Once it becomes clear that you are to join the war effort they explain that the giant kejek tiger may enter at your side only when it is time for you to depart.
The druid that traveled with the party, having taken an instant liking to the wild animal, agrees to stay with Bast until you return.
After arriving at Felwithe Ksenya simply walks off without a goodbye in the company of highly-trained and heavily armoured shock troops. The strange old man, eternally occupying a pleasant locale within his own head, had joined without asking and departed the same way. Your paths will cross again, that you can be sure.
The swift departure has a benefit for it shows your the likely direction to those in charge of the war effort.
Much time had been given to perfect the language of the iksar, and Ksenya grasps the rudimentary bits of the Shissar language with an ease that makes everyone else jealous. By the second week even a number of the wood elves were grasping the basics of the forked Lizardman tongue.
Town criers use their well-trained voices to direct those that have come for the war effort to report to the Hall of Defenders, which is north of your position and in the same direction that Ksenya just left in.
Heavily-bundled up High elves, moving quickly to escape the horrible bite in the air, take your measure with aristocratically-impassive eyes so reminiscent of Quinaweniel and Alric, then discard you as one would a crushed gnat. These peoples stand in stark contrast to their friendly cousins so sharply that it is hard to remind yourself that they are closely-related.
Those without resistance to the cold and without cold weather gear have suffered greatly during their recent travels as the temperature is far beyond freezing.
You find refuge in The Traveler's Home. It is one of Felwithe's finest and most popular taverns. Innkeeper Freegraze welcomes foreign friends and Koada'Dal alike as long as their coinpurses bulge with wealth. Baths are arranged for a nominal fee.
You get time to bathe, sup, drink and sleep.
Kwen's feelers bear fruit as Xiblin, the gnome magician the group had met on the island so many years ago, arrives in the company of a squad of Koada'Dal with weapons drawn. He yells, "TAKE THEM!"
They rush in to arrest Revery and Sajeek.
You might be able to take the squad, though that you are not sure about, but you know how powerful the gnome is, and you are in the bosom of a city full of warriors.
Coming very close to telling the guard to piss off, the vah shir felt a feather light touch on his shoulder. Turning around to see the druid, it was a problem solved with a few words and a smile. Sajeek knew that Bast would be in good hand with the elf. And the big cat liked the druid, so that was always a plus.
When they had entered, bidding the elder Frostleaf goodbye, Sajeek turned to see Ksenya. The old mage had simple walked off, in the company of a group of shock troops no less. Finding himself sorry to see the old man leave, Sajeek waves before the old man is out of sight. He hopes that he will see Ksenya once more.
Tempered from his time in Gwen's homelands, the bitter winter had little bite. The vah shir's fur handle most of the chill, and his black and white Dervish robes took care of the rest. While the city was beautiful to look at, it did seem to share much of the Koada'Dal temperament. Nice, a feast for the eyes even, but cold and untouchable. When they found the inn, Sajeek was glad to be off the streets. While he missed the company of Bast, the vah shir didn't much care for the looks that he and the others were getting. A hot bath , an excellent meal, and some fine wine did a great deal in improving the vah shir's own attitude.
Sajeek twitched at rush of Koada'Dal squad of warriors. It took a great deal of effort on his part to not attack. He was suddenly very glad that the druid was taken care of Bast. Carefully, he raises his arms above his head. Still sitting at the table, he wasn't about to try anything crazy. While he was pretty certain that they could take the elves, Sajeek wasn't so sure about the gnome. Or his elementals.
"Uh, hi. Um, been a little while Xiblin," Sajeek nods at the gnome. "With this greeting, you would think I slept with someone important's daughter." Sajeek blinks and looks around. "I just got into to town, you'll have to give me at least a day for that to happen," Sajeek says with a lopsided grin.
"Take us where?" Revery stands, shocked that he and Sajeek would be arrested.
He had had his clothing washed and pressed, his hat cleaned, and he'd truly enjoyed the elven meals he had partaken of. He even enjoyed the people, as long as he didn't venture out into the street.
He had reviewed his spells this morning, and had considered casting Bind Affinity to this place, just in case. But there was no reason to hurry, or so he thought, and had not done it. Now he regretted it.
"I assure you my friend has not slept with anyone's daughter in this city. So far."
" Um Hello perhaps we can discuss this without the need for too much of a scene and enlighten those of us who have no idea what is going on good sir." Kwen says with an easy going smile, projecting air of civility and culture to say the least.
Diplomacy
Conversation is not on the itinerary as the entire unshackled group is guided through the snow-caked streets at a clip that leaves even the gnome Xiblin struggling to catch up with his short legs.
Somber faces greet you, and it does not take long before it becomes apparent that this city is being run by either the aged or young Koada'Dal. Those high elves in their fighting prime are few and far between. There is a noble bearing to the guards that convey you, though you imagine that their best years are long behind them.
Reverently moving through an impressive orchard you come to a building where headgear is removed by all. The Temple of the Mother is an edifice of cold marble and clean lines, starkly devoted to the solemn worship of Tunare. The brass doors parted and you are instantly overwhelmed by the agonized screams, the taste of despair, the stench of blood, vomit, urine and excrement. Wounded are tended as best as the overwrought healers can, but there is death in the air and some wounds would be beyond them at the best of times.
The war with the iksar is not going well.
There is no chance to lend assistance for your are prodded to continue until several doors are behind you, as are your guards leaving you in a meditation chamber with all of your gear. The door slams shut and the resounding sound of the bolt snapping into position assails your ears.
Alric Farsight, half of his face scarred where the giant skeleton tore into him, enters with an entourage of other elderly elves in his wake. Each is obviously exhausted and the blood spatters that stains their robes suggest battle. The door is shut and both sides take a moment to take the measure of the others.
Alric's eyes linger on Revery and Sajeek as he finally says with his typical gruffness, "We hold the outpost, but a traitor in our midst makes our defeat inevitable. All we have gained is to be lost, as is any chance of Firionia's rescue. There is word that each of you speak the tongue of the lizard. Is this true? I call in a debt incurred many years ago." Unconsciously he rubs his fingers along his ravaged face.
"It is true, Master Farsight. It's good to see you alive, after... Anyways, yes, we had a friend in a human city who was Iksar, and who taught us his people's language. So Sajeek, Kwen and I speak it passably, and even our new friend Gramorn knows some phrases. And I believe I speak for all of us when I say we're willing to help. It would be a tragedy to see the rescue fail. With some study I may be able to change form into an Iksar, too. Oh, and I speak the Elven tongue as well, as does Kwen of course."
Revery didn't give much detail about Fropze, for his own safety.
"Of course," Sajeek says with a nod. He had noted the old and the young were the only ones left in the city. "We owe you for our lives at the very least. You need us to root out this traitor, yes?" the vah shir asks. He thinks for a few seconds.
"How did whole war start anyway," Sajeek asks.
You understand why you were brought here in such a unfriendly manner. There are traitors about. Trust would be difficult to extend to strangers who arrive speaking the language of the Koada'Dal's mortal enemy. Such treatment had likely saved your lives.
Xiblin, having entered last, leaves the door open a few seconds too long, revealing to the party that Bast and the druid are being lead to join the party as well.
Alric repeats the words that had been uttered nearly two years prior, just moments before Sajeek had trained two 25' tall skeletons into the party forcing Xiblin to gate away and the Felwithian royalty to abandon his spell and attempt a partially-successful evacuation.
“Fironia Vie, my niece, was taken almost 3 years ago. It is now open warn between the Iksar and the Koada’Dal. We have information that she still draws breath, and know her approximate location, but all efforts to free her from the foul lizard's clutches have failed. Through you we might expunge the iksar race from the surface of Norrath, and rescue their valuable hostage. Many lives will be lost in the diversion, but she must be freed.”
You position is difficult here. The iksar are disliked by all other races, but exterminating them is a very different story. Rescuing a hostage is a different matter altogether, having no obvious ethical difficulties. Hopefully after the princess is returned the battle will simply be over.
Revery asks, "What is your plan?"
Sajeek frowns as he thinks. From what he knew about iskar, which admittedly was not overly much, keeping someone hostage didn't seem quite right. Food or a slave, sure. On that thought, the fact that the Iskar and Koada'Dal going to war seemed odd.
"What was Fironia doing on Kurnak in the first place?" Sajeek asks, tugging on his right ear. "It doesn't strike me as a place one would set up a summer home." His frown deepens. "I thought that the Iskar could care less about others unless they stepped foot on their homeland. Could be, it's possible that this war was manufactured by someone else." The vah shir pauses and looks at Alric.
"Both the Koada'Dal and the Iskar have enemies. If your people and the reptiles start warring with each other, both are weakened," Sajeek pauses, looking around at the gathered. "I know that the Shissar where not destroyed, but relocated to Luclin, where they are still very much alive within the Grey. And over the last few years, we have come to believe that they are planning to return to Norrath. To burn, destroy, and enslave whatever might be left over." The look in the vah shir's emerald gaze was calm, not crazed.
"Besides, I would rather not throw away the lives of young men and woman, if it can be avoided." Sajeek tugs on his right ear. "Would a series of hit and run strikes draw the Iskar out of wherever you believe Vie to be prisoner, rather then a siege like attack? Because, if there is a druid circle near it, we could sneak in that way." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Being able to speak and read Iskar, we have an advantage over previous teams sent in."
The vah shir blinks, looking back at the older elf. The vah shir wan't sure when he realized it, but he noticed that Alric was obsessed with rescuing his niece. Not that there was a thing in the world wrong with that. But, Sajeek was getting the impression that the noble elf would sacrifice every single Koada'Dal to save Fironia. Which, most distubingly, reminded Sajeek of another obsessed man. Swenj. He files that thought away for a later discussion with the others.
"I'm guessing that your tacticians have already gone over a myriad of solutions," Sajeek with a nod. "Just offering a fresh set of eyes on the problem." He adds with a faint grin upon his muzzle.
" Hit and run tactics work well along with poisons in the arrows and grenades, making sure that if there are any other hostages, there are a number of poisons that will only slow, or make others feel like they are experiencing pure bliss. Of course as was already pointed out, I'm sure that many others have thought the same thing. Drawing them out with a hit and run style while we sneak in, does hold some merit." Kwen says
Pondering how a prisoner would survive for a number of years in the Iksar lands, brings a shudder to the half-elf's spine. Still Sajeek had brought up a good point, what was the woman doing that required her to go there in the first place.
It is one of the other robed elder high elves that speaks after getting leave from the only noble you present that you have identified, "At one time, Firiona Vie was the site of a picturesque city. An allegiance of Faydwer inhabitants, including the Emerald Warriors and Storm Guard, established themselves there, setting up vendor shops, a guild hall, and provided a safe haven for those adventuring in to the volatile lands of Kunark. Long ago it was overrun, the majority of its inhabitants slain. Since then a foothold has been regained, lead by brave warriors that included Firiona Vie, whom the outpost was named after as a rallying cry once she was taken. Delegates of other nations, and even troops from other nations have come to buoy up our numbers, but their loses have been too grave and their supports waivers."
Clearing his throat a few times he continues, "Diplomacy has failed, as have attempts to purchase the princess' release, or even to determine if she is still alive. War has raged since then with horrific casualties to both sides. Kunark is a wild continent and many of our loses have come from the dangerous and unknown monsters that roam wi..."
Alric interrupts, the speaker backing up and lowering his gaze, "We wizards are tasked with the disposition of troops. You will be conveyed to Antonica and board a ship to Kunark. Once there you will be conveyed to the most senior ranking officer and explain your linguistic capabilities."
The tactics are offered, and though the high elves are polite they look at Sajeek like he's nuts suggesting that the extinct Shissar are behind the war, and the Koada'Dal agree to speak to the tacticians about them.
All are dismissed save Sajeek, Kwen and Revery. Alric's shoulders drop and you are forced to hold him up, else he would fall unconscious at your feet. Pride ruled this elf once, but now there is only a fatigue beyond words. You lead him to a seat where it takes him long minutes before he can continue. Drawing out a sack from an inner pocket of his robes he gingerly opens it to reveal a number of phials wrapped with extreme care.
"Teir'dal, from the foul outpost called The Overthere, have disguised themselves among the ranks of those that occupy Firiona Vie, and while their numbers are few their effect has been devastating. They are not in league with the iksar, for they hate the lizardman as much as we, but they cannot pass up the opportunity to foster discord within their mortal enemies." He mutters something about how stealing and befouling their royalty was apparently not enough for the dark elves.
"We are losing this war leaving the future of the Koada'Dal in jeopardy. I had prepared this very bag for our best and brightest, but the Teir'dal have stolen them from us. I must trust those whom you trust as desperation is all I have left." Such talk is so foreign to your understanding of this elf that it takes a moment to hear his next words.
"Within is a teleportation stone that can evacuate you out of Cabilis with the princess." The prismatic dancing colours within the stone attract your attention, but once you tear your eyes away you learn more of it. Though it is no larger than a marble, but it has a weight to it far beyond what you would expect.
Alric adds that the group can also recover the body that way should she have fallen, then shakes away the thought and holds up teleportation stone and explains how it works, one need only speak the words, "Exoda nin levantis", while tightly holding the hands of all that you wish to depart with. The range is not long, so the group must be ready to pick their way through the wilds of Kunark protecting her to the best of their ability.
"Each of these phials contains our most powerful extracts that will not just coat you in an illusion of looking as an iksar, but alter your form to be one. This is the first of the potions I was able to brew from the blood of the traitor. " Alric explains that the potion has not been used in the war to this point for it has only just been completed. The effects should last a tenday for each of you. He does not speak the words, but you can work it out for yourself that you do not wish to enter the goodly outpost as an iksar.
Alric pulls out the last potion and this one is tiny, no larger than a thumbnail, "Within is the scent of a baby dragon mixed with iksar blood. It will attract the dragons to Cabilis and they will level it. You must burn it inside the city core." The old wizard was speaking of exterminating a peoples and looking at Kwen the entire time, revealing why the rogue had been allowed to remain behind. . Whether you planned to or not this was not the time to argue.
His next words are shocking.
"Once you get to Antonica you must not board the ships, lest you be assassinated like so many other have. Find a powerful non-elven wizard and beg him to teleport you directly to Kunark and make your way into the city alone. Speak not of this to anyone, especially the other wizards you entered with for I know not who to trust. Keep up the ruse that you are going to board a ship."
Alric removes his ring and hands to over, along with the sack and a crude map of the continent of Kunark (player's guide page 18). The ring is one of the crown jewels, you are to trade it for the teleportation.
Glancing at Alric you realize he has probably not slept properly since you saw him last, "Questions? We have only a few moments."
Looking at the bag, potion vials, Sajeek paused at the sight of the smallest potion. His eyes linger on the vial. Sajeek couldn't fathom killing an entire race. His thoughts went to Fropze, whom, he had last making clothes. The iskar had looked happy, as much as the reptile could express. While he knew that everyone's emotions were running hot due to the war. But, exterminating them all? Sajeek didn't know if he could do something like that.
A glance at the bloody looking tiger stripes that cut through his soft grey fur like bloody tears gave him pause as well. He was certain that Cazic-Thule would have something to say about that as well. One eternity on the Plane of Fear was quite enough.
Sajeek hands the bag of potions to Rev, and then he glances over the map. Curling his clawed hand, he looks at the ring in his palm, his emerald eyes growing wide. Sajeek looks back at Alric and nods.
"We will bring back your niece," the vah shir reaches out and squeezes the elder elf's shoulder reassuringly. "And you can trust Ksenya, the old mage who traveled with us here. He is here to help as well." Sajeek tells the elf with a nod. He pauses. "Ksenya can be a little addled at times, so don't worry too much if he forgets his clothes."
"I think we are ready," the vah shir looks back at the others and nods. He had a plan that no traitor could expect of them. Sajeek remembered the Firepot room very well. They just had to get to Freeport and speak to the archmage Calitri. Sajeek honestly would be overly comfortable about Alric walking about the Firepot room. Especially with his desire to wipe out the Iskar so strong. After them, who else could be next?
"Oh, I'm going to open the door to get Bast, if you don't mind," Sajeek says with a half grin.
Alric waits for Kwen and Revery's questions then opens the door, reuniting the party momentarily and directing them to gather around one of the two elderly magi. With a kind, though obviously exhausted voice he asks the party to hold hands as he casts the spell that will take them all to the continent of Antonica.
If only they knew how little you would want to step foot in Freeport again their plans might be different.
As soon as you land a second spell drags you to the Freeport docks. The kindly old Koad'Dal points to a ship and embraces you with a weary smile.
Eyes turn to take in your sudden appearance, and you know that attention is a really bad thing for you here.
The wizard urges you tot he ship with his eyes.
Kwen hadn't bothered asking questions, like many things in his life, he had always had questions that needed to be answered. This time, given all the information that he was privileged to hear, he merely shrugs and accepts that he didn't have a solution or even all of the information.
The rogue, really wished that they didn't have the option of wiping out a whole race of beings, it rackled the half-elf, knowing that most of a race of creatures, while not a goodly race, would be cleansed.
Perhaps some will get out of the city alive, Kwen thinks to himself, then decides that if there is a chance to save some children, Kwen would at least try. Unless that is what the traitor wanted; the half-elf had a feeling that this wouldn't be one of his proudest moments, hell it would probably be another brick that would be placed onto his path back into hell... or worse Cazic-Thule's disturbing grasp.
With a shudder, Kwen shelves these thoughts and focuses in on the moment, bringing his hands to hold the others he waits for the spell to wash over him. Smelling familiar air, of the sea, Kwen looks at the docks of Freeport.
Bringing his hood up to his head, to help disguise who the half-elf might be, he waits for Sajeek to lead the group to the ship, wondering what the Val'Shir had in mind.
Revery has no further questions for Alric. This is happening very fast, and they would be in Kunark, hopefully near Cabilis, in a short time.
He feels for the old elf. He has been humbled by this experience, and his fatigue is getting to him. He must really love his niece.
Revery wonders why the elves didn't first threaten the iksar with what they could bring down upon them. But then, the iksar would likely not have believed it. Perhaps they would require a demonstration before they believed it. He wonders if they will really do it. Just because the old man says it, the deed is not done, and need not be. Then again, having dragons wipe out the iksar does not sound so bad. But how would that affect their quest? For after bringing Firiona Vie to.... Firiona Vie, they would have to strike back out into Kunark to find that dead iksar monk's bones. If the dragons are raining fire down at that time, it might make it more difficult, but only if they have to look in Cabilis, he realizes.
All these thoughts sprint through Revery's large brain, and he finds himself a moment later in Freeport, at the docks. "Let's see when the ship is leaving," says Revery, hoping the elven wizard will just go away now. "I hope we have time for a good meal - my last one was rudely interrupted."
"Agreed," Sajeek turns his head slightly to the elderly elf that had teleported them. Somehow, seeing an old elf was a strange experience. At this point, the wizard had lived 2 or 3 hundred years. It was simply amazing. Especially considering Pravus Mortis expected lifespan was dropping daily.
"We are good at this point. Even if the ship sails, we can catch up to it before it gets to far," Sajeek nods confidently to the elf. "Please take care of our old friend." The vah shir pauses, looking at the mage critically. "Go home and try to rest yourself. Your people need you."
With a quick tug, Sajeek pulls a strips of black linen from his Dervish robe. With a few quick motions, he begins to wrap up his features. Pulling off the coils of his multi-colored scarf, he ties one end loosely around Bast's neck. The tiger looks at him with his mismatched green and gold eyes. His expression was clearly one of, "What in the hell are you doing."
Done with the "leash," Sajeek stands back up. Head wrapped, and topped with turban, the vah shir seemed a bit more menacing. He has to wait for the elven mage to leave before he can fill the others in on his plan.
The ruse is accepted as the wizard casts a spell and disappears without a word.
(please add a DC 20 spellcraft check in your next post)
(please include a DC 24 listen check and DC 15 spot check in your next post)
Luckily for the party the howling winds keeps wrapped heads down, and no one loiters in the bitter chill. Frost-rimmed ships, with the thickest and most reinforced hulls, dance in the harbour. You doubt there will be many trips left in the season.
Nodding to the spot the wizard had been, Sajeek turns to the others. His mind playing over the gestures and faint words that summoned up the magic, more out of habit then anything. The vah shir had been doing his best to expand his knowledge of magic in general.
Looking at the druid that had ended up tagging along with them, Sajeek nods, then grins.
"Huge favor, would you mind checking with the captain to see when the ship is taking off?" The vah shir asks with a smile. Which is pretty much only visible by the look in his emerald eyes.
"Okay, so my plan is for us to go the the archmage once more," Sajeek near whispers in iskar. He had leaned in close to the others so that he didn't have to speak over the howling winds. "And have him zap us back to fire room."
Gramorn had serious reservations about the entire mission, especially when the poison had been revealed. He moves off to the ship in a manner that suggested he was joining the war effort, rather than joining you on your mission. There is no talking the halfling out of his chosen course, he will either change his mind on his own, or he will not. Your path parts here, and the ruse you are carrying out steals any chance of a real goodbye.
Fenris (pronounced with the s silent), the young wood elven druid you had traveled with lo these last weeks, cocks his head to the side as he easily discerns the nature of the spell. He whispers to the others, "Invisibility, not teleportation", trusting the winds howl to obliterate the truth of his words.
Spellcraft (Fenris vs. DC 20):
With the warning you each have a better chance (+2 circumstance bonus to spot and listen) to hear the crunch of snow under foot, or see the depressions in the fresh snow.
And then Fenris whispers that it was a spell of invisiblity, not telelportation. And why Bast was staring at the at the ground so intently. Almost looking ready to pounce, like he was hunting something under the snow.
"Oh, I guess Gramorn is taking care of that, never mind Fenris," he nods to the druid. "Hmm, it looks as though Bast has spotted something in the snow. I bet he is getting ready to pounce. It is pretty funny when he attacks snowflakes."
Spellcraft:
Listen: (includes +2 bonus)
Spot: (includes +2 bonus)
Revery notices the deception, and turns to the space where Bast is looking. "Sir, do you take us for fools? Even the tiger could tell you did not Gate anywhere. If you have been tasked with ensuring we are to board the ship, as if we were going to betray you all or something, you should have just told us!"
The wizard reappears with a flush touching his wizened features. Without a word he teleports away. You know that he has teleported back to Faydwer this time, and you are confident that he is too exhausted to meddle with you for the next few hours.
Other eyes might be on you, but you quickly get out of sight and blend into the crowd; well as well as a giant tiger can blend in.
listen check
Kwen cocks his eyebrow, not sure what the wizard had been trying to do, shaking his head when the wizard disappears again, this time apparently gone for the next few hours.
in Iskar whispering " Alright, so to see your archmage friend again, that is our plan? This works for me, we shall have to move quickly, I'm sure we are still wanted." Kwen says, starting to look around, making sure that the group isn't being watched at the moment. Knowing that sooner or later they might have to deal with trouble that is more then likely headed their way.
With a small sigh the rogue feels a pang of regret being in Freeport again, he had liked the city, but now with a place to call his own; Kwen can see the issues with Freeport more clearly then ever before.