Cevendyl knew he needed to eat before he went to study, but somehow, it seemed like another drink was more appropriate.
"I can bring anything you need, open access to the archives is not permitted without supervision -- the items kept here are one of a kind, you understand. " He cocked his head to the side, seeming to ignore your attempt to dismiss him to fetch Sulee. "Elf gate? What might that be?"
"Well, that is the problem. I have no idea what an Elf gate is. I am hoping to find information on it here. It is rumored to be in the Citadel though. So perhaps we should start with anything related to the Citadel that is written in Elven, then move on to --" He pauses for a moment again. "If you will excuse me, I need to go open your front door. I understand your reluctance to leave the archives unattended. I will be back shortly." Caiten hurriedly walks back through the rows of shelves, through the front room, and opens the door.
Sulee is standing on the front step of the building with her arms crossed and glares at Caiten as the doors open. "Well it is about time. If you are going to send me on errands, the least you could do is not barricade yourself inside a fortress in the 30 seconds that I am gone. What do you expect me to do, crawl through a crack in the wall like a rat?" She steps into the room, though. After a few seconds, she shakes her head a bit and uncrosses her arms. "Well, anyway, I am here now. So what are we doing?"
Caiten walks back into the archive shelving room with Sulee trailing along behind. "Now that we are both here, let's get started and see what we can find, yes?"
Jorell, as Yasami recalled the half orc's name to be, brought out large detailed, labelled blueprints of the ground floor and basement of the citadel. They clearly revealed a couple of secret doorways, including a tunnel right behind the citadel that led to the lower floor, an escape passage of sorts. You don't immediately see anything that screams "Elf gate", but you're also not entirely sure what you're looking for.
After about an hour of work fetching various type of records and reading through them, Caiten mentions to Yasami, "How are you doing? Have you found any information that you are looking for? We might also want to at least check in with some of the other members of our team and see what other plans are being made."
Yasamina studies the documents provided, and makes several notes on her own paper, including something resembling a hastily copied map. Interestingly enough, she is making two copies of her notes and maps. She is highlighting hidden halls and rooms as she does so.
She lifts her head from the papers when Caiten speaks. "Ummm... Not really. I mean, these floor plans are helpful, sure...", she taps the documents a few times. "I assume the goblins have most of it scouted out at this point, and would show us what they know. But at least we don't have to take them back now. I guess?
She shrugs, leans back, and wipes her eyes for a while as she speaks. "None of these tell us what was the Nail order doing here, however. And that's what I'm after."
She stretches her arms above her head, and looks at Caiten with a surprisingly serious face. "People saw hellkights in the woods. Well, at least one of them. That's why I'm concerned."
"Others know where we are, right? They would come get us if they would want to make a move?"
"I mentioned it to a couple of people in the Wizard's Grace when I left. Joran at least should know where we are."
"Hmm... According to the records and the proprietor's memory, the Hellknights left the Citadel and the area several years ago and have not paid it any mind since then. It is curious that they would return at the same time that people here are investigating the lower levels and the Elf gate is apparently being activated. It makes me suspicious that they have some manner of detection still in place there that has notified them of the activity."
"Yasami, may I ask details on the nature of the Hellknights? Other than the name, I know almost nothing about them and their order. People generally speak the name with a bit of fear. But at the same time, they were living within walking distance of this very city for years - so they couldn't be overly destructive, could they?"
"Joran at least should know where we are."
Sulee chuckles a bit and mentions quietly, but loud enough for Yasami to hear, "Only as long as he was paying attention to anything other than the owner of the Wizard's Grace."
He opens the door and finds Joran with a mouth full of breadroll.
"I'll have what he's having, but with less vehemence," he says to Trini.
Raising an eyebrow, the barbarian holds the end of the roll while biting it in half and smiles while shaking finger at her. As he chews, he catches sight of the druid walk up next to him out of the corner of his eye. When he finally downs his food, "Hey, Lisi. Where've you been?" he asks before taking a quick glance around the tavern. "Any idea where the others went? I swear, they never tell me anything. You'd think at least one of them would've informed me where they we're going or given a meet point or something! Ah well, anyway," he looks back to Trinil with a smile, "I'll have some of that excellent stew of yours, darlin'. The same for 'Nature Boy' here," he ribs him, giving a wink. "Also, he doesn't like... what did you call it?" he asks him, looking curious. "'Vehemence' was it? I gotta say, I've never heard of that kind of seasoning," he shrugs. He then turns his attention back to Trinil, "You might just wanna go ahead and leave that off, Trin," he says plainly.
"Here and there, mainly 'there', on Tuskhead Slope, with the goblins and pups, and um, you know. And I have no idea how such a loud, motley group could be hard to find in this little town. I think Caiten told me to go to Wizard's Grace, and then not to go." Lisi shrugs and sits down to join the barbarian and gives Trini a polite smile, then deflates as soon as the barkeep's back is turned.
"Feh. The 'you know'. Talking to your boss as usual. I don't know why I keep setting myself up for failure, Joran. I've had perhaps a score of dinners with her and...I don't know. Perhaps they weren't seasoned with enough vehemence."
He sighs, rubs his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it from invisible cobwebs. "You happy? Got to swing the war flail I've seen you with, keeping busy at the mill?"
"Here and there, mainly 'there', on Tuskhead Slope, with the goblins and pups, and um, you know. And I have no idea how such a loud, motley group could be hard to find in this little town. I think Caiten told me to go to Wizard's Grace, and then not to go." Lisi shrugs and sits down to join the barbarian and gives Trini a polite smile, then deflates as soon as the barkeep's back is turned.
"Feh. The 'you know'. Talking to your boss as usual. I don't know why I keep setting myself up for failure, Joran. I've had perhaps a score of dinners with her and...I don't know. Perhaps they weren't seasoned with enough vehemence."
He sighs, rubs his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it from invisible cobwebs. "You happy? Got to swing the war flail I've seen you with, keeping busy at the mill?"
Looking a little confused, yet, grinning, Joran keeps his voice low so as not to allow Trinil to hear and also to not embarrass the fellow. "What's the matter, my friend? Talk to me. Who is this lucky gal that we're talking about here? I just want to make sure we're on the same page, nothing more. What seems to be the problem you think? And if you don't mind, I'll love to talk to her myself to see if I can sway her a little more your way there, buddy," he gives him a nudge and a wink. "To be honest, I'd be willing to bet I could help you out a helluva lot better than...," he states matter of factly before pausing, his eyes nonchalantly shooting a quick glance over towards Trinil before returning to the conversation at hand. Running a hand down his face, "Okay, um, what was I saying? Oh right, about this gal of yours. Talk to me, buddy. It really helps to talk these things out. And I promise you this will stay between you and me," he tells him in all seriousness.
You would both know the basics -- that Hellknights are dogmatic, and each order has a different overriding focus. The Order of the Nail abhors savagery, and seeks to bring civilization to untamed places.
As you conduct your research, the walking encyclopedia that is Jorell proves to be incredibly helpful. "Ah, the Hellknights have a reputation to be sure, and not an unearned one, but they were not feared around these parts. Dealings between the Citadel and Breachill were quite amicable." He slid a journal towards himself, flipping to the desired page on nearly the first try. "The journal of the first Lictor, back when they founded the place. 'Verily did we expect the Breachtons, as they call themselves, to be of a coarse and unruly nature, so far removed from civilization. And yet we discovered a bastion against the wilds, a place of law and order and hospitality. It is here we shall build, for truly, this place is an example of what can be done when the heart of man suppresses its base instincts and follows a higher calling.'" he quoted with some pride.
He sets the book down and Yasami takes it and flips through. A word catches her eye and she leans forward, flipping back a few pages to where she'd seen it. 'In excavating for the foundation, we chanced upon some odd ruins. They are Elvish in make, and our resident expert in such things dates them to be several millennia old. There is but a single room, remarkably undamaged, with a chamber extending off of it that is badly deteriorated. We debated relocating the build site, but chose instead to place the room at the heart of the Citadel -- a true testament to how the works of civilization can endure the cruel test of time.'
"Than you Jorell. I have read some very basic information in other textbooks. Nothing nearly this detailed though. It still doesn't explain the emotional response that people have towards them. From just what is written, they sound like perfectly reasonable people. I just feel like I am failing to understand something. Perhaps if I meet one it would make more sense."
"It is getting late though. We have been at this for a while already. I am not sure that we will find much more information here on our very specific topics than what we already have. I am going to see if I can find some of our other allies, share the little bit of information that we have learned or at least verified, and hopefully form some plans to help us coordinate our efforts tomorrow. Would you like to accompany me on that, or are you staying here for a while more? I could use the help finding the others. I don't know where most of them are likely to be. I am hoping that there are still some at the Wizard's Grace."
"Jorell, thank you for your time and diligence here." Caiten takes his leave and walks back to the Wizard's Grace.
"Thank you Jorell. I have read some very basic information in other textbooks. Nothing nearly this detailed though. It still doesn't explain the emotional response that people have towards them. From just what is written, they sound like perfectly reasonable people. I just feel like I am failing to understand something. Perhaps if I meet one it would make more sense."
"Reasonable is not the best word for them, perhaps, as it is nigh impossible to reason them away from their beliefs," Jorell explained to Caiten. "So long as you abide by the rule of law and behave in what they deem a civilized manner, you've naught to fear. But they are unrelenting against what they view as savagery, and show nothing in the way of mercy for lawbreakers. There are few shades of gray, in their eyes. And, of course, their name stems from their holding of the order found in the hells in high regard." The half orc shrugged.
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Lisi smiles. Either he's being too obscure, or the barbarian isn't connecting the dots...it's best to assume the former, you pedantic nature boy. "It's your boss. Narine. Look, it's a small town, and there aren't that many lovely half-elven lasses who enjoy walking through the woods, although the fact that she looks at the trees with a bit more hunger for their potential for lumber than I do. Mind you, she loves the woods, not like those criminals I've heard about in Andoran who just level acres of trees."
He sighs and takes a bite of breadroll and a sip of drink.
"It started out as ah, talking business. I was trying to sell her on selective cutting, and leaving areas fallow for regrowth, and surveys and whatnot. And she's listened. But it's evolved into something more. And lately....ah..."
He taps the table impatiently, as if expecting flowers to sprout from it. Guba peers at the table as well, with glittering black eyes.
"I think it's evolving again...into a very nice, very comfortable...friendship."
"And I think it's my fault. Do you know why most druids stay out in the wild? Because the trappings of civilization makes everything feel stifled. The world is huge, and yet I should be content to watch and sit with the wild here in Crimson Tide Wood, and I feel...I feel like everything is small and difficult here. Your father was in the military, right? How in the blasted ashes did he not bristle constantly under the Cheliax Guard interfering with everything here?"
Lisi takes a gulp of brew and buries his hairless chin in one long slender hand.
"Joran, I'm babbling. I think I'm having a...one-ninth life crisis."
"Reasonable is not the best word for them, perhaps, as it is nigh impossible to reason them away from their beliefs," Jorell explained to Caiten. "So long as you abide by the rule of law and behave in what they deem a civilized manner, you've naught to fear. But they are unrelenting against what they view as savagery, and show nothing in the way of mercy for lawbreakers. There are few shades of gray, in their eyes. And, of course, their name stems from their holding of the order found in the hells in high regard." The half orc shrugged.
Caiten considers this for a moment or two. "Hell has order, that is true. But it is also very oppressive. So perhaps it is not so much what the Hellknights believe that is the problem, but that they zealously and oppressively enforce their beliefs and attitudes on other people that makes them so disliked."
"Mmm, this is good meat." Dario said inbetween mouthfuls of ale and beef, letting the woman decide whether he was serious or not. Raising his eyebrow a little as she makes it known that she has connections that the general trader doesn't, he'd give her a look for just a moment before nodding. "If the blade is good enough, certainly. I've got good coin for good goods." Dario lets a grin spread across his face as he offers out his hand to the woman, the wry smile fitting perfectly on his thin face. "The name is Dario Zuz."
Meanwhile, at the Grace, Trinil brings Lisi's plate of food in time to eavesdrop on the tail end of he and Joran's conversation. "Aw, you and Narine? You two would be adorable together. And not just because you both have pointy ears." she winked. "Your first problem is asking this guy for advice," she joked, nodding at Joran. "If you want mine, be clear about your interest. If you two spend all your time talking of trees, she may think it's the trees you're interested in."
Flames. Everywhere, flames. Trees, buildings, people, the air itself ablaze. There's no way out. Trapped. A large shape flies overhead, low but still obscured by smoke. It's massive, larger than anything should be.
Suddenly the flames are gone. There's a gateway, in a jungle, tropical plants draped across the stone. Silhouetted figures are enacting a ritual of some sort, tethers of raw arcane power joining them all as they stand in in a ring. As one, they lift their daggers, and in the dream, you feel yourself doing the same. As one, all of them plunged the daggers into their own hearts, and you begin to do the same...
Oren wakes with a start as the dream dagger stabbed home, and he clutches his chest reflexively as water sloshes out of the tub from the sudden movement. Nothing. No wound. But he can still feel the heat of the flames, and the cold steel of the blade. They were onto something here. He was right to come. This was where he was meant to be. But right at that moment, he really wished it wasn't.
Yasamina thumbs a few pages back, reads the section she is interested in, and closes the tome after making a few notes on both of her maps. "Thank you, Jorell. It's always a pleasure. You've been very helpful with your knowledge."
She puts the tome on the table, and stands up, ready to leave.
Once outside, she stops Caiten for a moment. "I should probably tell you why I am concerned about the hellknight presence.", she fiddles her thumbs. "See - we don't mesh very well, philosophically. They are quite... Well, authoritarian. No matter the cost. They tend to interrogate people when they don't like something. With quite the zeal. I don't approve of that. Breachill is a bastion of civilisation in these lands.", she continues speaking as they walk towards the Wizard's Grace. "But if something were to change... For example Breachill housing goblins - I think they might set their sights on the town. And that could be our fault. I would really hate to witness that. Maybe they have been villified for me during my studies. But most of the stuff I have learned turned out to be true. So far, at least. Just keep your eyes peeled, okay?"
She stores both of her maps in leather scrollcases, each one in a separate case, and stores one on her belt. She gives the other one to Caiten. "Just in case.", she states, and walks towards the Wizard's Grace.
Once they enter the inn, Yasamina looks around for the rest of the bunch. "So what have you rascals been up to?", she puts on her entertainer smile.
Caiten accept the map gratefully.
He considers Yasami's words about the Hellknights in silence for a bit. Finally saying, as they walk into the Wizard's Grace, "I still consider it to be a good thing to render aid to the Goblins. And the Warg puppies. The Goblins have decided to live in a peaceful and rather civilized manner. The puppies are still young. They have yet to make their decisions on the matter - but they should be allowed to do so. If they choose a path of uncontrolled violence, we will have to deal with that then. But I have hope that they can find a useful channel for their predatory tendencies that will allow them to be a productive asset to society."
Oren clutches the area where the knife went. It wasn't real and there's no wound, but that doesn't stop it from beating rapidly. "Coming here was stop the dreams." He mutters to himself. He shakily dries himself off and gets dressed.
The rest of his party sees an Oren that looks paler and generally less relaxed than a man that's coming out of bath area at a nice inn should. "The Elf Gate. We have to go back to the Citadel now."
"The Elf Gate. We have to go back to the Citadel now."
"Meaning immediately? It is getting a bit late in the day. If we leave now it will likely be dark once we arrive. I expect we will be there tomorrow morning, and better prepared than we are currently. But if you really need to get there now, I would accompany you."
"Trini, I'm at a bit of a crossroads. In true elven fashion, I have no idea what I should do next with Narine, or with Breachill proper. That's why I joined the Call this year."
He jerks a thumb back at the broad shouldered human and shrugs. "He's big. Easy to bounce things off of. Words, ideas, boulders..."
He perks up as the small retinue comes in.
"Drinkhail, Yasami. I'm looking to get in my cups and pouring out existential crises to Trini and this giant lump of meat next to me."
He looks at Oren worriedly. "Oren, we have to leave now?"
"Guys, we need to actually rest. It doesn't mean we can't eat, it doesn't mean we can't drink (a lot), it doesn't mean we can't leave at the crack of dawn either. But I take keeping everyone alive pretty seriously, and 1 healing spell isn't going to be sufficient to search the rest of the grounds and then decend beneath the Citadel. It just isn't. We cannot keep Breachill safe if we don't keep each other safe."
Assuming you follow...
The basement is a good ten degrees cooler than up above, and you see she has all manner of drink stashed down here, and jars upon jars of pickled items, including the pickled pigs' ears the place is named for. She presses a button and a panel in the wall unlatches, reveling a small stash of goods that appear to be of Hellknight fashion, though in better upkeep than those in the ruins. "How's this suit your fancy?" She hefted a great sword that was too heavy for her to wield gracefully. "Three gold and its yours."
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"I thought elves just meditated instead of sleeping," says Lisi with a wink. The level in his mug appears to be lower.
Meanwhile, at the Grace, Trinil brings Lisi's plate of food in time to eavesdrop on the tail end of he and Joran's conversation. "Aw, you and Narine? You two would be adorable together. And not just because you both have pointy ears." she winked. "Your first problem is asking this guy for advice," she joked, nodding at Joran. "If you want mine, be clear about your interest. If you two spend all your time talking of trees, she may think it's the trees you're interested in."
"Trini, I'm at a bit of a crossroads. In true elven fashion, I have no idea what I should do next with Narine, or with Breachill proper. That's why I joined the Call this year."
He jerks a thumb back at the broad shouldered human and shrugs. "He's big. Easy to bounce things off of. Words, ideas, boulders..."
Looking back and forth between Trinil and Lisi with possibly the slightest hint of a smile, "You two done? We done with the 'Joran' jokes yet? Okay, one: You're not babbling. Sometimes we just got to get it off our chest and the only way to do that is to talk about it." As he speaks his eyes dart back and forth between Trinil and the druid. "Because holding it in is just gonna drive you mad. TRUST ME," he nods firmly, pausing a moment as he looks up and takes a breath before returning to the conversation. "And secondly: I'm not seeing your problem, buddy. It sounds like to me she likes you a lot. I gotta be honest, I think you'd be making a grave mistake not to at least see where the relationship goes, my friend. I'd hate to see you pass up a good thing because of what ultimately sounds like fear. Get to know her better for crying out loud. You'd be crazy not to at least give it a chance. And if it doesn't work out it doesn't work out, but don't doom it from the get-go." He pauses again and wonders: What in the Nine Hells is the matter with me?! Something's wrong, something's... not right. I don't... he shakes his head in an attempt to get rid of the mental 'crazies' as he shoots a quick glance toward Trinil, hoping it was fast enough - or perhaps she was simply too busy - to notice. Quickly continuing, "Narine's a great gal. A tough boss to be sure but also a great gal. If I were in your shoes, I sure as heck wouldn't pass up the opportunity." Not a few moments later the others start to roll in. Rolling his eyes, "Cripes. We'll talk more later. And I still need to answer your question so don't let me forget," he tells him firmly, giving him a light tap on the shoulder and nodding.
He perks up as the small retinue comes in.
Once they enter the inn, Yasamina looks around for the rest of the bunch. "So what have you rascals been up to?", she puts on her entertainer smile.
"Drinkhail, Yasami. I'm looking to get in my cups and pouring out existential crises to Trini and this giant lump of meat next to me."
Waving it off, "Don't listen to him, we've just been talking, nothing more. What they heck have you been up to? Galavanting around town and breaking hearts?" he asks jokingly, giving her a wink.
Oren clutches the area where the knife went. It wasn't real and there's no wound, but that doesn't stop it from beating rapidly. "Coming here was stop the dreams." He mutters to himself. He shakily dries himself off and gets dressed.
The rest of his party sees an Oren that looks paler and generally less relaxed than a man that's coming out of bath area at a nice inn should. "The Elf Gate. We have to go back to the Citadel now."
He looks at Oren worriedly. "Oren, we have to leave now?"
Looking curiously at his fellow barbarian, "You don't look so well, big guy, you okay? What's the matter?" Rising from his seat, he lays a hand on Oren's shoulder and says, "Here, sit down, buddy, take my seat," while leading him to sit down. "Trin, darlin', could you get him a drink, please. I'm thinking he could use one about now." He then studies his pale faced friend a moment, "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you'd seen a ghost, buddy."
Oren stops. For a moment, he feels the urge to try and press it, but Cevendyll is right. It's late and he's far too drained to be of any use to the party should there be sufficient resistance in the parts of the Citadel that were unexplored, something that is likely, since much of the aboveground level was unexplored, to say nothing of what awaited them below.
"All right. We can go back tomorrow."
"I will admit that I am also concerned about delaying the exploration and discovery of this gate. But I think it is necessary." Caiten thinks for a few seconds. "It seems like the most worrying problems about the delay would be either someone from town heading to the Citadel before us, or something from the Citadel coming here when we are not prepared. It may be prudent to check with the city watch, or perhaps even set our own for the night to watch the road between here and the Citadel."
Caiten looks around taking inventory of the members of the team. "Does anyone know where Dario is? I saw him last at Quarters and Bits, but I haven't seen him since."
His eyes flicker off of the weapon and towards the stash that she has within the hidden compartment, noting what it was that she had hidden away. It appeared to have originated with the Hellknights and was in surprisingly good quality.
"Three gold? Certainly cheaper than the general store but I'm curious, how'd you get your hands on these things? They're from the Hellknights, aren't they?" Dario's tone remains low and avoids sound accusatory; the woman had these things hidden for a reason. He carefully watched her from the corner of her eye, trying to see if she'd lie or just come clean to him.
Oren stops. For a moment, he feels the urge to try and press it, but Cevendyll is right. It's late and he's far too drained to be of any use to the party should there be sufficient resistance in the parts of the Citadel that were unexplored, something that is likely, since much of the aboveground level was unexplored, to say nothing of what awaited them below.
"All right. We can go back tomorrow."
Cevendyl looks at Oren, he wasn't quite sure what could rattle a guy like that ...
"Oren, are you good? Can I get you a drink? Cast that last healing spell maybe? Everything okay buddy?"
"I think you'd be making a grave mistake not to at least see where the relationship goes, my friend. I'd hate to see you pass up a good thing because of what ultimately sounds like fear. Get to know her better for crying out loud. You'd be crazy not to at least give it a chance. And if it doesn't work out it doesn't work out, but don't doom it from the get-go."
Trinil wore a small, amused smile at Joran's advice to Lisi, before heading back to the kitchen to fetch food for the newcomers.
The blade is well polished, but you see no signs of recent use -- no spots of blood that were missed in the cleaning, no smell to hint that it was recently cleaned.
Roxie smirked. "Maybe once. But seein' as how there are no more Hellknights, round these parts at least, lets just say a couple buddies of mine happened upon them."
You have come to learn that Breachill is a very quaint sort of town, and you get the feeling this woman, with her not-technically-illegal salvaging operation, might be the closest thing to a criminal element to be found here, aside from Calmont. Her tone of voice carries enough swagger that she seems to think herself quite cunning, at the very least.
Sulee gives Oren a knowing and sympathetic look. "How long have you been having such premonitions? And have they been getting more frequent recently? Or more clear?"
Caiten sets Sulee down on the edge of the table. "I am going to see if I can find..."
"Wilford, I think his name is. The captain of the guard. I want to know what the standard watch setup is for the night. I'm also going to stop by one of the temples in the area. Probably Shelyn's Smile since it is the one I am most familiar with. I may also look around and see if I can find Dario, though I think he knows that several of us were planning on coming here."
"Sulee, if you would, stay here. Try to be surprised and excited if Dario arrives. You can talk to Oren and the others while you wait."
"Oh, you are sending yourself on the fetch quest this time?"
Sulee sighs and looks at Caiten. "Real emotions don't come on demand. I can fake being excited, but you wouldn't notice that. Just come get me again before going to bed."
"Yes. I can open the door when I am done." Sulee sticks her tongue out at him at that, but while grinning a bit.
Caiten turns to the others. "Shall we meet back here in the morning then when we are ready to go? It seems like a fine place to regroup."
Caiten leaves the Wizard's Grace without Sulee, heading off on the errands mentioned.
"Greetings. I am curious what the standard is for keeping watch over the roads leading out of town. Specifically the road towards Hellknight Hill."
"Also, would it be possible for us to inquire about who has come and gone along that road during particular time frames?"
Caiten gives his respects to Shelyn with unfeigned reverence as he enters. He then goes up to one of the greeters. "Do you sell Divine magic scrolls here? I would like to purchase two scrolls of Heal if I may."
Sulee gives Oren a knowing and sympathetic look. "How long have you been having such premonitions? And have they been getting more frequent recently? Or more clear?"
"I've been having dreams like this for as long as I can recall. My last dream was a few years ago and I saw this town burning, which was why I came here, in the hopes of stopping that from coming to pass. I had hoped that it would stop the dreams too."
"I will sometimes - though very rarely - get premonitions from my Patron. It can be quite unsettling. Mine have always been incredibly vague. If you are getting clear premonitions on a regular basis I can understand why it drives you so much. But, the town isn't burning currently. And we will make sure that it stays that way."
"Any clues in this latest premonition? Sometimes there are. Sometimes there aren't."
You approach the first guard you see. "Captain Lavendil's shift is over for the day... hey, you're one of them that helped with the fire, ain'tcha? My brother and his family were there. What can I help you with?" He listens to your questions attentively. "In times of trouble we set guards over the entrances, but it's not something we worry about on the regular. Posted a couple on the road by the goblins, just in case. Don't get many folk out here, really, except once a month for the call. The nine of you are the only strangers in town, far as I know."
The greeter bows and nods. "Welcome friend. We do indeed have some available, allow me to take care of that for you."
"I'm happy to have been of service."
"I am less concerned about the Goblins. Though watching them is understandable, and probably prudent. Would it be possible to have someone stationed watching the road headed towards the Citadel tonight? Even on an intermittent basis. I don't expect any trouble, but it is better to be prepared. We encountered some concerning things there earlier today and I don't want the town to be caught unaware."
"Thank you. That will be fine." Caiten pays the 8 gold and leaves.
"I will sometimes - though very rarely - get premonitions from my Patron. It can be quite unsettling. Mine have always been incredibly vague. If you are getting clear premonitions on a regular basis I can understand why it drives you so much. But, the town isn't burning currently. And we will make sure that it stays that way."
"Any clues in this latest premonition? Sometimes there are. Sometimes there aren't."
"I saw fire, then a gateway in a jungle. There were people standing in a circle in the gateway. They were shadows, so I couldn't see who they were, but they seemed to be linked by some magic and performing some ritual. They were plunging knives into their hearts. I don't know what it means, I'm sorry."
Joran runs a hand through his hair after hearing Oren's tale. Pondering it all a moment, he eventually shakes his head. "Nope. Not buying it. Not a premonition. I refuse to believe that. Personally, I just think it's just a bad dream, buddy. This town ain't burning down. Not as long as I live and breathe anyway. Unless!" he raises a finger, "you were just seeing the Town Hall burn. Maybe that was all it was. Okay, now that I can buy because Breachill ain't burning. It's not. It's just not," he states vehemently even though he is still unable to hide a level of concern within his tone.
"Premonitions usually aren't literal visions of the future. Often they are more symbolic with elements that may be recognized later with more information. So don't feel too bad that you don't understand it fully right now. Perhaps you will recognize the type of jungle tree when you see it later. Or even better - maybe you will be able to recognize the Elf portal on-sight when we find it in the Citadel. Since I don't think that any of us knows what it looks like."
"Another thing to mention. Often the emotions that you feel during a premonition are important too. Sometimes it isn't your own emotions, they are part of the message."
"Emotions huh? Interesting." Joran turns to Oren, "Plunging knives into their hearts?! Seriously?! Man that is twisted. You might want to lay off the spiced goat at dinner time, friend. I'm glad I've never had a bad dream or bad premonitions or whatever you wanna call 'em," he says as he supports his face with three fingers and a thumb while placing his elbow upon the bar. "How often do you have these type of dreams?"
After leaving Shelyn's Smile, Caiten takes a walk around a circuit of Breachill. Partially keeping a lookout to see if he can find Dario. But mostly just enjoying the evening.
The street eventually leads back to the Wizard's Grace and Caiten walks back in. "Greetings, everyone."
Caiten sits down at the table and pulls out the unidentified scroll that he is still carrying around.
Joran cuts his eyes over to the android. "Hey, Caiten." Rising from his seat, "You know, seeing how we aren't going anywhere until tomorrow, I'm gonna go change and get out of this gear. I'll be back. Shouldn't be more than ten or fifteen minutes." Looking to Oren, "Hold that thought, Oren, I won't be gone long. I want to know more about these dreams of yours." He cuts his eyes toward Trinil but notices she's busy. He can't help but smile as he takes his leave.
I 'talk too much', huh?" he repeats her accusation mentally, a slight grin and narrowed eyes can be seen upon his visage if anyone seems him walking along. Okay, Joran, you heard the gorgeous lady. Just shutup. Yep, shut your yap. I can do that. I can. And I'm gonna prove it to her. You know, if you're thinking what I know you're thinking, then you're thinking up some trouble that may very well get you into A LOT of trouble, you big oaf. Don't so something you'll regret. Well, if I didn't do something I regret, that wouldn't make me Joran now would it? Plus, regret is simply a matter of perspective. Not only that, but, I'll find the answers I'm looking for. One way or another I'll get my answer. At that thought, an odd sort of pain - something that feels like his stomach is being tied into knots - suddenly occurs. Forming a curious look that's resembles something more along the lines of annoyed, "Man I do not like that feeling! What the heck is that about?! That has to go away. I CANNOT be dealing with something like this. Man that's concerning. We need to head out in the morning and I can't be feeling like this. I sure hope I haven't contracted something from one of those creatures. I don't feel sick or anything but it sure doesn't feel right. Maybe it'll go away. I sure hope it does." The barbarian can only shake his head in annoyance as he makes his way home. Unfortunately, the pain doesn't seem to fade very much...
Not fifteen minutes later, Joran returns back wearing a tee shirt, that just so happens to define his upper body quite well, along with his britches and boots. As he walks in, he makes his way casually to the others as he works to locate Trinil. Now the 'knot-like' feeling in his stomach simply lingered a bit over the time he was gone. But when he caught sight of Trinil, that same knot-like feeling seemed to increase ten-fold. He was halfway into a smile when it hit and the smile quickly vanished, replaced by a look of irritation. What is that?! Why does that keep happening?! This is a bunch of <bleep>! This is really starting to piss me off! Mentally furious, and realizing he's betrayed himself with his expression, the barbarian quickly works to recover by instantly reverting to a smile. "Okay, everyone can relax, I'm back!" he says with a clap of his hands and a wry grin. "You can go ahead now, Oren. Thanks for waiting."
It wasn't particularly an inconvenience for Oren that Joran decided to run out and get a different shirt. It had been a while since Oren had to describe his dreams and this wasn't like any other dream he had ever had before.
"During the dream? Nothing. After it? Fear, lots of fear. I have had these dreams intermittently throughout my life. Not as a nightly occurrence, but frequently enough so that I know these nightmares aren't merely the result of a scary story or an overactive imagination."