"We appreciate the gesture, Master Lyrandis." she says with a slight smile "Do you mind if I stay and listen? This has piqued my curiousity and I would greatly desire to hear more of these events."
Erelune must've guided my steps to this town...I see her hand guiding me. I believe the answers will lie with the Green Robed Figure. Whether it's purposes are good or evil will be revealed in the Green Robe's presense, I believe we must head to where this figure seems to be to seek our answers. A night of rest and the chance to sing for my sup would be a welcome event so I would propose that we, if we intend to keep traveling as a group, take the evening in reclination and find the Figure in the morning to get some answers at, Castle Verson did you say? Erelune drew me to the group so I believe it is fate that we are together, possibly we were drawn together directly through the Gods' own will to carry out great deeds.
Azuma laughs around the dripping boar's rib he is munching on.
'This is definitely some kind of sign, friend. I agree. But we can't very well walk into this chieftain's castle and say "show us your Green Wizard!" We'll need some reason, won't we? Good food by the way...'
The hearth flickers and a pale light filters into Water Under the Bridge. At the door is a figure, silhouetted darkly against the light outside for just a moment before striding in, shutting the door as quickly as it was opened. It is a man, clad in blue and green garb. It appears the dress of one in a low noble station. Around his neck hangs a chain, and upon that chain is a golden device. It is a sword whose crossguard form the arms of a balance: the holy symbol of King Arias. The man’s light hair is cut short, almost militaristic, and he sports no beard or moustache. He is perhaps in his early middle years, though obviously still fit and athletic, and he walks in his dark boots with the experience of a seasoned warrior. An elegant scabbard hangs at his side, the dark leather etched and inlaid with silver images of cavalry, and the gleaming silver pommel of an ornate sword protruding from the scabbard’s top.
“Speak of the devil,” Laryndis smiles. “Sir Tyraval!” The half-elf rises and moves towards the man as a friend. “What brings you to my establishment? Here to pay your tab?”
“Not on duty,” the man smiles. “I’ve come on account of your brother-in-law.” He looks to the companions at the table. “Are these the ones said to have slain the Shrieking Ghost?”
“Yes, I believe there was a mention of that,” Laryndis assures him. “News is spreading fast these days, isn’t it?”
“Quite,” Sir Tyraval replies. “The guard dispatched a messenger to me as soon as the travelers appeared at the gates. I went straight to the Count and told him of the development. He’s sent me here,” the man strides towards the table, “to meet you, our acclaimed new heroes." He gives just a moment's consideration to Azuma, the Ornathi chewing on his boar ribs. But he continues: "The whole town is buzzing with your news, as I’m sure you are aware by now. Ah, but where is my propriety? Ahem.” Sir Tyraval straightens.
“I am Sir Tyraval de Ganael; paladin of Our Divine Lord, King Arias; sworn champion and emissary of Count Belren Verson, Fifth Lord of Castle Verson and Lord of Versonton County. I officially extend you the Count’s greetings. His Lordship has heard of your victory in the hills this very day and extends his thanks and admiration to you all. As his emissary, I have been charged with delivering to you an invitation to eat with his Lordship the Count in Castle Verson, on the morn tomorrow. His Lordship would very much like to meet each of you in person.” He stops for a moment to consider Talia. “His Lordship did not mention you, Mistress, but considering your status as Weird and the toll of the bell tower, I feel the Count would wish to have you at his table as well, should you desire to be there.” Turning his eyes back to the group in general, he asks “What reply shall I bring his Lordship?”
"I would be honored to accompany these people to an audience with Count Verson."
Ask and Erelune will provide.....
Mine own answer is a "Yes", I would be delighted to join for a meeting.
"I'm humbled by the offer and gladly accept."
Marcellus wonders idly if he needs to find a tailor in this town.
Xendril asks the barkeep if he may sing of light and magic and Erelune upon the stage after giving his answer to the Emissary.
If yes,
I raise my voice to praise her name. *gestures toward Erelune's symbol on the wall...and begins singing.
Magic lies within a moonbeam
and the passion that fills you within
Erelune's arms encircle you
While the darkness is calling
with a scream that fills your heart with cold
Erelune's arms encircle you
Protecting you, yeah..
You're wishing for something different
you're wanting a change
Cry out for her
Call out for heeerr...yeah!
Breathing in sweet magic's whisper
and the light that opens the night
Erelune's arms encasing you
There are rainbows in the moonlight
A warm soul can be thawed from ice
Erelune smile down on those
Empowering you, yeah....
You're wishing for something different
you're wanting a change
Cry out for her
Call out for heeerr...yeah
Perform check 1d20+4=21
Xendril performs several more songs that are popular in the area to give a bit of a show...
"The Count will be pleased, as am I. You have a good measure about you, friends. I assume you shall be lodging here with Laryndis tonight. You're in good hands. I shall come in the morning to escort you to Castle Verson. I wish I could stay to speak longer, but I have other duties to attend, and must return with your answers to the Count. Until the morrow, friends." The paladin bows and turns. "Laryndis, shall I send your greetings to his Lordship?"
The half-elf shrugs. "You can if you wish. Do say hello to my sister for me, however."
"I shall." As Tyraval walks out the door, several townsfolk walk in. After a brief exchange with the knight, they head over to the tables near the heroes.
I thought I saw them come in here!
I bet you folks have some tales to tell!
Laryndis hears Xendril's request to perform. "Yes, friend, I think a song would do us well. Perhaps draw in quite the crowd for the dinner time! I best get busy with some more food. I leave the stage in your hands, which I am certain are more than capable!" The half-elf busies himself, and is not wrong about the sorcerer's abilities. More people file into the tavern. A good half of them sit enraptured by the strangers' songs, though certainly the mystique surrounding his party's arrival earlier in the day draws even more folk than usual. Soon whispered conversations abound in the room under the cloak of Xendril's music.
What of the Green Wizard? Was he seen with the Shrieking Ghost?
I tell you, he's a necromancer! He conjured the Shrieking Ghost from beyond the grave.
Hush now, you don't know what you're talking about. The Green Wizard is here to save us! He's a Lord of Enn Varas come to unify the land once more!
Bah. Now look who doesn't know what he says. If the Lords were going to do anything to help us, they would have already. They're probably as powerless to stitch Merithil back together as you, I, and Prince Eonal.
Well, what of that Spellguard which came through here before the winter set in? You think it's coincidence that a Lord of Enn Varas is here now?
The Green Wizard ain't no Lord of Enn Varas. He's a Khaermani spy, or maybe an assassin! He's going to bring doom to us all, you just watch!
None of you know what you're talking about! The Green Wizard is a she, an elven princess fleeing from some trouble in Nysil!
Talia has a slight look of disapproval on her face as the bard sings of Erelune but she makes no comment.
Marcellus takes a third of his ale in one deep swig to wash down a mouthful of ribs. He nods to the stage as he asks Talia, "Is it the singing or the food - that grimace? Come on, he's pretty good. He should definitely fly around the room while he sings, though. That would completely floor them."
"It is not a matter of talent, it is a matter of faith. Our patrons have many areas of overlapping interest however our methods differ considerably." Talia sighs "I should be more open to other ways of thought but I disapprove of Erelune's methods.". She smiles slightly at the mention of the bard swooping through the inn's common room ashe sings and says "He would certainly be the first performer to do so. It is rare for Versonton to host a flying minstrel."
Dinner with the Count! This is all working out amazingly well!
Armaros masks his excitement and turns his attention to Laryndis, attempting to call him over. "Tell me Laryndis, if you have a moment, of your brother-in-law the Count."
Azuma puts tomorrow's audience with the headman out of his mind and concentrates on the food and his new companions. He watches the conversation between Marcellus and the Wierd with interest. Summonning up his courage, he finally asks:
"How did you come to serve the goddess, mistress Talia? If you don't mind my asking..."
She pauses for a moment, considering her answer before saying "I was taken in by the clergy of Orran after my homeland was devastated by a plague. I found that the teachings and ways of Orran were not for me so I left seeking out Fate and found a home within the temple."
Harmen waits patiently for the innkeepers answer as he enjoys the show.
"Well," the gray-haired half-elf says, pulling up a chair for a moment, "I'm not sure where to start. I suppose that's because I'm not sure how I feel about him. I've always thought well of him as a lord. He takes good care of his people, far better than most in these troubled times. Though as I've gotten to know him some, he does strike me as a bit vain. It's a minor flaw for good leadership, though, and one he keeps checked most of the time.
"My sister is a good bit younger than I. I've always looked out for her. The two of us have had no one to rely on save each other for most of our lives. I guess I was just a bit shocked when I turned around one day and found her married. To a noble, no less! I doubt I'd have any reservations at all against Belren, I mean Count Verson, if it wasn't for my reluctance to let go of Laryndel as my little sister. I suppose that's the elf blood in me. Always looking for the past and surprised by the present."
Laryndis looks off in thought, not unhappily, but obviously distracted in his mind by some consideration.
Marcellus leans in closer to Laryndis and asks quietly, "Some folks around here seem to have connected this Green Wizard with a spellguard who passed through. I wonder if there could be a connection?"
Marcellus pauses to join in a rousing cheer for Xendril.
"Well if we're to be dining with nobility I'll need to run through me belongings and see if I've got anythin besides patched wool n rags" Harmen politely excuses himself from the table and heads off through the other patrons.
Laryndis comes out of his reverie. "Hm? Oh, yes. The Spellguard. I can't tell you if the man did or didn't have anything to do with the Green Wizard. I don't know much about the Spellguard at all, really. He didn't stay here and I never met him in the flesh. He wasn't in town long. There was a bit of talk here and there, though. I imagine you'll find the gossip mongers more than willing to chew your ear off with their addled rumors."
"Well, hello again, kin!" There stands the halfling, nonchalantly in the darkened recess of the doorway to the inn. "Going off to dream land so early?" He smiles knowingly.
Armaros looks off towards Xendril, but just the slightest bit to the side.
The battle in Armaros' conscience begins to weigh on him....
I have to find SOME dirt on the man...
Armaros begins to wander towards some of the other visitors, attempting to strike up conversations concerning the town and it's leadership.
"So that's what we're all waiting for. My advice, if you'll have it, is to cool your heels until he gets here. I'm talking cooling your heels on The Plan, of course. I can tell by the looks of you that you've things to be doing in the meantime. I heard that Lord Bigwig wants to have a word with you in the morning. That's good! Get to know the place some. Then you'll be ready when Lord Sparrow comes a-calling."
*After finishing his set and taking a request or two, Xendril returns to the table*
So we gonna be headin' to find the Green Robed One at the castle?
"I believe that we are to visit him tomorrow. Or have I misunderstood you Laryndis. So often do I misinterpreted the words of the living." Talia says, inquiring to Laryndis quietly.
“Great show, friend,” Laryndis says to Xendril. “Water Under the Bridge hasn’t had a performance like that in a year at least. But it looks like the crowd’s thinning out now. They’ve been leaving early this whole week for fear of the Shrieking Ghost. But the seemed easier tonight. I suppose one way to know if the Shrieking Ghost is gone or not is if we hear its calls tonight. We have every night so far.” The half-elf looks around at the tavern. “I’d best get to cleaning this place up. The halfling who met you outside, Caemus, will be along shortly and show you to your beds. May Erelune smile upon your dreams tonight!”
Laryndis takes his leave. In the moment of quiet which follows, the back door to the tavern opens and in walks the halfling. “Greetings again and good evening to you, masters and mistress. I’ve already shown my kin, Harmen, to his room for the night. Now I’ll be pleased to show you the same.” Caemus pauses for a second. “Wasn’t there another one of my kin with you when you arrived? Driving the wagon?” He looks around. Sure enough, Faz is nowhere to be seen.
“Must be out attending his own business. No matter. I’ll send him along when he comes back. This way, masters and mistress!” Caemus leads the companions off. He picks up a candle as he exits the tavern and lights it, using it to navigate the short walk to the inn and then through the hall, up the stairs, to the rooms on the top floor. “You may be the first travelers of the year, but we expect more soon. The masters will be in this room, but mistress Talia gets a bit of comfort to herself in the one across the hall there. Enjoy the night, masters and mistress!”
Then, from the sky, comes a great claw. It is skeletal and three-fingered, the digits all of uneven lengths. It snatches one of the walking dead and retreats into the clouds. Then it darts down and snatches another. And another. The restless dead begin wailing out for you to save them. But you cannot move. They grow angry, their eyes filling with hatred. Their arms reach not in desperation, but in anger. But before the waves of the dead can reach you, the claw appears again, driving down from the sky, right for you. You bolt awake. The night is still.
The dawn breaks bright. Golden sunlight pours into the room, awakening the companions from their rest. Someone knocks on the door. It is Caemus. “Good morning, masters! Sir Tyraval has come to escort you to the castle. I’ve already sent mistress Talia down. I hope you slept well.”
Moments later, the companions enter the tavern and find Laryndis sitting with the knight, Sir Tyraval. He drains a tankard of what looks like milk, then spying the group rises and makes a quick bow. “Well met this morning, friends. I’m glad to see you so early. If you are ready, I shall take you to His Lordship, the Count.”
Harmen managed to tidy up a little bit for the occasion. He has put on a pair of white woolen pants and a fancy blue cotton shirt, neither possesing the tears and travel stains of his garb the past day. His leather belt holds his finest knife with a clearly polished sheathe. A tan sheepskin cloak is draped so that it hangs down in front of him at the shoulders secured there by a burnished bronze pin in the form of a Mask of Tradgedy.
It's painfully obvious that Harmen is a man of limited means putting some effort into looking his best.
"I'm set and ready my good man."
Harmens mood is very cheerful and he goes about his morning buisiness softly humming a tune.
I am ready to go!
*Xendril has never been in any type of fortress and looks forward to the experience with a smile.*
Armaros makes a final inspection of his clothes, washed as best he could manage the night before and freed of most their filth, with the exception of a few spots of dulled green and some faded red on his splint. Hope this is good enough. Armaros gives a quick nod to Sir Tyraval.
Marcellus comes down well rested and dressed in the best he has. His peace-bonded greatsword is slung over his shoulder - he figures its better to take it and have someone say something to him, rather than leave it and end up unnecessarily unarmed.
"So, no shrieking ghosts last night, eh? That's great. I guess now we're worthy of the town's thanks we received yesterday."
Talia wanders in a few minutes late, a preoccupied expression on her face as she toys with the hourglass shaped pendant that hangs from her neck. She says nothing, only nodding briefly to everyone and following them to the castle in silence.
Azuma shambles downstairs rubbing his eyes, looking a bit the worse for wear. He hasn't had time to brush down his clothes properly, but he has placed his shark's tooth necklace prominently on his chest and pushed his hands through his greasy black hair. His falchion rests at his hip, still peace bound, and he has his walking cudgel in his hand, ready for the road ahead.
"I had a bad dream." He mumbles apologetically to his companions.
At Azuma's apology Talia starts out of her reverie and stares at him with an unblinking gaze, contemplating. "Coincidence does not happen. Not when so much has already happened." she thinks, already considering how best to get the falchio-wielding man to reveal his nightmare.
What type of dream would be enough to be considered a nightmare for one as powerful as yourself, Azuma? Twould be a pity if you didn't talk about it and it made you lose another night of rest, that could start impacting your abilities. Please, talk to us, we are all friends here.
Azuma looks thankfully at the Sorceror.
"Yes, maybe it would be better to speak of it. I have always had strange dreams, since I was a boy. This one was too real.
I was in the mountains, alone and far from the sea. Below me was a great valley, and as I stood on the edge of it a giant made of bone rose above me. His hands had three claws each, and he made to attack me. That's when I woke. It seems not so bad now but it disturbed my rest, to be sure."
Perhaps a warning of some sort...there are certain gods that give their followers a gift to allow them to interpret dreams and find the hidden meanings within....
It may be just a dream but perhaps this dream has deeper meaning, beyond "watch out for bone giants" which I think we all would agree is pretty much common sense.
Talia, you seem to have some knowledge of this type of creature, any thoughts on what this all means?
"This tiding reeks of some evil," the paladin says. "Versonton seems beset by phantoms in these dark days, from beyond the walls to within our own dreams. But no, we did not hear the Shrieking Ghost this past night," Sir Tyraval addresses Marcellus. "Mayhaps the disturbing images were some small curse it laid upon you, or a taint acquired from coming in such close proximity. Legends tell of such ailments. But I am no conjurer, I do not know these things. Laryndis, would Laryndel be able to answer these questions?"
The gray-haired half-elf shakes his head. "Of course not, Tyraval. My sister isn't one for necromancy, curses, or any such witchcraft. No offense, mistress Talia," he adds with a belated nod.
"Well," the paladin eyes the door thoughtfully, "we haven't time to waste on dreams. It's probably nothing." None of you are fooled into thinking the knight truly believes that. "We'll see what Laryndel can make of it, if anything. If not, perhaps you can return to your temple and meditate on the matter, Weird Talia." Sir Tyraval looks more closely at the priestess. "Is everything all right, mistress?"
"Yes. Thank you." Talia replies to the paladin after a moment and then speaks again "I too was haunted by an...unsettling dream last night. I was in a grave yard, unable to protect my rising children from a gigantic skeletal hand that came down from the heavens and snatched them from me. It seems that Fate has bound us, Azuma Stormcloud. I shall meditate on this matter after our meeting with the Baron." She spends the res of the journey to the castle brooding in silence, staring intently in an unsettling manner at Azuma.