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OOC: This is a board for those shadow lodge characters who have completed Rivalries End and received the special number 17 gencon boon.
As you arrive home from you latest adventure to far off lands you find a note wedged into your door frame. Across the top of the sheet is a map scrawled in a dirty hand leading to a section of the grand lodge you have never heard of before with a message at the bottom, "If you feel you have the spirit to continue on even after all the rest of our lodge has been scattered to the winds meet here."
Sitting at the far end of the table a half orc sits hunched over the table cleaning various implements of war and death. His current fixation seems to be a large deep red repeating crossbow that he is polishing to a shine, boxes of bolts sit in various states of refill and prep, and a few odd gems sit nearby. At his side a small owlbear cub covered in fluffy down curled up on a throw pillow nearby.
"'Ello" says the orc in a thick accent, "I've reached out to all of you with the hopes that there were still some of us left keeping the spirit of the Shadow lodge alive. I am hear to call us together in a coalition of sorts and try to bind us as brothers throughout these dark times and hopefully pool our resources so that we can find some way to keep our people together and fighting even as the traitorous Torch skulks about this world with the information he stole with the sweat of our labor. Now who might you be?"
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"Spirits of the Shadow in fact" he says lighting a fat cigar and sliding a small case across the table. Inside rest at least a dozen cigars and a pack of tendertwigs, "Picked up those from my personal stash, the tendertwigs are from the Restfuls."
He reaches to his belt and retrieves a large bottle of Old Law whiskey from his belt and 4 shot glasses of brushed steel all hanging from leather lanyards
"Also, I brought the whiskey."
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Lacking a permanent domicile and proper door frame, your letter is delivered to the personal letter-box of Roakar, emissary of the Shundar-quah and future chieftain of the Consolidated Shaonti Nation.
Below the mail box in elaborate script obviously written by someone else is a small sign that states "If urgent or important this letter may be forwarded with postmaster approval. If letter deemed non-urgent by recipient, costs will be recuperated at senders expense. If not forwarded, it may be a while, as Roakar is currently on special assignment."
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A hulking Shoanti warrior looks up from the thick tome he's reading and absentmindedly cleans his reading glasses with the silk bookmark.
"I can't say that I see what the big deal is. Maybe I'm just too new to The Society to see the big picture, but I don't think that what ol' Torchey did was that wrong. A little surprising and an awful lot of trouble to go through, but entirely unexpected.
I mean, for all the trouble that little spider lady put us through, more than a few of my confederates were pretty tempted to do the same before we smuggled her out -all unconscious and wrapped up in her fancy magic rug.
The high ups really shouldn't be overly concerned with the information Torch made off with. They have the resources and knowledge to make problems like this go away if they're sufficiently motivated to do so. And if they do let him get to them, maybe they're not fit to lead afterall."
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Lacking a permanent domicile and proper door frame, your letter is delivered to the personal letter-box of Roakar, emissary of the Shundar-quah and future chieftain of the Consolidated Shaonti Nation.
Below the mail box in elaborate script obviously written by someone else is a small sign that states "If urgent or important this letter may be forwarded with postmaster approval. If letter deemed non-urgent by recipient, costs will be recuperated at senders expense. If not forwarded, it may be a while, as Roakar is currently on special assignment."
You recieve 2 letters from a beleaguered postmen while out on assignment, one seems to be the aforementioned note the next is a letter addressed to Roakar in fluent Shoanti, "Good dawn fellow spirit of the shadows, I hope this letter finds you well. If you find yourself still a believer in the ideals of the shadow lodge even after we have been scattered to the night meet us here within the grand lodge of Absolam at your earliest convenience. We know our people are stronger then our leaders betrayal. Hope to see you soon honorable chieftan. Also, if you happen upon Eats What He Kills of the Shundar Quah tell him Harsk sent you. He'll set you up right proper until we manage to meet."
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A hulking Shoanti warrior looks up from the thick tome he's reading and absentmindedly cleans his reading glasses with the silk bookmark.
"I can't say that I see what the big deal is. Maybe I'm just too new to The Society to see the big picture, but I don't think that what ol' Torchey did was that wrong. A little surprising and an awful lot of trouble to go through, but entirely unexpected.
I mean, for all the trouble that little spider lady put us through, more than a few of my confederates were pretty tempted to do the same before we smuggled her out -all unconscious and wrapped up in her fancy magic rug.
The high ups really shouldn't be overly concerned with the information Torch made off with. They have the resources and knowledge to make problems like this go away if they're sufficiently motivated to do so. And if they do let him get to them, maybe they're not fit to lead afterall."
Second this is the man who has for almost 3 years now avoided the ire of not just the 10 but the religious killer cult that is the red mantis assassins. This is not a man I think the 10 can just roll on, they will need feet on the ground looking for him and bodies willing to take their pound of flesh from his hide.
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[posted as Navina]
The lean and slender framed woman, seated with a natural grace and nobility, radiates an unearthly beauty and sensuality.
Blonde and delicately elven in appearance, her pale blue human-like eyes betray her Azata-blooded origins.
She is dressed in a mithril breastplate with flowing silks, and long black silk gloves covered her hands from finger to elbow.
In Shoanti: "I see the tongue of the plains warriors is well known among those still true to the Lodge's aims."
She lifts a glass of strong liqueur to her mouth, her hands seeming to tremble with the effort.
In Taldane/Common: "I look forward to continuing the good works we started two years ago. I bring experience in negotiations, diplomacy, and social situations to our endeavor. My connection to the healing power of Pharasma has saved many of my fellow Pathfinders."
She finishes her drink and, vessel shaking a bit, puts her glass down.
"Let's see what we can do in Torch's absence."
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[Posted as Veracity Reynolds]
As Navina is speaking, a sweet looking redheaded human woman walks in, her almost innocent appearance marred by the leather armor, darkwood composite bow, and multiple quivers of arrows. A medallion with an winged eye in a circle taps against her armor as she walks to an empty chair.
She pulls out the bow as she settles into a chair, checking the wood for any problems.
"Hello, everyone. Sorry if I'm late to the party. I'm Veracity Reynolds... most call me Vera."
She then scowls slightly at Navina. "Torch's absence? The only reason he's alive to be absent is that he was able to get away from me and my man Jayne," she pats the bow she's been inspecting, "before we were able to poke him full of holes."
"But, despite the harm he's done, there's a bright lining this disaster. The fact that people are gathering here means that even if Torch was a opportunistic bastard, the need to watch the Decemvirate like hawks and help keep our fellow Pathfinders protected from their machinations is a mission that goes on without him."
Vera then smiles slightly, if a little bitterly. "As Father Barsi says, 'One must always build upon the foundations of hope.' I plan on building on my hope from within the Grand Lodge, watching from within. Who's with me on that?"