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The Prytian Quest (RPG)
This is one of two threads devoted to a narrative role-playing adventure. The character framework utilizes AD&D 3.0 but the “system” is free form. It is set in a fantasy world of my own creation, called Crella. This thread tracks an adventuring party from the kingdom of Prytia. The other thread, which is entitled The Cranstonian Expedition, deals with a rival group from neighboring Cranstone.
Feel free to comment throughout the thread, but please do not threadjack. The idea is to continue the thread as a narrative role-playing adventure. Also, if you wish to participate as a secondary character, there is a waiting list so just drop me a PM. All out-of-character (OC) posts should be made in the regular font and color. Questions, comments, etc. All in-character posts (IC) should be made in sienna, the color which I will initiate below. Posting in character should be done in third person past tense, using the name of your character or appropriate personal pronouns. A very simple example: “Sol moved into the cavern” should be used instead of “I move into the cavern.” When your character speaks, set it apart with quote marks. Try to be tidy with grammar and spelling so things are clear to the other players. You can assume and therefore interact with typical surroundings (i.e., if you’re in a tavern, you can order an ale without prompting), but do not “power game” events or surroundings that have substantial impact on the characters and plot. That’s my role. It may take awhile to get the hang of this narrative style of RPG, and I may step in to correct you or ask you to edit portions of your post, but it’ll flow well soon enough. Primary players, as we begin take the opportunity to describe your character and his thoughts going in. Be descriptive, and interact with one another. The primary characters in this thread include: A Zanthan/Corpidaran dwarf (sachmo71) A Prytian bard (MikeVic) A Prytian paladin (Breeze) A Prytian/Kashan wizard, Baldar (SplitPersonality1) A Cross-Kir monk, Puli (mordheim) A wemic ranger (daedelus) |
It seemed from all accounts as if the nobleman was usually quite agitated, but he had stormed from the room and called for one of his captains immediately upon the receipt of some ill news. Now the five who had joined on this curious quest stood alone in the room, a cozy side chamber in Lord Pelspin’s border village dwelling. A fire still crackled upon the hearth of a sizable fireplace, but the hour was late, and shadows dominated the corners of the room.
Prior to his exit, Lord Pelspin had just been saying that the party would soon meet up with their 6th member, a wemic, somewhere close outside the village. That left the three Prytians, the foreigner dwarf, and the aged monk alone to their own devices for the moment. It was a peculiar gathering, and the silence was awkward. |
"Perhaps we should follow the captain and see if we cannot learn more information about the wemic we are to meet?"
Soriun moves to the door from which the captain exited, but waits for the rest of the party before leaving. |
The door promptly creaked open, and an elderly servant dressed in the gold-patterned livery of the Pelspin noble house peeked his balding head in through the crack.
"Your pardon, gentlemen. Lord Pelspin asked me to beg your patience, and to indicate that you are to remain here for the moment. I will have food and drink brought in shortly." Not waiting for a reply, the servant withdrew his head and pulled the heavy wood door closed. |
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Geography lessons around there must be interesting . . . Nitpicks aside, I'll be reading with interest. |
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"Well that settles that, eh?" The dwarf smiled as he moved over to a comfortable chair near the fire and sat down heavily. "I could use a bit of drink." He looked over at the silent group of strangers. "Since we'll be traveling together for a while, I suppose introductions are in order? I am Soriun Keystone, war priest of Clangadin Silverbeard! Don't let that bother you, though. I'm sure he will be good enough to spare a little grace for all of you while we travel together!" At this, the dwarf let out a deep, hearty laugh.
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The wizard looked over at the dwarf with obvious disdain and scowled. "I am Baldar. A wizard." It was painfully obvious to all of those present, that this wizard was not the smiling type.
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The dwarf nods to Baldar, still smiling. "What god do you follow, wizard?" the dwarf asks.
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"You may all call me..... Puli"
The elderly male, clearly a monk of somekind by his clothing, stood in the corner of the room, carefully observing the others. Obviously not terribley chatty. |
The dwarf laughed his booming laugh again. "Lively bunch we've got here! I just hope you fight better than you make conversation, or I'm going to be asking Clangadin for a lot of healing power!"
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"So... you guys are my newest found friends? Pleased to meet the lot of ya," said the Prytian bard. "I've seen many different people throughout my short life, travelled many paths, and experienced many things. I know quite a few things, and I don't know some," continued the bard, who looked around the room wide-eyed, hands out, and slouched over. "One thing I do know is it's a smart idea to get acquainted with new friends. I thank Mr. Keystone over there for getting the ball rolling, and I wish for Baldar and Puli to express more information." The bard glanced over at the wizard and the monk as he said this, and then looked at the various items around the room. "Now, you must be thinking: 'Who is this teller of tales standing before us?' Today is your lucky day, for I will reveal three things about myself..." The bard slightly stuck his hand out and raised his index finger. "Number one: my name." The bard raised his middle finger. "Number two: a small piece on information about my past." The bard rasied his third finger. "And number three: what I would like to eat before we meet with our sixth friend." The bard smiled at the other heroes in the room, and continued to talk. "They call me Mavirr. Not pronounced Mah-Vur, nor May-Veer, but instead May-Vur. I do not have a last name, nor do I care for one. There is only one Mavirr like myself in these lands, and that's what sets me apart from any other folk that share my name." Mavirr looked around the room, and nodded to every other hero. "I do not know who my parents are, and I feel like some ale and thick steak once we are done with this Lord fellow here! If you have any questions, I will answer them in due time. Now, how long are we expected to wait here?" Mavirr sat down on a chair by the fireplace, nodded at Soriun Keystone, and continued to look around at what was in the room. |
Baldar the wizard slowly turned toward Mavirr's direction and shook his head the way an instructor does when a student speaks out of turn. After a slight pause, he finally spoke.
"I hate to crap all over your happiness speech, sir bard, but I must confess that I choose not to...", he paused seaching for the right word. "divulge any information about myself that I deem unnessesary to the task at hand. I am here in the capacity of a wizard. This means that I will use magic to gather information, to heal and to blow things apart. That is all you need to know at this time. If the situation calls for it, I will speak more. Until that time, leave me in peace." Baldar then addressed Soriun. "Dwarf. Earlier you asked me which god I follow. Well, which of your gods is the patron of fine wine? He or she would be the one I follow at the moment for I am thirsty and my cup is empty." With that, Baldar turned to face the hearth. |
Down the hall and but a few thick doors removed from the members of the quest, hands clenched tightly behind his back, Lord Pelspin paced edgily about the broad reaches of a brightly-lit chamber. A Prytian of some high standing, he was known in noble circles for his wayward ideas, a smoldering temper, and deep ponderings of olden history. All three familiar notions held true to form now.
“Stolen! The damn copy has been filched from this very residence! And we’ve no idea who’s responsible…Rhyllans…Cranstonians…common thieves…I know not.” Vasheliave shifted in his chair, trying to keep the mud on his riding boots from spreading any further to the luxurious wine-colored carpet which graced most of the floor. A trusted captain and jack-of-all-trades long in the service of House Pelspin, he had been summoned from the principal estate deeper in central Prytia to this border residence in the middle of the night. He was tired and sore, but he knew from his liege-lord’s mood that he’d get little rest until an investigation was begun. “I will start an inquiry immediately, my lord,” Vasheliave said tentatively. This was not the only concern, of course. The adventurers housed elsewhere in the building were another, perhaps greater one, and he knew this was a potentially-touchy subject to broach. He hesitated before finally asking, “A delicate point, my lord, but…can we trust the company that’s assembled for the quest?” Lord Pelspin halted in his paces, placed his hands on his hips, and exhaled deeply. This was not the angry outburst of emotion Vasheliave had feared, and he, too, exhaled a bit to himself in relief. “I’ve no choice, Vash,” the nobleman said quietly, using a familiar name for his captain-of-arms. “The old Kir monk brought the whole matter to me, so I’ve no reason to doubt him, and the Prytians I’ve no real qualms with; Mavirr, the bard, has a local reputation of sorts, Baldar is a wizard but seems true to his native blood, and the paladin was hand-picked for this task. The dwarf, however, is a foreigner and a definite unknown…his origins might well be shady. And then there’s the Wemic. Whatever you wish to say about Wemics, I can’t see them conspiring with the enemies of Prytia in such a manner. And he has yet to even make contact with the quest…” Vasheliave stood to address his lord directly. “I take it, then, you’ve committed to do this thing? To undertake the quest?” “Aye,” said Pelspin, with the tired suggestion of a smile. “They must leave forthwith, however. I had hoped for more preparation, more time, but this…this debacle forces my hand. They will depart in the morning and make contact with the Wemic. See that they are prepared. I will speak to them first. They are probably getting restless as we speak.” |
The adventurers' room was quite small, forcing a bit of rather undesirable closeness to a gathering of strangers. The bard, Mavirr, took in the various details with a sweeping glance. The room was plain, but the features were fine enough to indicate the wealth of their owner. A large wooden table dominated the center of the room, and it as well as the half-dozen chairs around it were ornately carved. Other than the aforementioned cups, a pitcher of water, and a plain wooden candle-holder, the table was clear.
Two sconces flanked the one doorway, and smoke from their oily flames added a stuffiness to the air that was not helped by the fire in the hearth. Mavirr noted the carved mantle, which depicted a burbeast head...burbeast herds were the source of much wealth in this region of Prytia. The walls of the room were polished wood, but bare. The room was apparently nothing more than a holding pen. A servant, much younger than the last, opened the door and shuffled in, placing a glass carafe and a wooden platter upon the table. Slices of meat, white cheese, and a few meager pieces of fruit were on the platter; the carafe held a dark liquid of some kind. "Burbeast tenderloins...and the wine is eastern, from Merryay," said the servant. He looked bored. "Lord Pelspin will return forthwith." With that said, he was out the door and gone. |
"Wine from Merryay", thought Baldar. "Our host has exquisite taste."
Baldar stood up and walked over to the food-laden table. He poured himself a glass of the full-bodied wine and breathed in the sweet aroma. This was very good wine. After carefully choosing two pieces of the famous tenderloins, one piece of cheese and one piece of fruit, Baldar returned to his seat next to the fire. "Is anyone else going to eat?", said Baldar. "Lord Pelspin's servants have left and the food doesn't appear as if it will serve itself." He looked around the room at the rest of the adventurers and settled his gaze upon the paladin. "Eat something sir paladin, I'm sure that your muscular frame requires quite a bit of fuel." As Baldar sat back in his seat to wait for the paladin's reply, he attempted to cast a detect magic spell to see if there were any objects of interest to a mage within the room. |
After Baldar finished talking, Mavirr jumped out of his chair and headed over to the plate of food.
"Now this is what I was waiting for! Not as juicy-looking as a fine, thick steak, but these Burbeasts sure know how to keep their meat." Mavirr licked his lips and picked up a handful of the slices of meat. He ate them quickly, and picked up an apple. After Mavirr polished it, he put it in one of his pockets. "I sure hope you friends don't mind me taking some food along for the road. I don't like beginning an adventure with empty pockets," said Mavirr as he grinned at his fellow adventurers. He then poured himself a very small amount of the wine and walked back to his chair. Before he sat down, Mavirr turned to his new friends and said: "It's too bad no one here has a recorder for me to play. It would help pass the time by while we wait for this Lord to come back. Oh, what wonderous songs I can play on that fine instrument!" Mavirr sat down in his chair, but did not take a sip of the wine. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded his head as if he was playing a song for himself. |
The Paladin, who had been silently observing the people present, forming initial impressions and determining areas of concern, finally decided to speak up:
“Gentlemen, sorry for not having introduced myself earlier, I was a little preoccupied. The name is Benton Gale. You may recognize the last name because my father is a high ranking Cleric in the city, and my brother is also a Cleric rapidly rising in the religious order.” “I am here because my presence was requested. Lord Pepsin’s station in the city has allowed him to interact with my father on numerous occasions. While I wouldn’t call them friends, they have some common interests, especially with regards to the Prytian religious symbols and restoring our lost history. I’m not as religious as my father or brother, but I am very interested in reclaiming our lost glory. When Lord Pepsin asked my brother and me to join his quest, I offered my services immediately." “Now if you don’t mind, would someone pass that meat this way.” |
Soriun took a seat at the table. Before helping himself to the bounty laid out before him, he reached under his shirt and removed his holy symbol of Clangadin; a sliver dwarven war axe on a simple braided rope. Clasping it tightly, he prayed to his god, "Clangadin, Defeater of Darkness, Gatherer of the Dwarven Clans, please smile on the feast set before your humble servant. I pledge to use the strength that this food and drink will give me to carry out your will, even in these foreign lands."
The dwarf immediately reached for the wine, and laughed. "While I prefer a nice dwarven mead, wine will do!" He filled his goblet and took a healthy pull from it. He turned to the paladin. "It's nice to see a holy warrior amongst our troop, but I do not recognize the symbol of your god. What god do you follow, paladin?" |
Puli decided not to sit and remained standing, but edged closer towards the others from the corner he had been in. He took a few pieces of fruit and chomped them in a methodical, gradual manner, then sipped some of the wine but clearly found it not to his liking and placed it back on the table. Puli broke his silence to enter one of his customary lectures:
"Hmph, wine and mead... and all this meat and cheese slavishly prepared. It is totally unnecesary. Water, fruit and a few token vegtables is more than enough for anyone." After he had satisfied his hunger, if not his thirst, Puli again sloped back to his isolated position and continued to listen to the conversation whilst observing the members. Nothing worthy of comment had passed yet and he would, as always, remain silent until such an event did. |
The dwarf turned to look into the corner into which the monk had faded. "More for us then!" he shouted, and grabbed another slab of meat.
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Benton laughs at the Dwarf's comment to the monk, then turns to the Dwarf and says, "I respectfully follow Elyash, the ancient Javadan god of prosperity. He is the central figure in Prytian religion and the teachings of the order have been pounded in my head from my early years. My father had hoped that My two brother's and I would follow his lead and become powerful Clerics, but I decided to take a different path."
Turning to Puli, "Please, honorable Monk, take no offense at my laughter. It was more from the comment itself rather than at your expense." |
Once more the heavy wooden door creaked open, but instead of another reticent servant, in walked the lord of the house. A few steps behind him walked a rather dirty-looking individual, obviously a military man by his bearing and the inherently wary look of his eyes.
Lord Pelspin was a sizable man, barrel-chested with a ring of graying hair encircling his otherwise bald head. He strode into the room with the confidence of a nobleman on his own ground; the inset lace and finery of his tunic sparkled in the flickering light from the fireplace. His gaze was sharp as he scowled about the small room, taking stock of the men at hand. He nodded a gruff greeting to Benton Gale, the paladin. “As you may have ascertained, we’ve had some trouble. It seems a scroll map – a copy of the original which is still held in the possession of Puli there – has been stolen from these very premises. Frankly, I cannot understand how anyone would have known of this in such a short time, unless someone has tracked Puli here for that very purpose. But what’s done is done. By necessity, the timetable of this quest must be altered. You will leave in the morning.” The lord paused for a moment, looking into the faces of the five men as if seeking an answer to an unasked question. He noted that wizard Baldar seemed to be concentrating on something else. |
Soriun took one last pull from his wineglass, then stood up. "In that case, gentlemen, I suggest we retire for the night. We'll need to be off early in the morning."
He turned to Benton. "We should talk more of this in the morning, sir. Elyash is indeed a powerful god. How many holy regiments follow your diety?" he asked as he walked toward the door. "Where should we bed down, my lord?" he asked Lord Pelspin. "Have our belongings already found their way there?" |
"Lord Pepsin, is the Ranger aware of the timetable change, or would you like me to attempt find him?
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Mavirr listened to everything that transpired in the room while his eyes were closed. Once Benton finished talking, Mavirr got up and put down his wine glass.
"Well then! Now we know what must be done, and I can't wait to go adventuring with you friends. I'm sure there will be story-worthy experiences involving intrigue, theft, and the slaying of monsters." Mavirr pondered this for a moment, and said the next line to himself more than to the occupants of the room: "If we don't have some great adventures, I can at least tell the story of the religious group of heroes that met in a bald Lord's room and ate some fine burbeast tenderloins..." Mavirr snapped out of his train of thought, and continued to speak to the room. "I hold the same question as Mr. Keystone, however. Where should we sleep? If we must leave in the morning, I'd like to get to bed as soon as I can!" Mavirr stood in front of his chair, and looked in the direction of Lord Pelspin. |
The wizard Baldar let the room fade away as he focused in on any magical energies that were in the room. There. Something of note nearby, but exactly what and where he did not know.
His concentration wavered a bit at the exclamations of the loud bard and the much-too-jolly dwarf. He redoubled his efforts to get a read on the aura that he sensed was present nearby. Almost......Almost......Hmmmm.....I think it is coming from...... Upon the gaze of Lord Pelpsin, Baldar's focus slipped once again. The wizard scowled as the eyes of the two men met; the spell was lost completely. "Lord Pelspin", said Baldar, "Will the recovery of this scroll-map be an additional task in our current quest? Also, you seem surprised that its whereabouts were discovered so quickly." Baldar looked directly at the wary military man that accompanied the nobleman. "Do you completly trust everyone in your employ?" |
Given the prompt responses of those in the room, Lord Pelspin grinned in spite of himself.
“My friends, sleeping quarters will be provided shortly, as well as any equipment and supplies you might need. Recovering the copy of the scroll-map is irrelevant. It only bodes ill because it means that others have the same information at hand that Puli has on the original scroll, and which he brought to me and which thereby prompted this quest. Whoever has stolen it in all likelihood will pursue the quest themselves, if they know what they have.” The nobleman sighed heavily, the sound of a massive bellows releasing air. “We are seeking artifacts of great power, great import. If found, they must not fall into the hands of the wicked. Puli’s scroll map points to the last known retreat of the Candle Mage of Javada.” The last words were said with an almost reverent tone, and then the lord fell silent. |
"Please, my lord, tell us more of these artifacts, and the Candle Mage. As you may have surmised," he chuckled, "I am not from your land, and so am at a disadvantage when it comes to your lore. It might help me a bit to know what I am looking for before I set out to find it!" The dwarf chuckled again.
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"Yes, give us as much information as you can spare. And if we are now in a race to obtain the Candle Mage then we should consider leaving immediately. I would hate for a powerful historical relic to fall into the evil hands."
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The dwarf chuckled, with a sound reminiscent of a hyena on helium, or a dying cow.
Errr...sorry. *shrug* |
Lord Pelspin walked to the table and picked a small plum up from the platter. He observed it for a moment, and then popped it into his mouth, chewed it deliberately as he composed his thoughts, and then swallowed. He lowered his eyes to meet those of the merry dwarf.
“The Candle Mage was a wizard of great power who flourished in the high period of the ancient Javadan Empire. His was a unique craft, unlike any other recorded use of magic. Dusty old texts in the library of our royal city, Kerryana, describe some of his mighty spells, and bits and pieces of related clues. Obviously, candles had a principal role in his art, and it is surmised that many of these remain, though their location has been an unanswered question for ages, just like the eventual fate of the mage himself.” “We Prytians are descendants of Javada, though the bloodline has a long and circuitous route. Our nearer ancestors were the people of Britau, who were scattered when their kingdom was consumed in a vast war with Rhylla, which ultimately ended in a magical conflagration. The haunted ruins of Britau are known mainly as Wootmerry throughout the world.” Lord Pelspin looked around the room as he continued. “The scroll in Puli’s possession suggests that the Candle Mage escaped the internal strife that doomed Javada, and re-emerged in Britau. Seeking out what remains of his legacy, as well as recovering any extant candles, is the purpose of your quest.” “Someone has stolen a copy of this material, and I am led to believe that they realize its import. I shudder to think what might occur if any such objects of power fell into the wrong hands.” He looked again to the dwarf. “Prytians value our ancestry…these are more than mere relics to me, and to this realm, and to the royal family. Retrieve them, and learn what else you can, and you will be well rewarded by all of us.” |
Soriun's face grew serious. "My reasons for joining this quest are my own, but it is a quest that I cannot refuse. I will do my part to help the Prytians recover what is rightly theirs, and punish those who would seek to deny you your heritage. I swear by the axe of Clangadin that I will not fail in my task." With that the dwarf pulled his battle axe from it's sheath across his back, knelt down before Lord Pelspin and put his forhead to the blade, muttering a string of prayers to his god. When finished, he reslung his axe, stood up and smiled. "Now, about that bed..."
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Mavirr once again sat down in his chair, and looked back and forth at the various people in the room.
"Given my knowings of local history and culture, even I haven't heard of this Candle Mage before. His magic must be important if we're going on a scavenger hunt for it, and thieves are, at this moment, narrowing in on it." He stood up out of his chair and continued talking: "I have one question, however. Do you think these thieves knew about the scroll and the Candle Mage prior to stealing the copy? Or do you think this was just some coincidence? Maybe a thief was looking for something to steal, and took this scroll as his prey?" Mavirr walked around his chair once, and continued to look back and forth at everyone in the room. "As much as I would like to go out at this moment and find the Mage's history, magic, and candles... I think it would be best if we slept for at least a few hours before we get started." Mavirr grinned at Lord Pelspin and Soriun Keystone. "So, where are these beds for us to sleep on? My mind, mouth, and matter need some rest." Mavirr once again grinned, but this time to every single person in the room. |
"I suppose you want to see the scroll then..."
Puli took his rucksack off his shoulders and unbuckled it, removing a small rolled up parchment that had clearly seen better days, not much larger than a tablemat. This he unfurled and placed on the table in front of everyone. "I acquired it on my travels in a tavern just north of Boltath from a needy fellow in exchange for some bandages and a few slices of bread. Well, not necesarily in exchange, I was going to give the man what he asked for regardless, but imparted the scroll upon me as a parting gift. He said he was a collector of various artefacts and trinkets, but had decided to retire and had no use for this map any longer. I thought little better of it until happening across this quaint village and decided to have it examined by someone who may be able to inform me as to its usefulness. The expert I approached was the very Lord Pelspin before us now. Apparently it has significane for the Prytians, but I am not terribley concerned with that. After all, what is the petty history of a land many miles away from mine?" As if suddenly realising he had been talking for a significant amount of time, Puli abrubtly halted and waited for others to continue the discussion. He however did not retreat to the corner as before, this time standing near the map. Almost guarding it is from as yet untrusted individuals. He may not openly claim so, but his body language shows that Puli is very much attached to the scroll, for whatever reason. |
The Candle Mage and his relics. Baldar was very impressed. This was truly a quest of great significance. As a mage and a student of history, he had heard of this great wizard of legend, but had relegated many of the old stories as myth. The knowledge and power that could be gleaned from such ancient artifacts was nearly beyond comprehension. Baldar could not let any of the Candle Mages's secrets fall into the hands of any, other than Prytian wizards
"I, too, pledge my services to you Lord Pelspin and will do everything in my power to make this quest a successful one." |
Benton did not know what item he was tasked with finding until this very moment, but knowing Lord Pepsin, he relized the artifact would be of significant importance even before the explaination came. After hearing the name, and remembering the history taught to him by his father, Benton began to worry over the stolen scroll. This powerful object was now being sought by another group, and to Benton's Paladin way of thinking, obviously an unscrupulous one at that.
Prytian's are known for their love of their ancestors and the ancestors history, and as a Paladin, Benton added the love of returning that glory to his city, and the thought of completing this quest truly inspired the adventurer in him. Benton was pleased to see the others quickly buy in to the importance of this job before them. Having been on enough of these adventures, Benton knew that the groups dedication to the task was paramount for success and in this case where the group would be racing against an unknown adversary it may prove even more vital. Listening to the other's comments and their pledges of dedication, a smile began to form on the big man's face...until Puli stated... "Apparently it has significane for the Prytians, but I am not terribley concerned with that. After all, what is the petty history of a land many miles away from mine?" ...this quickly wiped the smile away. Benton's passion and heritage, caused his face to redden, teeth to clinch and eyes to narrow into a scathing glare. He stood and said, "I realize that Monks typically only care about making the present a better place for all, but to ignore history is folly. In this case especially. Lord Pepsin has already stated that a war with Rhylla distroyed the Britau where the Candle Mage flourished, and Rhylla would have no quams about using such an item to further expained their area of influence. If it's peace you want, you better hope the Rhyllians or some other historically aggressive race doesn't locate the Candle Mage first and find a way to exploit it's powers for their own gain." With that Benton sat down. As he cooled off he realized he may have been a little harsh with the old Monk, and in fact, he felt a little embarassed at his outburst. Benton knew the Monk probably cared more about the "petty history of a land many miles away from mine?" than he let on. In fact, Puli probably cared significantly about finding this item if only to preserve the peace...else he wouldn't have approached Lord Pepsin with the map. Benton then resolved to appologize to Puli as soon as he could speak with him in private. |
Everyone is doing well, but Breeze's post above is an outstanding example of free-form narrative RPG writing. Great job!
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Lord Pelspin nodded with satisfaction at the various gestures of support. He then directed his attention to Mavirr.
"We've never had a problem with thievery that I'm aware of, Mavirr. We will conduct an investigation, of course, but I firmly believe that someone knew what the scroll had upon it, and targeted it for that reason." The nobleman moved toward the doorway as if to leave, then turned back for a few more brief remarks. "My servants will see to your sleeping quarters. We have two rooms for the five of you to share, but how you wish to split them up is for you to decide." He looked sideways at the dwarf, and almost chuckled. "I trust that you have most of what you need already, but if you require anything else - be it equipment, weaponry, or what have you, I will do what I can to acquire it before your departure in the morning. Speak with Vash here about it. I must also see to the sixth member of the quest, who will be an important guide into what was once Britau. Good night, gentlemen." * * * * * At this point you should do the following: > Discuss equipment and supply needs IC (in character) with Vasheliave, OR simply make a list of what you wish to bring on the quest and PM it to me. I will give you ample leeway here, but don't get too out of hand (i.e., no "Holy Hand Grenades of Antioch"). ;) > Discuss sleeping arrangements IC with your fellow adventurers, OR just await the next morning. You'll need to pick which spells to prepare for the morrow (PM me if you need that explained further). |
"Dwarves snore. Who wants to share a bed?"
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Benton gets up from his seat, glaces over at Puli to see if any annomosity exists following his ridiculing statement, but as is typical of a Monk, there are no signs of emotion either way.
He walks over to Vasheliave and says, "I'll take the same equipment you provided me on our last quest." Then Benton moves toward Puli's corner, hoping that the other group members would pair off quickly, allowing him to get the apology out of the way, in private, before the journey begins. |
Those Cranstonians are kicking our collective arses!
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Benton, realizing his hope that the party would retire quickly, allowing him to apologize to Puli wasn't going to happen, resigned himself to trying again later.
"Good Soriun, I've slept in mud puddles with bugs the size of small birds chewing on my flesh, your snoring will not affect my rest." "Gentlemen, unless your heart is set on looking at each other for the rest of the night, I suggest you retire for the evening. Trust me, you'll have ample oportunity to look at and talk to each other when we are in the wilderness. Unless I miss my guess - it won't take long before you'll wish to see anything other than the people currently around you. In additon, this will be your last chance for quite a while to sleep in a comfortable bed. The ground where we are headed won't be nearly as accomodating." With that - Benton, knowing the way to the bedrooms headed for the door. "Come Dwarf, let us rest while we may." |
Coug,
I have a question regarding skills: If the skill is one that is intuitive or a something that is done naturally, will we have to state - "I am going to attempt to determine which direction we should go (intuit direction)" or "I am going to use my sensative hearing to see if I can hear anything (listen)" or Is it something you'll PM us and say: - "your listening skill has heard something unusual to the right" or "You intuition is telling you to take the right fork" |
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Baldar smiled a bit at Benton's comments regarding his past outdoor sleeping accomodations. In past adventures, he too, had slept in less than optimal conditions. The smile quickly faded when he realized the choice he had to make regarding sleeping quarters; a snoring dwarf or a chatty bard. Not an easy decision.
"Sir paladin, Dwarf, I will share a room with the two of you." With that said, he followed the Benton and Soriun to the door. |
I'm still in this, I'm just waiting for a PM answer from Coug...
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Divied up as they were, Baldar, Soriun, and the paladin made their way to their room, leaving Mavirr the bard with Puli, the old Kir monk. All of the men found their accomodations simple but comfortable.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Interact as you wish, or post that your character is asleep. We will then proceed to the following morning. |
Soriun sleeps. Loudly.
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Mavirr looked around his sleeping arrangements. "Well, Puli, looks like it's just me and you tonight! I sure hope you aren't loud loud in your sleep. You look like the type that is." He snickered at Puli and then walked over to his bed. After he fluffed one of his pillows, Mavirr sat down on his bed and looked at Puli.
"You must tell me of your adventures one day. A monk like yourself has to have some interesting stories to share! I'll play my recorder and trumpet in exchange for some of your stories, what do ya say?" Mavirr stared at the monk for a bit, then turned his attention elsewhere. He placed a tome called 'Heroic Adventures in Ancient Britau' on his bed-side table, and slowly took a rapier out from the inside of his right pant leg. Mavirr then put the rapier on the floor beside him, and rolled up his sleeves. He unstrapped a long, sharp-looking blade from each forearm, and placed those on the opposite side of the floor where the rapier was. "Tell me, Puli, do you believe in using bladed weapons, or do you believe in bludgeoning people with mallets? Or do you believe that weapon use does not hold a place in this world? I've travelled with one other monk before, and he didn't believe in using weapons. He even tried getting us to throw away ours! He wasn't bad with his fists, though." Mavirr grinned at Puli and went back to getting ready for bed. He fished some lock picks out of his pockets, and placed them in a drawer in his bed-side table. "I'm all ready to get my rest. We should continue our talk tomorrow morning, on our journey to pick up that ranger. Good night!" Mavirr laid his head down on his pillow and closed his eyes. He must have been tired, since he fell asleep almost instantaneously. |
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Benton looks and the dwarf, and a smirk comes across his face. He then looks at Baldur, rolls his eyes and nearly laughs out loud. Then he lays back, and pretends to fall asleep immediately. However, his mind is racing over the significance of the lost scroll, and the numerous questions that it poses: - What dangers lay ahead, and how worse will they be with another party following the same path. - Who actually stoll the scroll and what sort of skills do they posess. - Will we be forced to fight the other party regardless of how quicky we move. - What of my companions, will they take a stand against the other party when the time comes. - We really need to be first down the trail, a group of orcs can be difficult to defeat, but one who just lost a battle will be more ready for the second group following the path. - How respectful will the other party members be of innocent bystandards in the wrong place at the wrong time? - ... After what seemed like a million concerns and question rolling through the paladin's mind. He really did drift off to sleep. |
Benton awoke early in morning. In fact, so early it was still dark outside. He took a moment to try and determine his situation. Though he had slept in this very room several times, it wasn’t his normal surroundings and it always took him some time to orient himself. This time it was the dwarf’s snoring that reminded Benton of the task he would undertake in just a few short hours.
After much though, Benton decided if he remained in bed he would only toss and turn eventually disturbing Baldur and Soriun. He quietly got out of bed, dressed and walked out into the great hall to await the arrival of his equipment, the rising of his party mates, and the directions from Lord Pepsin on where the Ranger will be waiting. |
The dark, pre-dawn sky had mere hints of purple in it when the servants of Lord Pelspin rose and began their daily routine. Before the sun had broken above the horizon, most everything had been prepared and packed for the quest, and the five adventurers had been roused from their slumber. Benton, the familiar paladin, was up first on his own, but the others were gently awakened and bade prepare to leave at the lord’s request.
Vasheliave was waiting upon them in the entryway, if possible looking even scruffier than he had the night before. As the others shuffled in, he spoke in low tones to the paladin. “I’ve spent much of the night seeking some sign of how the copied scroll might have been taken. As you know, this manor house is well-positioned, and entry must come via the main doors at the front and back, or through the servants’ entrance on the eastern side. A trusted servant sleeps – lightly, I might add – close by the servants’ door, and both the front and back entrances are routinely locked and barred at night. Two guards rotate patrols of the grounds, and reported nothing untoward. I would be very much surprised if illicit entry was gained at night.” “Lord Pelspin is not one to treat such a scroll lightly; indeed, he is one to treat it with excessive caution and care, and thus for him to misplace it or otherwise lose the copy is also highly unlikely. As you know, he had the copy made from the original scroll held by the monk. The man who copied it is a scholar here in town…a long-time acquaintance of Lord Pelspin. I know of him only by his reputation - which is good, I might add - but he has been described to me as ‘unusual’ in his mannerisms…” The captain hesitated, still pondering the question in his mind. “There are two possibilities that I can see at this point, although admittedly it is a leap to do even this. One, the scholar performed some manner of fast handiwork before he left. Lord Pelspin professes that once he saw the quality of the copy he did not keep a close eye on things as the scroll was allegedly put in its protective tube, and the tube was found empty. Still, that doesn't set quite right. The second possibility, and the one that I fear is closest to the truth at this point, is that magic was involved.” |
At the sound of Vasheliave’s pronouncement “…that magic was involved.” Benton began to grit his teeth. He had not considered the possibility that a mage, or a bard skilled in wizardry might be the culprit of the theft. He simply assumed a breakdown in security, even a small one allowed a skilled thief to slip into the grounds and take the scroll.
Benton, smirks a little and says to Vasheliave, “Thank you friend for the update. This news, while unwelcome to my ears, may prove invaluable on my journey.” Benton began running this news through his head, trying to determine what differences this might make. Since, we are pursuing the Candle Mage it only makes since that a mage would be after it. It also stands to reason that any adventuring party would have at least 1 mage present - We do. Clearly the caster of the spell that stole the scroll had to be aware of it’s presence. Probably the scribe’s peculiarity caused his tongue to wag a bit to much, and to the wrong people. Benton then mumbles to himself “What level of magic would be needed to perform a spell that causes a scroll to disappear from its protective tube and reappear in the caster’s hand? I’ll have to ask Baldur.” Then he beings to think – hopefully Baldur’s skills match his opinion of his skills, because surely they will be put to the test before this journey is over. |
Benton scratches his head, and chuckles as he realizes the party has been together less than 24 hours, and yet he has 2 conversations that need to take place - an apology to Puli and a question regarding wizardry for Baldur. Hopefully, one of the two will rise soon.
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Soriun sat down in a chair, running over the posibilities in his mind. Wizard magic? It was likely. Sneaky wizards were stealing things all of the time. He knew that if a wizard were thirsty enough for power, he would kill his own family.
He turned to Vasheliave. "Who are the most likely suspects? Who would stand to gain the most from this theft?" |
Benton looks at Soriun, "Ah, I see the dwarf uses his size and hearing to evesdrop well. That may come in handy, but regardless, it's an interesting question."
"Vasheliave, do you have a guess as to whom might have had knowledge of the scroll and enough interest to steal the item?" Then Benton turns back to Soriun, "This question might be best posed to Lord Pepsin. He may have a better understanding of people with means to organize a quest, that may have interest in the Candle Mage." |
Looking momentarily askance at the dwarf, Vasheliave directed his reply to Benton. "I know not. The Rhyllans are always potential villains, as you must realize. The cursed Cranstonians and Saturnians are infamous meddlers in the magical arts. But knowledge of this Candle Mage? It could be anyone with an awareness of ancient Javadan history. Or that of Britau."
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"Unfortunately, that's what I thought you were going to say. How about this Ranger we'll be meeting. What do you know of him?"
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I hope the rest of our party doesn't plan to sleep this late the rest of our adventure. :rolleyes:
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Mavirr fidgeted while these conversations were going on. Not only was he disappointed that Puli did not share any stories when they awoke, but he was also now hungry. Mavirr turned to the heroes that were present, and spoke:
"So a wizard could have done this, and most likely did. Or it could have been a wizard working with someone else. Don't you wizards have some sort of invisibility spells?" Mavirr turned towards Baldar as he asked this question, then turned back to look at the rest of the heroes. "Whatever the case may be, friends, I think we should start moving towards our destination. We have to pick up that ranger sometime soon, don't we? Who knows if he'll be ready to go, or if we'll have to wait for him to get ready. Some of these rangers need quite a bit of time to get ready. Well, at least one ranger I've met. He could have been one-of-a-kind, but that's not a sure thing." Mavirr pondered whether it's feasible for all rangers to take so long to get ready for a trip, or if he was just unlucky to meet the one ranger that does. He snapped out of a trance-like state after a few seconds, and continued to talk: "Is there any more information that we need, Vash? And will you be accompanying us on our trip to pick up that ranger? What's his name anyway? Or have you told us and I forgot... no, that's not likely. I'd like to know his name so we at least know who we're looking for, if you don't mind. And if there's no more to be said, let's go off on our journey!" Mavirr took the apple he got from last night's plate out of his pocket, and ate it quickly. He stood, facing the other heroes and Vash, and waited for a response. |
Soriun harumphed. "If you think Rangers take a long time to get ready, Mavirr, take a dwarven lass for a wife. She'll need at least a day to comb out her beard, and then there is the selection of the clothes, and her shoes. You need more than a human lifespan to go anywhere!"
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Guys,
I was all prepared to roll on this last night, but St. Louis just got hammered for hours by thunderstorms, and our power got zotted three times. Hopefully I can get to it tonight. Please be ready to go tomorrow. Thanks for your patience. Coug |
Vasheliave snorted loudly at the questions regarding the ranger, casting a look at the paladin, then to the bard, and then finally down at the dwarf. He suddenly grinned.
“You’ve been the foreigner amongst us thusfar, Soriun the dwarf. Excepting the Kir monk, of course…he’s an easterner, and sticks out like a burbeast on its hindquarters. But the quest will get stranger still once you meet up with Kevan Firestorm. He’s a Wemic, if you’re familiar with the breed. A good lad, but odd to look at, as far as it goes. I reckon I’m no beauty myself, but you’ll see what I mean once you’re in his company. You can trust him, though.” The captain paused to look around, surveying the status of the group. Puli was not present, and the wizard, Baldar, appeared to be dozing. “We’ll be on our way shortly,” he said gruffly. |
"I thought Monks were light sleepers that typically rose before the sun to say their daily morning prayers?"
"It would not surprise me to find Puli in a meditative state somewhere." |
Benton, hearing Vashelaive's pronouncement about the Wemic began to smirk. He realized his question about the Wemic was misunderstood, and he also began to realize that the others in the party may have never seen a Wemic, since they tend to stay out of populated areas, prefering to remain in the wilderness. Undoubtedly, this familiarity with the wilderness will be invaluable on our journey.
"Vasheliave, I'm aware of Wemic's and of their appearance. I've seen a few, though I've never had the opportunity to travel with one. I'm very much looking forward to this meeting, and especially the reactions of my mates." "My question about Kevan was a desire to gain insight into his personality. Typically, Wemics are introverted, viewing themselves as outsiders, and they can be a little surly because of this. I would hate to have a look or comment offend him before we even have the opportunity to introduce ourselves, if you get my meaning." |
Benton looks to the dwarf, "Have you ever seen a Wemic, or are you familiar with them?"
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I have a bunch of stuff coming up at University right now... I'll write a roleplay tomorrow or Friday... but if you don't see me often, this is why. Sorry.
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"No Benton, I have never seen a Wemic, but I am ready to, I think."
The dwarf stands up and grabs his equipment. "We should be off. Those who would join me on this quest, meet me out front. Those that would stay behind...keep sleeping." |
Benton exits right behind Soriun saying, "I agree. Let's be off to delay further would be a mistake."
Then mumbling he adds, "We shall see how ready you are to meet Kevan." |
With a curt nod Vasheliave moved to follow the dwarf. “Agreed, we must get along. I believe Puli is outside, perhaps already awaiting us at the stable. Hopefully Baldar will be with us shortly, though I’m hesitant to wake a slumbering wizard. I wouldn’t want a bubble of eldritch fire to burst out of his arse!”
The captain busted out laughing at his own remark, and continued to roar as he headed outside. The old Kir monk was indeed already waiting outside, apparently contemplating the finer philosophies of the various horses at the stable. Two young stable boys went silently about their work, finalizing their preparations. They seemed a bit embarrassed to be working in the company of such heroes, but they were almost done anyway. Soriun’s war pony stood off to the side, a diminutive but earnest looking creature. |
Sorry guys. Was unexpectedly out of town for several days. I will catch up on the thread and make the appropriate responses late this evening.
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You should quit gambling. It's only going to get worse. |
Mavirr quickly ran outside to meet up with the rest of the heroes.
"Friends, wait for me! I was pondering whether I ever met a wemic before." He stopped to catch his breath, and then continued to talk: "I have been on adventures with other heroes before, but I do not think I have ever shared stories with a wemic! This could be a great opportunity for me. I don't think they can be as quiet as I've heard. Puli is already quiet enough for the both of them!" Mavirr grinned at the heroes, and looked around at the horses. "I would prefer to have a horse that can carry its weight. One that is fast and noble. One that won't run away when things get rough. One that won't eat my food when I go up a tree to scout the land ahead." He frowned at the horses, and looked back at the heroes. "Whenever you guys are ready, I'm set to go!" |
Benton looks to Mavirr, smiles and says, "You'll have plenty of stories to tell about the Wemic, even if he's mute. Simply discribing him and explaining that he was in your party will probably earn you a free meal and all you can drink from the patrons."
Benton didn't hesitate to look around the stables. He walked directly to his steed, a beautiful black horse with a few patches of white on the nose. The horse, not nearly as big as some of the 19 hand War Horses, was still large for its breed, measuring almost 17.5 hands (or close to 180 cm). Benton, knew this horse, realized its surprising agility given the large size, and most of all respected its nerve. This was a horse Benton had riden many times, and if he had the facilities to house the beast and the money to purchase it, Lord Pepsin would not be its owner. Benton affectionately patted the horse on the head, and whispered in its ear, "Good to see you old friend. I have a bad feeling we will be severely tested this time." |
Impatient with the dallying, Vasheliave tugged at his horse’s reins, eliciting a series of frustrated whinnies from the animal. “Where’s the damn wizard?”
At long last, Baldar emerged from the building, striding at a leisurely pace as if unaware of (or oblivious to ) the impatience of the others. Not willing to wait any longer, Vasheliave growled something unintelligible under his breath, wheeled his horse, and moved out of the courtyard at a quick trot. |
Benton quickly mounts his horse, sympathizing with Vash's obvious annoyance he loudly states, "Finally!, all this waiting has become aggravating. I hope the wizard isn't counting on traveling at his pace from this point forward." :)
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Mavirr saw that the horses were finished being prepared, and so he jumped on one of the remaining horses.
"I sure hope this one is good. Why wouldn't it be? I doubt a Lord would keep a slow, lazy horse around!" He looked back at the heroes still not on their horses, and grinned. Mavirr then kicked the side of his horse and rode it once in a small circle before he pulled the reigns back. "Well, at least I know it'll respond to my commands." Mavirr sat on his horse impatiently, and continued to speak: "What are we waiting for? Let's go meet this ranger!" |
"Gentlemen, we need to discuss the marching order. I would recommend pairing up with Vasheliave and me in the front, Baldur and Puli in the middle, and Soriun and Mavirr it the back (Thinking to himself 'that could make for some interesting and entertaining conversations. It might also alert every foul creature in the relms of our location.')
"By the way Vasheliave, how far will you be accompanying us? Just until we join Kevan, or has the Lord given you the freedom to join the quest this time?" |
Vasheliave slowed his horse’s gate a bit and shifted in the saddle so as to address the paladin.
“You know better than that,” he said, and grinned wryly. “No, I’m afraid Lord Pelspin has other things in mind for me. The theft of his property has rattled him greatly. Plus I’ve got some things in mind myself…namely a good night’s sleep.” The captain chuckled lightly, then pointed to a distant cluster of scrub trees on the horizon. “See yonder grove of trees? We’ll head there for starters, and then shift our course for the rendezvous with the wemic. I’ll leave you in his hands at that point…err, well, you know what I mean.” The terrain was rather arid in this Prytian border province of Rekelzyan. The province bore another olden name, still whispered by some, which dated back to the era which followed the disastrous end of Britau. The Path of Ruin. The remnants of Britau’s citizenry had fled this way, and despite the passage of centuries it still bore the faded but bitter stain of defeat. Now the region was occupied by burbeast ranchers, a few scattered towns and villages, and the ever-present provincial patrols. The Skelitik Wastes and the Great Desert lay to the east. The ruins of Britau –Wootmerry – lay to the northeast. |
Soriun shifted in his saddle, and began to whistle a dwarven tune.
"Bard, will you tell us a story? I believe it would get us off to a fine start. Or, I could lead us all in prayer..." Soriun smirked at his companions. |
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Benton laughed at Vasheliave's comments (specifically the reference to the Wemic). "I figured Lord Pepsin would keep you busy. It's too bad, your experience and swordsmanship would come in handy this time." "Ah well, let us be off to meet with Kevan," Benton yells as he spurs his steed forward and heads toward the tree grove, hoping to distract the Dwarf from praying and the Bard from singing (because 99 Flagons of Ale on the Wall gets old quickly). |
Sensing the group’s need to press ahead, Vasheliave urged his horse to a quicker pace. They passed a small herd of burbeasts, still showing the telltale signs of their shearing earlier in the summer, milled about a small watering hole. A quick glance into the make-shift hut that stood nearby met the watchful eyes of the shepherd. You needn’t worry, Vasheliave thought, I’ve had my fill of burbeast meat…enough to last a lifetime.
The group held their tongues as they moved along, and soon enough they were nearing the grove. It sat on a slight rise in the ground, perhaps an acre or two of ragged-looking trees which all appeared to be grabbing for the sky with their limbs, seeking moisture which just wasn’t there. Vash always felt such trees looked like they’d been baked in a bread kiln. Though a slight wind blew in from behind them, he caught whiffs of pungent bark now and then. Leaves rasped together with a brittle sound. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Frankly, I'm becoming rather concerned about the future of this group. We've got two no shows (Puli and Baldar) and not much interplay devloping with the characters. We'll move onward and see if the wemic can liven things up... |
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Maybe we could merge the survivors of this group with the other one.
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I want to see Kevan do card tricks with out any hands. :D
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While he rode on his horse beside Soriun,at the back of the pack, Mavirr found it hard to keep his focus on the task at hand. He kept on looking around at the sky, the ground, and the other various scenery. A couple of times, he almost rode into Soriun. Mavirr kept quiet as the heroes travelled, which was quite unordinary for him. Now that they were coming up to the grove, Mavirr began to speak again.
"Even with adventures under my belt, I am still awe-struck by the beauty of some of the scenery in the areas neighbouring Prytia." Mavirr looked at the trees in the grove they arrived at, and smiled. "This reminds me of the time I was an inexperienced traveller, going on only my second quest." Mavirr stopped to look around if anyone was listening to him, and then continued to talk: "I was travelling with just three other adventurers: a wizard, a thief, and a fellow I wasn't quite sure of what he was. He performed magic, escaped from traps, slayed giant beasts, and could carry a tune with yours truly." Mavirr's face turned into a puzzled look, as he pondered all of those talents inside his head. "Anyway, I particularly remember this wizard because he rarely spoke. Much like our quiet Puli. Perhaps you know of him, Baldar? Come to think of it, this might be the first time I travel with a paladin. Isn't that something, Benton! I've come across many thieves and rogues, but not a single paladin. You'll have to excuse some of my tendencies as this journey moves along..." Mavirr turned his gaze from Benton to the back of his horse's neck, and once again continued to talk. "Where was I? Hmm. I don't quite remember. It had something to do with this grove, though. I remember travelling with a group of three others to this very place as we were passing through to get to Zanthany. I found myself a nice pile of leaves to sleep on, since the other adventurers of mine were becoming quite annoying. The wizard wouldn't talk, the thief went off somewhere before we had a chance to settle, and whats-his-name with all the skills went to find some entertainment." Mavirr gave his first signs of anger when he said this, as he pointed his eyebrows down diagonally. "Imagine looking for someone more entertaining than me! Never mind that I didn't have any stories to tell or instruments to play. Him and I could carry a tune like no other. With him gone, it was quite a boring night." Mavirr looked around at the heroes present, as he finished his story. "That's my first story shared with you fine heroes! I do hope I have something to add about this grove involving all of you. Now, let us go get this ranger." Mavirr stopped talking, and looked around at the scenery once again. |
Benton listened intently at Mavirr's story, not as interested in the content as he was in its presentation. A little scattered, maybe a focus issue. But Benton had to admit that from all signs Mavirr had been involved in numerous quests and someone that was chronically distracted undoubtedly would not still be with us. Mavirr, as with all bards, is a bit self-centered, meaning his focus probably improves when his life is on the line.
"Mavirr, I'm surprised you've not vetured out with a Paladin before. You've obviously been on numerous quests, hopefully some more entertaining than your last retelling. Anyway, Paladin's live to fullfill a duty, often signing up for every quest they can. Maybe you journied with one and simply mistook him for a fighter?" |
"Even a bard can tell a paladin from a figher, Benton," Soriun interjected. "Holy warriors have a certain...aura about them. No, what I think Mavirr's story tells us is that the type of quest he normally joins is the type that a paladin would avoid like the plague!"
The dwarf sat back in his saddle and was quiet for a moment. "Maybe that's why you and I are here, Benton. We're going to show our companions the way to quest reverently!" |
"I thought Mavirr's lack of interaction with Paladins might be an indiation of the company he keeps, but wasn't willing to speak it until I knew him better, but since you've let the cat out of the bag, I'll agree. Well met then good Soruin, we shall set an example."
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As they neared the grove, caution got the better of him and Vasheliave slowed his horse almost to a stop. Peering into the shadows created by the trees, he canted his head as if to listen. The facial expressions of first Puli and then Benton altered as they, too, caught the slight sounds of movement somewhere within the grove.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ FYI, I will be running Puli’s character for now. JAG will be replacing SplitPersonality1 as Baldar the wizard. |
Welcome aboard JAG.
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Benton draws his sword quietly, and turns to Vasheliave. In a tone barely above a whisper he asks, "Could this be Kevan, or are we too far from our destination spot to hope for such luck?"
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At Benton's signal, Soriun pulls his dwarves war axe from across his back, and holds up his hand for quiet. |
Hi, sorry again.. I'm going through interviews at school right now, but I'll try to post a roleplay tomorrow afternoon.
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Baldar smiled inwardly as he rode uncomfortably with the others. It appeared Vasheliave and the companions believed his feigning nonchalance. The truth was quite the contrary, as Baldar could barely contain his excitement at the journey. His loyalty to the Prytians notwithstanding, the Candle Mage would surely have left behind some manner of scrolls or tomes detailing his craft. The potential knowledge and power to be gleamed from his writings was enough to make Baldar rub his hands with glee. Surely he could have his pick of these books if he recovered the candles for Lord Pelspin...
That thought brought Baldar back to the present. "How will we succeed with such a motley crew?" he thought with a scowl. Surely the knight and dwarf would handle themselves well in a fight, but their holiness would preclude some useful practical tactics, like slitting an enemy's throat before he woke. The bard was the most troubling though. He had little use for their cheerful songs and his constant chatter would more than likely attract more enemies than he cared to think of. “And my dislike is not because of that damnable thief of a bard stealing my damnable ring!” Baldar boomed to himself, still shaking with rage at the thought of that theft now five seasons past. It was unclear how useful the Cross-Kir monk would be. Baldar’s Kashan upbringing gave him some knowledge of the fellow Easterner, and their reputation was impressive, but this would be his first direct dealing with one. Hopefully the ranger would prove himself to be useful… Baldar almost ran into Vasheliave’s horse, not having realized his coming to a halt until he was practically on top of him. He looked up and saw Benton draw his weapon, drawing a snort from Baldar. Surely they had found the ranger. Still, with age having taught him many lessons on caution, he almost absentmindedly slipped a hand into his robe, reaching for his pouch of fine sand. |
Having spent a few unobserved moments looking over the group he is to guide on this adventure, Kevan thinks to himself, 'So this is them. An eclectic bunch to say the least. Might as well get started.' The ranger could not help but notice the old man in the unassuming clothing seems to be staring directly in his direction. 'Interesting,' he thought. With that, Kevan takes a deep breath and steps into the clearing.
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Benton, who was waiting for a reply from Vash, gasped inspite of himself at the appearence of the beast. A huge half lion/ half man walked out of the trees and into the revealing sunlight.
With a deep sigh Benton sheathed his sword. Then he shook his head and cursed himself for not being prepared for the sight of this awesome creature, who was to be his traveling companion. Benton had seen Wemics on numerous occassions, but never this close and never when he was on guard for a possible ambush. Benton looked around to see the others expressions. |
WEMIC
OK forget it - I can't seem to get an image of a Wemic to stay up. Look it up for yourself. :rolleyes: |
Seeing some startled reactions on the parts of his travelling companions, Benton quickly dismounts from his horse and begins walking toward the Wemic, hoping to prevent any unfortunate incidents.
"Gentlemen, since Wemic's aren't common to this area, I'm going to assume this is our Ranger Kevan." thinking to himself 'I hope it's Kevan, if not I may have just made a fatal error approaching this beast without my sword drawn'. Benton reaches Kevan and extends a hand, "Pleased to meet you and I'm extremely glad to have you along on this journey." |
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