[b:2ibz165d]Admittance:[/b:2ibz165d] This thread will be a continuous story open to any and all comers, but it is preferable that you be no lower than 5th level (including ECL), and no higher than 15th (including ECL). This is to allow for a great range of roleplay options, add to the realism, but also prevent the complete outshining of any particular player character by another. In order to be admitted into the thread, you should private message me so that a proper entry scene can be designed. This prevents random cameos. I will be DM-ing this thread in its entirety.
[b:2ibz165d]Setting: [/b:2ibz165d] This game will take place primarily around the areas in and surrounding the Cormanthor Forest - the Dales, Myth Drannor, and very specifically Ashabenford within
Mistledale. The locations and non-player characters will be as close to Forgotten Realms canon as I can manage.
[b:2ibz165d]Race, Class, and Alignment:[/b:2ibz165d] While the game will focus on the struggles between a newly begun temple to Eilistraee within Ashabenford and the nearby Vhaerunite drow, all races and classes are allowed. Given the nature of the chronicle, it is requested that along with personal character development, all actions from non-drow in some fashion emphasize the struggle between the love, courage, and acceptance of the Eilistraean way and the ruthless, cunning, and deceptive practices of the Vhaerunites.
Likewise with class and alignment, try not to portray characters that will only lead to infighting among players. Characters who play off one another, or who help to define and develop one another through differences are perfectly acceptable. The story, as always, is the thing.
[b:2ibz165d]Style: [/b:2ibz165d] The intention is to have a primarily character driven story in which roleplay interaction is the focus. That being said, descriptive combat is a grand help in that aim.
The net result being a moderation of combat and roleplay scenes.
[b:2ibz165d]Description: [/b:2ibz165d] In the Spring season, she came, walking out of Tilver's Gap with nine attendant dark skinned initiates. Dark Lady Coloara Vrinn brough with her only the swords the devoted carried, the leathers about their person, rations for travel, and herbal medicines to offer the besieged town. Immediately, they were met at the Ford by the Riders of Mistledale and the High Councilor's small hired band of protection.
Talks were tense, and though the Dark Lady was polite, the nearby and nerve wracked townsfolk had enough hecklers to impede negotiations. Violence was averted, but the Dancing Maiden's faithful were not to enter the city. Undeterred, the Dark Lady requested permission to camp nearby. The High Councilor in a much questioned move decided to give this permission.
For a season now, the Eilistraean cleric Dark Lady Coloara Vrinn has worked upon the councilors of the town towards accepting an offer of aid against the House Jaelre drow invasions. While many of the farmers and townsfolk are willing to accept aid, almost as many distrust all of Drow heritage, and believe the offer to be a trap just waiting to be sprung.
Now summer is rolling in, and the merchanting season has tripled with the highwaters of spring subsiding to a regular and rapid River Ashaba. Barges head toward Battledale and Shadowdale loaded with produce, weapons and armor, trinkets, baubles, and - now, thanks to the House Jaelre raids - mercenary guards. The costs for all merchants are rising, either from procuring protection, or from covering lost goods, and the streets of this town are beginning to see the destitute ranks of former merchants now bereft of all coin, and wounded survivors unable to work their fields.
The temples of Chauntea, Tyr, and the small border presence of Eilistraean clergy have all offered succor and charity to the wounded and dispossessed, but the Drow raiders are becoming more ruthless. Small wagons traveling a scant five miles from town have been found completely annihilated - bodies stripped bare, supplies stolen, and wagons left to burn as a message that these woods no longer belong to the surface fey.
Will these new adventurers that arrive turn the tide of terrorism, murder, and theft? Can they open up the floodgates of acceptance revealing with the pure light of goodness that each person, regardless of race, must be judged on their own actions? Ignorance, hatred, greed, and fear all stand in their way.
The most deadly gallery of enemies any adventurers have ever known.
Interesting times indeed.
For reference and scene setting purposes, I offer the following:
[url=http://lh6.ggpht.com/_oJZfl3y8A9I/S-gjd ... G:2ibz165d]Ashabenford[/url:2ibz165d]
Map Key to that listing:
Ashabenford (Small Town, 1,869): Ashabenford is the largest town in Mistledale, the market center for its widespread farmers, and as generally pleasant a place as anyone could hope to visit. The House Jaelre drow of Cormanthor have begun a campaign of fast raids and skirmishing to weaken the folk of Ashabenford and distract them from the new drow strongholds rising in the Elven Court. The cottages, homes, and businesses along the east bank of the River Ashaba weren’t built for defense--and defense is what Ashabenford needs most now.
In part, that defense is being met by an influx of adventurers. Bard
and couriers of all sorts have been sent to the Inns and Taverns of
Cormyr, Sembia, Waterdeep, and Silverymoon, though no coin is offered in reward. A fair draw of curious adventurers provides defense from some raids, primarily consisting of those with vendetta in mind, and those who simply wished to see the Dalelands and the long sung of Elven Court in person.
The city councilors have tentatively considered approach by the Dark Lady Coloara Vrinn of the Eilistraean faith. This minor cleric of the faith has sent out her own call that the Eilistraean faithful can
begin a campaign of good faith with some of the most headstrong
surface dwellers of the realms, Dalesfolk.
The map of Ashabenford illustrates a typical Dalelands village.
Numbered Locations are described below.
1. White Hart Inn: Under the proprietorship of the retired adventurer Holfast Harpenshield, this inn serves all folk of good heart passing through Ashabenford, a male human. Holfast is especially fond of good adventurers and gladly shares information and advice with any who seek it. He’s also not above throwing a Sembian or Moonsea merchant out on the street if he decides he doesn’t like the visitor’s looks or manners. Lodgings cost 1 gold sovereign per night, and he won't take Sembian coin.
2.) Thorm’s Mill: Thorm Ubler, a male human, is a miserly man who gladly lines his pockets as the owner of the only mill in Mistledale. Heldo and Parvus, his two good-for-nothing sons, are the town braggarts and bullies, although they have somehow avoided being caught at anything serious enough to get themselves run out of town or worse.
3.) Kaulvaeras Stables: At one of the better stables in the Dalelands, Kaulvaeras Greymantle, a half-elven man of moon elf ancestry, maintains a fine selection of riding horses and ponies. He also trains and breeds warhorses, although he currently only has 2 light warhorses and 1 heavy warhorses for sale in his stable. He seldom has more than that in any given tenday, but procures new horses nearly as fast as he sells them.
4. Lhuin’s Fine Leathers: Lhando Lhuin, a male human, is an outstanding worker of leather. His goods are unusually inexpensive but well made, averaging about 10% less than the going rate in other towns.
5. The Velvet Veil: This small taproom and festhall is hardly worth
the appellation when compared to the perfumed dens of such large cities as Waterdeep or Suzail. The entertainers and servants here pick up news from all corners of the Dalelands from whoever happens to be passing through.
6. Temple of Tyr: Raised only three years ago, this large and impressive temple marks Ashabenford as a more important community than the traveler might expect. The High Priest Nerval Watchwill, a male human, distrusts adventurers, and he is currently spending his time and effort aiding the Riders in defending the town against the Cormanthor drow raids. It is known that he will not accept any Drow without magically viewing their belongings and personal character. No Drow, Half Drow, or worshipper of a Drow god may currently set foot into the Temple of Tyr.
7. The Ashabenford Arms: Older and more ostentatious than the White Hart, the Arms charges 1 gold and 6 silvers per night, but provides luxurious service by Dalelands standards. The owner and proprietor of the Arms - Erliss Quicksilverm, a male halfling, is rumored to have been a rogue in Waterdeep before inexplicably settling in Ashabenford. Noone has yet to substantiate these rumors.
8. Shrine to Chauntea: Now somewhat dwarfed by the newer and larger temple of Tyr, this small shrine is maintained by a priest named Jhanira Barasstan, a female human.
9. Arhlo’s Fine Flasks: A brewery and distillery of some local note and exceptional quality, this business is run by a quiet, elf-effacing man named Arhlo of Arabel, a male human.
10. Multhimmer the Merchant: Multhimmer, a male human, runs a general trading post, buying and selling almost anything. He occasionally deals in stolen goods, although he is careful not to traffic in goods stolen from locals.
11. Braunstar Wheelwright: The epitome of the stolid, thoughtful Dalesman with a tremendous store of common sense, Braun star, male human, makes and repairs all kinds of wagons and carts.
12. Jarwain’s Imports: Specializing in silks, spices, cottons, and lace imported from Cormyr, this small store is run by Jarwain, a male half-elf of moon elven ancestry, a handsome fellow with fiery eyes and a soft-spoken manner. Jarwain’s goods have steadily climbed in price of late, due to the unrest and disruption of trade in war-torn Cormyr.
13. Horsewater Pool: An open well serving all passersby, the Horsewater Pool is a local gathering place for neighborly gossip.
14. Haresk’s Pool: Local legends hold that a bandit captain of old hid a great treasure at the bottom of this pool. Every so often someone tries to dredge it up and finds nothing more interesting than muck and weeds.
15. House of the High Councilor: High Councilor of Mistledale Haresk Malorn owns a general store in the town and considerable lands nearby. He is no warrior or great lord, but he’s an honest and wise merchant who is well liked by folk in the town. Haresk’s house is the largest in Ashabenford, so the dale’s Council of Six uses it as a seat of government. Plans to build a separate council building or hall have gathered dust for years, since no one really wants to pay for an expensive public building.
16. Black Eagle Coster: Iletian Blackeagle, a male human, buys local grain, cheese, ale, and barrels of salted meat for sale in Hillsfar and Harrowdale.
17. Almaes the Alchemist: Almaes, a male gnome, more properly known as Almaestaddamir Auldcastle, produces and sells a variety of useful alchemical mixtures, including tanglefoot bags, sunrods, acid, antitoxin, and the occasional batch of smoke powder.
He cheerfully proposed to build a machine for flinging kegs of smoke powder into battle as a surprise for the next band of drow
troublemakers, but High Councilor Haresk politely declined.
18. Jhaer Brightsong’s House: A restless traveler, Jhaer Brightsong, a female moon elf, is very rarely at home. She is known as the best minstrel in Mistledale, but she spends her time wandering all the Dales, and some of the nearby lands as well. She delights in stories of old magic and doom averted, and sometimes aids adventurers who share their tales with her.
19. Noristuor the Mage: Renowned for his habitual sour manner, sharp tongue, and frightening appearance, the wizard Noristuor, a male tiefling, took up residence in Ashabenford to avoid stupid interruptions in his researches--which he explains loudly in profane
terms to anyone causing said interruptions. The folk of Ashabenford don’t like Noristuor, but he keeps to himself and on rare occasions consents to work magic for the town’s benefit.
20. Barracks of the Riders: This walled compound is the headquarters of the Riders of Mistledale. The Riders train Ashabenford’s militia in the courtyard and use the small keep house as the town jail.
There are 100 Riders stationed in Ashabenford, divided into five patrol bands of 20 each. At all times, two patrols travel in opposite directions about the city. One patrol is stationed at the Eilistraean encampment. One patrol acts as city watch and constabulary, leaving one patrol unit off. Each patrol is given off time for a period of two days each tenday, and as a patrol goes on its leave, all the other patrols rotate their duties - Tent City Watch, North Patrol, South Patrol, City Watch, and Leave.
Troublemakers are likely to be imprisoned here until the High Councilor decides what to do with them.
21. Arvien’s House: This is the home of Arvien Blackhair, a female human, a tin and pewtersmith with a reputation as the nosiest person in town. The townsfolk have suggested she might make a good Councilor.
22. This is the site of the proposed temple of Eilistrae. High
Councilor Haresk Malorn has yet to give a definite decision towards the proposition to Dark Lady Coloara Vrinn. She hopes to persuade the other councilors that her offer of aid is honest and well meaning. Until such time as that permission is finally granted or completely revoked an Eilistraean Tent city has been erected on this site. The Riders of Mistledale patrol here constantly, rotating guards once every 12 hours, so at any given time 10 soldiers are likely present.
[Campaign] - Dancing with Mistrust in Mistledale
Moderators: Shir'le E. Illios, Bhaern Quel
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
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- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
20th Day of Kythorn, The Time of Flowers
The air was filled with the scent of blooming, the sound of scuttling forest creatures, and the taste of crisp fresh air forgetting the chilly mornings of spring.
With eyes that still watered from the sight of the bright sun, the dark skinned woman with the slight but muscular build pushed her hair braid over her shoulder, and let the tears run freely, embracing the discomfort as the price of the glory found, the majesty realized, of surface life and even the slight acceptance these Dalelanders offered.
Armored in traveler's leathers - finely crafted and tooled with designs of black leaves intertwined on the boarders of well worn brown, yet otherwise similar to militia wear - she moved off the path and towards the White Hart Inn, its wooden banner with the ivory stag swaying in the newly born summer breeze.
At the doorway, she cried a hullo, delicate hand, calloused from swordwork and labor in service to strangers, cupped to her mouth to amplify a honeyed but humble voice.
A rough but kindly voice hullo'ed back, and the grizzled face of the retired adventurer Holfast Harpenshield, appeared in the doorway.
"Dark Lady Vrinn, its a pleasure to see you, and so bright," he grinned, "and early in the morning. Can I see to your lips a cup of my finest. The first is on the house, but the rest'll cost you dearly."
She smiled a sad wisp, and shook her head. "Not today, Holfast, my friend. Today I give to you my sword again, so that I make speak with the elders for another time. They still will not allow a dark one like myself across the river with blades on. Still, as long as I can see the camp from here, I know that they've permitted us this close, and count that a lasting victory, even if it progresses no further."
He returned her grin, and brushed away the troubles with a wave of his hand. "They permit the snakish Sembians to spend their coin, often enough. Before long they'll come to their senses. It isn't the skin that keeps evil in, but the soul. In any event, I'll keep your blade. What's the worst that can happen? I get a free sword of fine elven craftsmanship?"
They both laughed at that quip, she in fine elven tones that rung with the tinkling of wind chimes and the echoes of babbling brooks, and he in the bellowing way of soldiers in camp.
"You are a friend, Holfast. Retired or no. I'd wager that if I ever needed help you'd grant it. If all goes well, I'll take that drink when the ball of fire sets beneath the crown of the world. If it goes badly, see to my ladies, and know that Eilistraee loves all who can love, and would give love to those who would recieve it."
He bows his head, as if the last were a blessing, and sees her to the door to travel across the ford, unarmed and helpless, girded only in faith.
With a silent prayer to Tempus, Harpenshield stepped back in to prepare for the day's merchants.
With eyes that still watered from the sight of the bright sun, the dark skinned woman with the slight but muscular build pushed her hair braid over her shoulder, and let the tears run freely, embracing the discomfort as the price of the glory found, the majesty realized, of surface life and even the slight acceptance these Dalelanders offered.
Armored in traveler's leathers - finely crafted and tooled with designs of black leaves intertwined on the boarders of well worn brown, yet otherwise similar to militia wear - she moved off the path and towards the White Hart Inn, its wooden banner with the ivory stag swaying in the newly born summer breeze.
At the doorway, she cried a hullo, delicate hand, calloused from swordwork and labor in service to strangers, cupped to her mouth to amplify a honeyed but humble voice.
A rough but kindly voice hullo'ed back, and the grizzled face of the retired adventurer Holfast Harpenshield, appeared in the doorway.
"Dark Lady Vrinn, its a pleasure to see you, and so bright," he grinned, "and early in the morning. Can I see to your lips a cup of my finest. The first is on the house, but the rest'll cost you dearly."
She smiled a sad wisp, and shook her head. "Not today, Holfast, my friend. Today I give to you my sword again, so that I make speak with the elders for another time. They still will not allow a dark one like myself across the river with blades on. Still, as long as I can see the camp from here, I know that they've permitted us this close, and count that a lasting victory, even if it progresses no further."
He returned her grin, and brushed away the troubles with a wave of his hand. "They permit the snakish Sembians to spend their coin, often enough. Before long they'll come to their senses. It isn't the skin that keeps evil in, but the soul. In any event, I'll keep your blade. What's the worst that can happen? I get a free sword of fine elven craftsmanship?"
They both laughed at that quip, she in fine elven tones that rung with the tinkling of wind chimes and the echoes of babbling brooks, and he in the bellowing way of soldiers in camp.
"You are a friend, Holfast. Retired or no. I'd wager that if I ever needed help you'd grant it. If all goes well, I'll take that drink when the ball of fire sets beneath the crown of the world. If it goes badly, see to my ladies, and know that Eilistraee loves all who can love, and would give love to those who would recieve it."
He bows his head, as if the last were a blessing, and sees her to the door to travel across the ford, unarmed and helpless, girded only in faith.
With a silent prayer to Tempus, Harpenshield stepped back in to prepare for the day's merchants.
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Inriiaynrae Jaelre
- Lord||Lady
- Posts: 1444
- Joined: Thu Dec 31, 2009 7:30 am
- Location: Panama City, FL
- Contact:
Inrii kept quiet, kept to herself as she traveled the familier road. the soft breeze blew thru her knee-length silver hair. it felt cool upon her somber face.
had it been a year?
Inrii looked to the lizard on her shoulder. then back to the trail and sighed. the journey to the Vale had answered her questions, told her who and what she was. but now she wished she had never found it. she had been content, even happy during the trip. yeah, it had been rough and dangerous. she had even been kidnapped, nearly killed hundreds of times, but their had been someone who she had to share it with. someone she really and truly cared about.
and now he was gone.
she pulled her piwafwi tighter around her thin frame the village coming into view. she recognized it from one of her training sessions. looking around she pulled the black hood over her face to allow the shadows to cover her skin color. Last time here a group of Lolthites attacked and she managed to get away unnoticed. but with more people she doubt she would be so lucky this time. For Inrii wore a jet black spidersilk shirt and pants, knee-high black buckled boots, buckled gloves and a black piwafwi. and being that her clothing was all black, [i:3l93jtrl]some [/i:3l93jtrl]might would put the connection of her being Vhaeraunite and of House Jaelre. the ring on her left hand was proof, but no one but those of the house knew that was the house insignia.
her house often warred with the city. her, now discovered grandfather, Jezz lead in the fights against the city. Inrii had to be cautious.
She entered the town and made her way to the White Hart Inn. before opening the door she cast a quick disguise over herself to look less drow. tho at the moment she didnt care as much and her efforts showed. of course anyone with true seeing would see the magical glow around her.
"here we go Zarstra," she said reaching for the door. it opened from the inside.
had it been a year?
Inrii looked to the lizard on her shoulder. then back to the trail and sighed. the journey to the Vale had answered her questions, told her who and what she was. but now she wished she had never found it. she had been content, even happy during the trip. yeah, it had been rough and dangerous. she had even been kidnapped, nearly killed hundreds of times, but their had been someone who she had to share it with. someone she really and truly cared about.
and now he was gone.
she pulled her piwafwi tighter around her thin frame the village coming into view. she recognized it from one of her training sessions. looking around she pulled the black hood over her face to allow the shadows to cover her skin color. Last time here a group of Lolthites attacked and she managed to get away unnoticed. but with more people she doubt she would be so lucky this time. For Inrii wore a jet black spidersilk shirt and pants, knee-high black buckled boots, buckled gloves and a black piwafwi. and being that her clothing was all black, [i:3l93jtrl]some [/i:3l93jtrl]might would put the connection of her being Vhaeraunite and of House Jaelre. the ring on her left hand was proof, but no one but those of the house knew that was the house insignia.
her house often warred with the city. her, now discovered grandfather, Jezz lead in the fights against the city. Inrii had to be cautious.
She entered the town and made her way to the White Hart Inn. before opening the door she cast a quick disguise over herself to look less drow. tho at the moment she didnt care as much and her efforts showed. of course anyone with true seeing would see the magical glow around her.
"here we go Zarstra," she said reaching for the door. it opened from the inside.
Main character: Inriiaynrae
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
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- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
The White Hart Inn wasn't much to look at as far as inns and taverns of the realms were concerned, sitting as it did on the Western bank of the River Ashaba, and on the trail towards Tilver's Gap.
Sembia had the likes of the Cry Havoc, with its dueling arena and its posh courtly accommodations. Waterdeep, the City of Splendours, could number countless wondrous wayhouses - the Yawning Portal, the Silken Sylph, the House of Daggers, and the Faded Dwarf.
Yet, the White Hart Inn did have a certain sense of welcome, as the young drow, draped in illusionary dweomer, stepped into the first common area of the first floor.
The walls were local wood, brown and warm, often mismatched due to the wavy grain, but each plank had been planed to a perfect fit, proving that the crafters had either a love of their work or a love of the building itself. The center of the wide room was adorned with a large banner rug draped across the floor, upon which was woven a giant Ivory Stag. Seven tables, spaced unevenly, rested about the main body of the room, each capable of sitting about eight patrons with allowances for size.
To the left of the doorway some distance away, the bar stood, made of a deep red wood and presenting an imposing presence of its own. It was long, impossibly long, covering the distance from the wall in which the doorway stood, all the way to the one opposing it. In its middle, a formed and joined drop hatch bridged a small gap, perhaps 3 feet across, and appeared to be the polite way behind the bar.
This early in the day, the fireplaces - one behind the bar, and its twin across the way to the far right of the door - remained unlit, but the soot and dead coals from the night before still scented the room.
To the drow woman's eyes, the inside must be more comfortable than the out, because the windows to this high chamber were set up in the walls, and allowed beams of light to angle in to the tables, but they barely touched the perimeter area, which aside from the bar and the barback area, and the fireplaces, included the stairway that led up into the higher two floors of the building. Candles were lit to give an ember glow.
Her eyes wouldn't adjust to the dark in even so meager a light, but it did burn less than the outside, even to Inrii's surface adjusted eyes.
Two people stand inside. One is a young man, probably human by the looks of him, with dark hair and a growth of stubble about his chin. His gray eyes catch the light to give him an ever more rustic appearance, a sort of wild man of the woods look, and his cloak is dusted with road dirt and a few twigs about the lower draping. A pint glass firmly in hand, he takes a long draught before turning to gaze at Inrii, and then he turns to his plate of cheese, bread, and some cold cuts - apparently his breakfast.
Behind the bar, an older man with salt and pepper hair and a stocky frame stands drying pint glasses with a grey cotton rag. His eyes first narrow, and then seem to smile, making crease lines about his eyes, while his full beard hides what his mouth may be doing.
In a warm voice, obviously practiced at carrying across the room he speaks, "Good morning stranger. You'd be the first out of towner to grace my door today. How may we help you? I've got six open rooms and some cold traveler's fare for breaking fast, and ale to quench a thirst. If drinking otherwise is your need, I can recommend a festhall not far from here that will be open to your needs on about midday."
Sembia had the likes of the Cry Havoc, with its dueling arena and its posh courtly accommodations. Waterdeep, the City of Splendours, could number countless wondrous wayhouses - the Yawning Portal, the Silken Sylph, the House of Daggers, and the Faded Dwarf.
Yet, the White Hart Inn did have a certain sense of welcome, as the young drow, draped in illusionary dweomer, stepped into the first common area of the first floor.
The walls were local wood, brown and warm, often mismatched due to the wavy grain, but each plank had been planed to a perfect fit, proving that the crafters had either a love of their work or a love of the building itself. The center of the wide room was adorned with a large banner rug draped across the floor, upon which was woven a giant Ivory Stag. Seven tables, spaced unevenly, rested about the main body of the room, each capable of sitting about eight patrons with allowances for size.
To the left of the doorway some distance away, the bar stood, made of a deep red wood and presenting an imposing presence of its own. It was long, impossibly long, covering the distance from the wall in which the doorway stood, all the way to the one opposing it. In its middle, a formed and joined drop hatch bridged a small gap, perhaps 3 feet across, and appeared to be the polite way behind the bar.
This early in the day, the fireplaces - one behind the bar, and its twin across the way to the far right of the door - remained unlit, but the soot and dead coals from the night before still scented the room.
To the drow woman's eyes, the inside must be more comfortable than the out, because the windows to this high chamber were set up in the walls, and allowed beams of light to angle in to the tables, but they barely touched the perimeter area, which aside from the bar and the barback area, and the fireplaces, included the stairway that led up into the higher two floors of the building. Candles were lit to give an ember glow.
Her eyes wouldn't adjust to the dark in even so meager a light, but it did burn less than the outside, even to Inrii's surface adjusted eyes.
Two people stand inside. One is a young man, probably human by the looks of him, with dark hair and a growth of stubble about his chin. His gray eyes catch the light to give him an ever more rustic appearance, a sort of wild man of the woods look, and his cloak is dusted with road dirt and a few twigs about the lower draping. A pint glass firmly in hand, he takes a long draught before turning to gaze at Inrii, and then he turns to his plate of cheese, bread, and some cold cuts - apparently his breakfast.
Behind the bar, an older man with salt and pepper hair and a stocky frame stands drying pint glasses with a grey cotton rag. His eyes first narrow, and then seem to smile, making crease lines about his eyes, while his full beard hides what his mouth may be doing.
In a warm voice, obviously practiced at carrying across the room he speaks, "Good morning stranger. You'd be the first out of towner to grace my door today. How may we help you? I've got six open rooms and some cold traveler's fare for breaking fast, and ale to quench a thirst. If drinking otherwise is your need, I can recommend a festhall not far from here that will be open to your needs on about midday."
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Inriiaynrae Jaelre
- Lord||Lady
- Posts: 1444
- Joined: Thu Dec 31, 2009 7:30 am
- Location: Panama City, FL
- Contact:
Inrii looked around, glad for the brightness to be gone. and being that her house tended to conduct business and basically operate at night, she was glad for the slight reprieve.
the drowess started to speak her usual greeting then remembered to use the human greeting, "well meet." her feminine voice was clearly elven in every sense, melodious and soft. as she made her way twords the bar, her step was light, her movements fluid and graceful.
Inrii thought for a moment as she sat on a stool and looked to Zarstra. in her peripheral she studied the other man and the barkeep. trying to remember if it was the same man from those years ago. he was the right age. but humans had such short lives.
of the drink choises it would be easy. She never drank alcohol. for it dulled ones senses and made one vulnerable and weak. and Inrii would never would be so again she promised.
"no chance yall have milk?" she inquired as she looked over to the male eating what most called breakfast. "and possible venison?"
Zarstra shook her head, "[i:3h03nz2o][color=red:3h03nz2o]your not blending too well[/color:3h03nz2o][/i:3h03nz2o]," she spoke thru the telepathic link they shared. the drowess mostly ate venison and fish and sometimes wild vegetables from the forest. so her knowledge of local diets was limited. tho by the looks of her, some would wonder if she much at all.
"so whats the news for the area?" she asked while rolling her eyes to the comment from her lizard.
((i figured i'd use [color=red:3h03nz2o]red[/color:3h03nz2o]- mental communications; [color=blue:3h03nz2o]blue[/color:3h03nz2o]- signing; [color=green:3h03nz2o]green[/color:3h03nz2o]- own thoughts and thinking. it makes it easiier for me also.))
the drowess started to speak her usual greeting then remembered to use the human greeting, "well meet." her feminine voice was clearly elven in every sense, melodious and soft. as she made her way twords the bar, her step was light, her movements fluid and graceful.
Inrii thought for a moment as she sat on a stool and looked to Zarstra. in her peripheral she studied the other man and the barkeep. trying to remember if it was the same man from those years ago. he was the right age. but humans had such short lives.
of the drink choises it would be easy. She never drank alcohol. for it dulled ones senses and made one vulnerable and weak. and Inrii would never would be so again she promised.
"no chance yall have milk?" she inquired as she looked over to the male eating what most called breakfast. "and possible venison?"
Zarstra shook her head, "[i:3h03nz2o][color=red:3h03nz2o]your not blending too well[/color:3h03nz2o][/i:3h03nz2o]," she spoke thru the telepathic link they shared. the drowess mostly ate venison and fish and sometimes wild vegetables from the forest. so her knowledge of local diets was limited. tho by the looks of her, some would wonder if she much at all.
"so whats the news for the area?" she asked while rolling her eyes to the comment from her lizard.
((i figured i'd use [color=red:3h03nz2o]red[/color:3h03nz2o]- mental communications; [color=blue:3h03nz2o]blue[/color:3h03nz2o]- signing; [color=green:3h03nz2o]green[/color:3h03nz2o]- own thoughts and thinking. it makes it easiier for me also.))
Main character: Inriiaynrae
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
The wild man finished the last of his food, rushing the meal, and standing up with a hand gesture towards the one behind the bar. No more words than that, he was up and out the door, apparently driven by the presence of an outsider.
The bartender watched him go with a disapproving look that still conveyed mostly sadness.
Pushing the look from his face, the smile returns and he sets down the glass that he was drying with a light thud on the smooth mahogany surface.
"Milk, eh? I believe I can find that somewhere in back. A few of the local farmers send me some for baking and the like. And I do have some venison I took just yesterday evening. The venison will be about an hour in the cooking. I have some humble pie baking as we speak if you're interested."
He clears his throat.
"As to the local word, I can tell you that you should avoid traveling alone. There are dark elves, Drow we call them, that have been pouring out of Cormanthor forest and making slash and burn raids on the Dales. Ashabenford has taken a severe beating, despite having the Riders of Mistledale to defend us."
He hands make creaking fists for just a moment.
"Because of that, the Dark Maiden's own, the Eilistraeans, have come to ease suffering, and the locals are having a hard time telling well meaning dark skinned elves from murdering thieves. As if the Gods gave them only eyes and no sense. May Tempus save us all from such nonsense."
"The Council deliberates on this and on most other affairs for five days of every tenday. Adventurers, who can be a balm of the Gods or like flies to a carcass, are drawn by the misfortunes and the promise of gold on raiding drow's carcass or from the hands of fearful merchants alike. We've seen a flood of them come and go. Mostly they lash out, undisciplined, into the forests to find their deaths at the hands of the raiders. In the end, I think they are merely supplying the enemy with blades, coin, and supplies. Some mean well, and I pray their souls find easy rest on the good they intend."
"Do you intend to stay the evening? A gold soveriegn is the only cost, and morning and evening meals come with that coin. I won't take Sembian minted coins though, so I'd advise changing money at another place if that's from where you hail."
The bartender watched him go with a disapproving look that still conveyed mostly sadness.
Pushing the look from his face, the smile returns and he sets down the glass that he was drying with a light thud on the smooth mahogany surface.
"Milk, eh? I believe I can find that somewhere in back. A few of the local farmers send me some for baking and the like. And I do have some venison I took just yesterday evening. The venison will be about an hour in the cooking. I have some humble pie baking as we speak if you're interested."
He clears his throat.
"As to the local word, I can tell you that you should avoid traveling alone. There are dark elves, Drow we call them, that have been pouring out of Cormanthor forest and making slash and burn raids on the Dales. Ashabenford has taken a severe beating, despite having the Riders of Mistledale to defend us."
He hands make creaking fists for just a moment.
"Because of that, the Dark Maiden's own, the Eilistraeans, have come to ease suffering, and the locals are having a hard time telling well meaning dark skinned elves from murdering thieves. As if the Gods gave them only eyes and no sense. May Tempus save us all from such nonsense."
"The Council deliberates on this and on most other affairs for five days of every tenday. Adventurers, who can be a balm of the Gods or like flies to a carcass, are drawn by the misfortunes and the promise of gold on raiding drow's carcass or from the hands of fearful merchants alike. We've seen a flood of them come and go. Mostly they lash out, undisciplined, into the forests to find their deaths at the hands of the raiders. In the end, I think they are merely supplying the enemy with blades, coin, and supplies. Some mean well, and I pray their souls find easy rest on the good they intend."
"Do you intend to stay the evening? A gold soveriegn is the only cost, and morning and evening meals come with that coin. I won't take Sembian minted coins though, so I'd advise changing money at another place if that's from where you hail."
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Inriiaynrae Jaelre
- Lord||Lady
- Posts: 1444
- Joined: Thu Dec 31, 2009 7:30 am
- Location: Panama City, FL
- Contact:
Inrii watched as the man left. Zarstra looked to Inrii, "[color=red:3cin4kp6][i:3cin4kp6]did i scare him[/i:3cin4kp6][/color:3cin4kp6]?"
"[color=red:3cin4kp6][i:3cin4kp6]maybe[/i:3cin4kp6][/color:3cin4kp6]," she joked back. she let the lizard down on the counter.
"Milk's just fine." she said to the barkeep. she wasnt really that hungry anyway. "any scrap meat, Zarstra here might like."
She listened as he spoke of the happenings. she raised an eyebrow from beneth her hood out of curiosity. '[color=green:3cin4kp6]so grandfather is still at it. not surprising,'[/color:3cin4kp6] she thought. but what caught her attention the most was news of the followers of the Dancing Lady here, and walking freely among the people. Inrii looked at her fingers, the only part of her not covered at the moment, to check that the illusion was still working. she had make her skin look brownish to blend in better.
"so how do yall distinguish between friend or foe, among the dark elves?" she asked trying to act serious. most elves hated drow and faking of such hatred was hard to imitate. but knowing this information would help her get around the town better. maybe she could blend in among those followers till she decided to actually go home to Minauthkeep.
"as for room tonight, i will have to wait and see," she replied while fishing out coins. most were pick pocketed coins so their as no telling what she had. there were quite a few from the small towns in Anauroch.
"this work?"
"[color=red:3cin4kp6][i:3cin4kp6]maybe[/i:3cin4kp6][/color:3cin4kp6]," she joked back. she let the lizard down on the counter.
"Milk's just fine." she said to the barkeep. she wasnt really that hungry anyway. "any scrap meat, Zarstra here might like."
She listened as he spoke of the happenings. she raised an eyebrow from beneth her hood out of curiosity. '[color=green:3cin4kp6]so grandfather is still at it. not surprising,'[/color:3cin4kp6] she thought. but what caught her attention the most was news of the followers of the Dancing Lady here, and walking freely among the people. Inrii looked at her fingers, the only part of her not covered at the moment, to check that the illusion was still working. she had make her skin look brownish to blend in better.
"so how do yall distinguish between friend or foe, among the dark elves?" she asked trying to act serious. most elves hated drow and faking of such hatred was hard to imitate. but knowing this information would help her get around the town better. maybe she could blend in among those followers till she decided to actually go home to Minauthkeep.
"as for room tonight, i will have to wait and see," she replied while fishing out coins. most were pick pocketed coins so their as no telling what she had. there were quite a few from the small towns in Anauroch.
"this work?"
Main character: Inriiaynrae
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
The older man looked down at the mix of coins she rummaged through, and nodded.
"I do see a few that will pass muster. Though its been a while since I've seen a Cormyrian coin."
His hand lightly draped over the coin on the bar, drawing it towards him.
"Its pretty easy to tell friend from foe. The thieves steal with bloodlust and poison. The Eilistraeeans - Gods save them all - walk in unarmed more than half the time. They do have a few that won't be caught without weapons, but the city watch won't let them across the ford."
He took the coin between his thumb and forefinger, spinning it like a sun disk and taking in its sheen in the candle light that gave only the slightest of glows to the behind the bar area.
"The milk will be a moment. The meat won't take any time at all. Though, if you're not in any hurry I can shred a bit for him. And I'm Holfast Harpenshield, at your service."
He began to move towards the door to the kitchen, though he drifted in anticipation of any response she would give.
"I do see a few that will pass muster. Though its been a while since I've seen a Cormyrian coin."
His hand lightly draped over the coin on the bar, drawing it towards him.
"Its pretty easy to tell friend from foe. The thieves steal with bloodlust and poison. The Eilistraeeans - Gods save them all - walk in unarmed more than half the time. They do have a few that won't be caught without weapons, but the city watch won't let them across the ford."
He took the coin between his thumb and forefinger, spinning it like a sun disk and taking in its sheen in the candle light that gave only the slightest of glows to the behind the bar area.
"The milk will be a moment. The meat won't take any time at all. Though, if you're not in any hurry I can shred a bit for him. And I'm Holfast Harpenshield, at your service."
He began to move towards the door to the kitchen, though he drifted in anticipation of any response she would give.
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Inriiaynrae Jaelre
- Lord||Lady
- Posts: 1444
- Joined: Thu Dec 31, 2009 7:30 am
- Location: Panama City, FL
- Contact:
Inrii stored the info for later use. the only visible weapon was the sword in the scabbard on her belt. and being without armor made her look weaker than most, tho she was anything but.
"Inrii," she replied. no need to use her whole name, and definitely not her house name. "and I supose I'm in no hurry. she's got no plans either," the drowess said, motioning twords her lizard. when he walked to the back she wondered if he saw thru her facade. she looked around the room, studying it for hidden spots, or people.
"Inrii," she replied. no need to use her whole name, and definitely not her house name. "and I supose I'm in no hurry. she's got no plans either," the drowess said, motioning twords her lizard. when he walked to the back she wondered if he saw thru her facade. she looked around the room, studying it for hidden spots, or people.
Main character: Inriiaynrae
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
"Inrii. Inrii... Well met, m'lady."
It was a handful of minutes before he returned, a noticable racket in the kitchen gave away that he fetched the milk himself. A low rumble of voice, and a higher pitched answering indicated that someone else was back there, likely the one who fetched the milk. A soft boot thumped against the kitchen door, pushing it open rather than forcing it.
As he slid through, in one hand a ceramic bottle with a wide mouth at the top held milk, and in the other a bowl of shredded beef.
Before the drowess cloaked in illusion he set the milk. A little to the side he set the bowl of raw meat.
"Will that be all then?" and then he smiled.
The room contained few spaces for an untrained individual to hide, but many for a trained assassin. Both fireplaces, extinguished, would make for easy slipways into the inn.
Inrii's careful observations marked no telltale signs of spies.
It was a handful of minutes before he returned, a noticable racket in the kitchen gave away that he fetched the milk himself. A low rumble of voice, and a higher pitched answering indicated that someone else was back there, likely the one who fetched the milk. A soft boot thumped against the kitchen door, pushing it open rather than forcing it.
As he slid through, in one hand a ceramic bottle with a wide mouth at the top held milk, and in the other a bowl of shredded beef.
Before the drowess cloaked in illusion he set the milk. A little to the side he set the bowl of raw meat.
"Will that be all then?" and then he smiled.
The room contained few spaces for an untrained individual to hide, but many for a trained assassin. Both fireplaces, extinguished, would make for easy slipways into the inn.
Inrii's careful observations marked no telltale signs of spies.
His black hood was low over his face. A face that normally held a grimace; one that had been hardened over the years. he looked over at the small town from his perch in the tree. His target was in there. Swifty had memorized every detail, right down to eye color and slight facial imperfections.
With simple movement, he landed softly on the ground. Despite being half-elven, he had amazing dexterity and gracefulness. Such made him perfect for his job. to untrained eyes, he looked like an ordinary elf. But an elf could see the human in him. his ears were more human like, rounded though still pointed. He was also larger, standing around 5'10' with a thicker build.
Swifty started southbound the road that lead into the town. Drawing closer, he pulled back his hood. Hooded people tended to draw more attention than was necessary. and he needed complete discretion to complete his task.
His shook his head, shoulder length black hair gleaming with a greenish tint in the sunlight. The first building nearest him looked interesting. A quaint place to rest for the time before continuing on.
'White Hart Inn' he read. why not? he thought.
With simple movement, he landed softly on the ground. Despite being half-elven, he had amazing dexterity and gracefulness. Such made him perfect for his job. to untrained eyes, he looked like an ordinary elf. But an elf could see the human in him. his ears were more human like, rounded though still pointed. He was also larger, standing around 5'10' with a thicker build.
Swifty started southbound the road that lead into the town. Drawing closer, he pulled back his hood. Hooded people tended to draw more attention than was necessary. and he needed complete discretion to complete his task.
His shook his head, shoulder length black hair gleaming with a greenish tint in the sunlight. The first building nearest him looked interesting. A quaint place to rest for the time before continuing on.
'White Hart Inn' he read. why not? he thought.
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Inriiaynrae Jaelre
- Lord||Lady
- Posts: 1444
- Joined: Thu Dec 31, 2009 7:30 am
- Location: Panama City, FL
- Contact:
Inrii nodded. and took the glass. as habit, she discretely whispered the words to a spell, double checking for poison in her food and drink.
"So where might one find these ladies?" she asked, hoping to get more information.
Zarstra sniffed the meat and began munching on it.
"So where might one find these ladies?" she asked, hoping to get more information.
Zarstra sniffed the meat and began munching on it.
Main character: Inriiaynrae
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
Second Character: Ariali
Antagonist: Alya
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
As Tahllian moved towards the walking path of the White Hart Inn, a young man stepped from the entrance, heading towards town. Caught up in his own world, apparently unhappy about something as he muttered to himself angrily, it wasn't until Swifty was nearly upon him that he looked up to see the stranger to Ashabenford.
The local pulled up short, startled, and let out an, "Oh," before following lamely with, "Well met, saer. I go."
Then he turned towards the Ford, and began making his way with haste.
As his presence dwindled, a blackbird fluttered from the air, and landed near Tahllian, looking up with beady eyes glowing red in reflection of the sun.
For an instant, it seemed to be gauging something, watching to see what he'd do.
The local pulled up short, startled, and let out an, "Oh," before following lamely with, "Well met, saer. I go."
Then he turned towards the Ford, and began making his way with haste.
As his presence dwindled, a blackbird fluttered from the air, and landed near Tahllian, looking up with beady eyes glowing red in reflection of the sun.
For an instant, it seemed to be gauging something, watching to see what he'd do.
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Alak_Chathrosin
- Maid
- Posts: 35
- Joined: Wed Dec 09, 2009 6:25 pm
The incantation, easily spoken, caused the meat and the bowl which held it to glow a faint purple to Inrii's eyes - a side effect of the spell that told her the food and its container were free of poison.
The milk likewise had a lavender hue.
The innkeeper smiled softly as the lizard began to chew on the meat, and gazed at Zarstra even as he spoke to Inrii. "The Eilistraeean encampment is just to the south of here. If you leave the Inn and turn back towards Tilver's Gap and away from the ford to Ashabenford proper, you'll come to a cross roads that's so dusty and plain you likely missed it as you came in. Turn South, or to your left and you'll see their camp in perhaps five minutes of solid walking. Ten if you stroll."
He grinned.
"Regardless, they are gearing for battle against their dark skinned cousins of the wood, and gearing for politics in the town itself. Both are causes for sadness. Tempus be with them against their kin. But even the Lord of Battle knows better than to get into politics."
The old man began to wipe down a small section of the bar near to Inrii, but not near enough to pressure her into moving or give her the feeling he disliked her company. The opposite, in fact, was true. The old man's easy going manner, and amiable conversation were rather relaxing.
"If you do decide to stay a night, I've got some things that need carrying to those ladies. I'd be willing to mark 5 silver off your first night if you'd be so kind as to see they get to the camp?"
The milk likewise had a lavender hue.
The innkeeper smiled softly as the lizard began to chew on the meat, and gazed at Zarstra even as he spoke to Inrii. "The Eilistraeean encampment is just to the south of here. If you leave the Inn and turn back towards Tilver's Gap and away from the ford to Ashabenford proper, you'll come to a cross roads that's so dusty and plain you likely missed it as you came in. Turn South, or to your left and you'll see their camp in perhaps five minutes of solid walking. Ten if you stroll."
He grinned.
"Regardless, they are gearing for battle against their dark skinned cousins of the wood, and gearing for politics in the town itself. Both are causes for sadness. Tempus be with them against their kin. But even the Lord of Battle knows better than to get into politics."
The old man began to wipe down a small section of the bar near to Inrii, but not near enough to pressure her into moving or give her the feeling he disliked her company. The opposite, in fact, was true. The old man's easy going manner, and amiable conversation were rather relaxing.
"If you do decide to stay a night, I've got some things that need carrying to those ladies. I'd be willing to mark 5 silver off your first night if you'd be so kind as to see they get to the camp?"
Two figures raced through the area around them; one of them was clad in an odd-looking armor, looking more like an extra-layer of muscle with plating over it than actual armor; the other in a layer of platinum-dragon scale plate. A great winter wolf trailed along side the platinum armored warrior.
The two warriors were Onix, a half wild-elf, half-human clone soldier from a galaxy called the Milky Way; the other was an aasimar named Veraka Orden, and his winter wolf companion, Aurora.
Onix put on a burst of speed, his armor granting him increased attributes.
"Cheater!" Veraka hollered from behind him.
"Naw, mate; you just don't have the fancy kit," Onix replied in his usual sarcastic, but light wit. Veraka grunted in response to the clone's argument. Onix laughed at the aasimar's reply, and continued onward.
Right then, pain lanced up Onix's body, freezing him like a stone statue in place. Like a placed gargoyle statue, he fell forward. Veraka raced past the fallen clone a few paces before realizing that Onix had fallen to the ground.
Turning around to see him, Veraka was blinded a flash of searing light and loud, sickening 'POP', as if the air around him was sucked in with the force of hurricane, then with the strength of a thunder strike, propelled outwards against the aasimar. When he was able to lower his armored gauntlet to see, and moving his jaw so he could properly hear, Veraka noticed that Onix had vanished in thin air.
The two warriors were Onix, a half wild-elf, half-human clone soldier from a galaxy called the Milky Way; the other was an aasimar named Veraka Orden, and his winter wolf companion, Aurora.
Onix put on a burst of speed, his armor granting him increased attributes.
"Cheater!" Veraka hollered from behind him.
"Naw, mate; you just don't have the fancy kit," Onix replied in his usual sarcastic, but light wit. Veraka grunted in response to the clone's argument. Onix laughed at the aasimar's reply, and continued onward.
Right then, pain lanced up Onix's body, freezing him like a stone statue in place. Like a placed gargoyle statue, he fell forward. Veraka raced past the fallen clone a few paces before realizing that Onix had fallen to the ground.
Turning around to see him, Veraka was blinded a flash of searing light and loud, sickening 'POP', as if the air around him was sucked in with the force of hurricane, then with the strength of a thunder strike, propelled outwards against the aasimar. When he was able to lower his armored gauntlet to see, and moving his jaw so he could properly hear, Veraka noticed that Onix had vanished in thin air.