[CAMPAIGN] The treasure of the Frost Lord

[Lance]

[b:14ia2z3k]Who to join:[/b:14ia2z3k] Anyone but PM me first with information on what class(es), race, and character you plan to play.
[b:14ia2z3k]Alignment:[/b:14ia2z3k] Good or neutral is preffered
[b:14ia2z3k]Level:[/b:14ia2z3k] Probably high, 17-18 is most likely.
[b:14ia2z3k]Where:[/b:14ia2z3k] The bulk of the adventure will take place in Icewind Dale, the great northern land of ice, snow and frost. Keep your warm clothes close at hand .
[b:14ia2z3k]Introduction:[/b:14ia2z3k]
In the southern ranges of Amn, the merchant empire, lies Citadel Dragonmar. The keep lies on the edges of the forest of Mir and is built as keeps are normally built with a moat, hangbridge, large walls, a courtyard and several towers where its inhabitant live. The lord of this keep is Lance Dragonmar, vassal of Bahamut and champion of Eilistraee, a man managing to hang on to two dieties at the same time. At this time Lance was in the library dressed in a long blue coat with golden draconic patterns embroidered. In his hands was a great book, made of the scales of a white dragon and with a sigil looking like a snowlflake on its cover. In the same room was Lance's old friend Rajiek Highshadow, thief, scoundrel, swashbuckler and spy. Rajiek was a small man, his long black hair was tied in a ponytail except for a portion of the hair which was arranged so that it hung over his temple. Rajiek was dressed in an unadorned black coat, a coat which probably had numerous daggers hidden inside.
"I do not understand, Lance. Why are you bringing up this treasure again?" Rajiek asked.
"Oh, the last expedition was a failure to be sure but I am confident it can be attempted again. Think of the treasure awaiting, the forst lord's treasure is said to be one of the greatest in the realms"
"I do not lack motivation, Lance. I simply wonder why we should bother again. We barely survived last time"
"Ah, the blizzard. This time I have an expert on the area of frost on my side"
"Don't tell me it is..."
"Eledriah, of course. I know you feel uncomfortable but he is a good friend. And in Icewind Dale I would have no one else as my guide"
"You do as you wish, Lance, but we need more companions than that"
"Certainly, that is why I am sending a message among the Chosen"
"Eilistraeeans? By Mask, we cannot have any rookies on this expedition!"
"You would be suprised, most of them are seasoned adventurers"
"Well, if you say so..."
"Now keep quiet while I finish the letter"

Lance looked down at the parchment he was currently writing on, added a few words and signed the letter:

[i:14ia2z3k]My dear Chosen,
For those desiring wealth, adventure and an experience to remember I offer you this opportunity. High up in the north lies Icewind Dale, a place of many dangers and beauties. A long time ago it was united by an entity known as the "frost lord". He gathered the most fabled treasure known and locked it away somewhere in the north. I am gathering an expedition to recover this treasure and I offer those who accompany me an equal share of this treasure. So if you are interested meet me in a tenday at Waukeen's Promenade in Athkatla, you will know when I come.
Respectfully,
Lance Dragonmar, vassal of Bahamut and chosen of Eilistraee[/i:14ia2z3k]

Then Lance muttered a few words and the scroll's magic activated, sending the message to those intended.
"Now, let's get the preparations ready, Rajiek" Lance said and the two walked away.

[Lance]

[b:2jueaqq6]Amn, Athkatla[/b:2jueaqq6]
Like all days Waukeen's promenade was busy, the market and shops were bustling with customers. The merchants cried out there wares and at the several plattforms on the large square bards and performers were fishing for money. The promenade was designed like an amphitheatre. Each level had numerous shops, the lower shops were of course the best ones. The norhtern and the southern exits were decorated with statues of Waukeen and a stream of people entered and exited the great square. It seemed to be a fairly common day.
Only this was a most unusual day.

OOC: Now you're free to introduce yourselves and arrive. Socialize a bit and Lance will arive

[Tyrmer]

OOC: I apologise for the appalling "Minsc & Boo" connotations.

A massive man with perfectly chiselled features that slightly vex the eyes of those that look on them walks through the southern gate. He carries a massive silver-white metal hammer across his enormously broad back and wears a corslet of silver-white rings. He wears two large bracers of a similar material and has a large knife sheath at his hip. Apart from that he wears simple but well made cotton clothing and sturdy leather boots that look as if they've seen excessive use, and a massive oilskin backpack with a tent and a sleeping roll hanging from it as well as numerous cooking utensils etc. What strikes most people as odd is how "neat" he looks; as if he's just walked out of a tailor's shop with nary a hair out of place.

He walks over to one side and sits down on one of the gigantic steps that make up the side of the promenade and pulls out a small mirror and checks every aspect of hisappearance then carefully unpacks a small wooden box from his pocket and takes out a small white mouse which he plays with, letting it run over his hands and up and down his arms, occasionally feeding it a piece of grain from another small box.

[Adian Novar]

A small figure detatched himself from a large caravan, one of many for this time of year. His protective commission complete and his pay collected, the cloaked and hooded figure with the bastard sword strapped to his back found himself nearly lost in the sea of much-taller humans. He threaded his way through the crowds carefully, gliding his way to one of the higher steps of Waukeen's promenade in the hopes of a better view. His golden eyes, deep within his hood, squinted in the daylight as he sought out the sender of the mysterious missive.

The touch of Eilistraee had been on it, and surely that was what had caused it to make its way to him. He was, after all, a Bladedancer and defender of her faith. Unfortunately, beyond the name he had little idea of who had called him here and no way to identify him.

Forced by the sunlight to take shelter in the shade of one of the statues, he found himself nearby a human whose build seemed to qualify him as a mountain range. A sight made all the more odd by his attention to a tiny pet mouse that seemed to be lost in his gigantic hands.

Conscious of the reputation his kin "enjoyed" on the surface world, he made certain that his scarf covered his lower face enough to keep from betraying his night black skin. He settled himself for a wait, hoping it would not take terribly long for his summoner to arrive.

[Tyrmer]

OOC: You're right in your estimations, he is roughly the size and shape of an ogre but he is human.

IC: The mountain of a man is oblivious to being observed by the newcomer and continues to play with his mouse for a few more minutes then carefully places it back in its box and puts it back in his pocket. Then he takes out a small pair of tweezers and his mirror and carefully removes every and all of the hairs that fell off the mouse from his clothing then places them back in his pack and takes out a small cloth (compared to him but really a good sized one for a human) and a waterskin that looks like it could hold enough for four people, and cleans his hands thoroughly, carefully removing the dirt from underneath his immaculate nails with his enormous knife then wiping the knife and returning it to its sheaf. "Water." He rumbles apparently to no one and wanders off towards one of the fountains just outside the gate, presumeably to fill his massive waterskin.

A few minutes later his rumbling voice is heard. "Food." And he appears back through the gate and lumbers *smartly) over to the food stalls and examines their wares.

[Lance]

On one of the many stages on the promenade stands a small man. He is quite small for a human, being between five and six feet tall (though closer to fiven than six). He is dressed in a long black coat with black leather armor overneath. He also wears a hooded black cloak. A rapier and a dagger hangs at his belt. He has long black hair which is tied in the back as a ponytail, his front hair is managed stylishly across his temple though. While he seemingly looks casually he actually studies the marketplace carefully. He notices the two stranger almost immediately and takes out a crystal lens and puts it to his eye.
"Hmm, Lance surely has strange allies" he mutters to himself.
Rajiek claps his hands and a loud *bang* is heard over the promenade, attracting the attention of those around him. He then begins to recite a strange poem:

[i:mdi9uemz]Hear me proud and strong,
Hear me brave and valiant,
Hear me those who seek
to serve the maiden of dark

There is, I say, a tale
a tale of gold in frost,
a tale frozen whispers
of a forgotten hoard

Soon the dragon comes,
soon the dragon flies,
to the distant north,
to forgotten secrets

so hear me proud and strong,
hear me brave and valiant
I can show the way
to him born by the dragon[/i:mdi9uemz]

While the text is lost on most of the audience Rajiek recites it so well that an applause follows his recitation. Several of the spectators throw coin up on the stages and Rajiek bows, thanking the spectators. Then he sits down, indicating that the show is over. The spectators mostly leave the area and head for the other stages. Satisfied Rajiek moves himself in a comfortable position and waits.

[Adian Novar]

[i:3dn97eyw]No mistaking that,[/i:3dn97eyw] Adian thought to himself. He roused himself from his hidden pose and made his way down towards the stage. As he approached he recognized quickly that the man was certainly the servant of a powerful noble of some sort.

His Sight told him that there was no sign of malice within the man, not in those around him. Adian stepped through the crowd and approached the poet, remaining on the lower steps out of respect to the man's rank.

"You are the servant of the sender of the missives?" Adian asked from under his hood and scarf. "I am Adian Novar of Eilistraee's Promenade of Undermountain. Well met."

[Tyrmer]

The man hears the man's poem and lumbers up with his arms laden with provisions enough for a small army. He stops in front of the stage (but still being a head or more taller than anyone on it) and, very carefully, proceeds to pack all his purchases into his massive backpack. When he has finished he takes out a small brush and removes any specks of dirt or food from his clothes then proceeds to the stage and declares. "Merinid." In his booming voice.

[Lance]

Rajiek adresses Adian first:
"Well met Adian. I am Rajiek Highshadow, friend, companion and messenger of lord Lance Dragonmar who sent out the message. He is a noble of a small area around the forest of Mir to the south and is well-liked by his 'subjects' "
Rajiek laughs at the thought.
"Now lord Dragonmar doesn't resemble your typical noble, he is a paladin of both Eilistraee, whom I believe you are quite familiar with, and Bahamut, the diety of good dragonkind"
Rajiek nods to Merinid when he appears.
"Well met you too, Merinid. Very well, lord DRagonmar asked me to inform you that he will arive momentarily with the veichle which will take us to Icewind Dale if you are interested. But perhaps I should go through the details?"
Rajiek laughs a bit and unfolds a parchment. The parchment shows a map of Icewind Dale although it is old-fashioned and contains several unfamiliar names and even cities, something almost unheard of in the frozen north.
"This, my friends, is Icewind Dale five hundred years ago during the age of the Frost Lord. What is known is that he united everything in Icewind Dale into one strong nation. Most of his empire has crumbled to dust by now but in some places he is remembered. Legend say he left behind an enormous treasure locked in a secret vault within the glaciers. Many have searched and few have returned. The treasure, though, is by all record left untouched. It is this treasure lord Dragonmar intends to find. It is a difficult journey, Icewind Dale is cold and unforgiving and is the home of many dangerous creatures, not to speak of the traps that always guards vaults of this kind. What is interesting is that legend clearly speaks of a relic or some kind associated with Eilistraee being included in the treasure, that is why Lance believed his fellow chosen would be interested. Then the treasure is, of course, big enough to make us all wealthy men. What say you, my friends, are you interested?"

[Velve]

"Hmm, well I have always wished to be a wealthy [i:197avt9n]woman[/i:197avt9n]."

The feminine voice comes from a darkly dressed figure, who gently pushes back the hood of her cloak as she steps towards the group from the entrance of a nearby shop.

She appears elven and is only about average height for one, with a finely featured face and high cheekbones, and a mane of firey red, slightly wavey hair hanging lose save for a couple of small braids starting near her temples to be tied loosely behind her head, holding the rest of her hair back. Her eyes look like that of a cat, and are blood-red in colour.

"I am Liera, well met, all of you." She smiles slightly, revealing who sharp and pointed canines, and brushes a stray lock of hair behind a jaggedly pointed ear.

She is dressed in blacks and deep purples, with high heeled boots that reach up to her knees and are then turned down, with blue and gold symbols along them. The rest of her legs are covered with black breeches, which have small slits along the outer of her thighs, with what looks like crisscrossing laces covering the small exposure of skin. At her belt lies a darkened leather scabbard which holds a rather beautifully crafted longsword, as much of it can be seen anyway. Also adorning her belt are a few small pockets and pouches. The cloth covering her torso is quite formfitting, yet reaches up to her neckline where a black metal collar rests. The colar reaches out over her shoulders with grand looking spikes, two on each side of her neck. The collar seems to be connected to her cloak, which is a very deep purple, almost black, and hangs down her back to almost reach the ground, and yet is not weathered of worn in the least. Her right arm is more heavily armored than her right, yet without even really being armored. A small, lightweight dark metal spualder with fancy elven paterns adorn both shoulders, the right one being a little longer, covering half of her bicep, the other only covering the top of her shoulder. Some black padded leather circles around her right bicep to the vambrace, which is made from the same metal as her collar and spaulders, and in the same elven design which looks to offer very little restraint to movement. Her left arm is uncovered up untill half way down her bicep, where black cloth runs down her arm, to meet with a cloth vambrace which is designed to mimic the shape and patern of the metal one on her right arm.

OOC: I realise the description of her armor may be a little hard to understand, and will post a screeny of her in nwn, once I have time.

[Adian Novar]

"While I have little interest in wealth," Adian said modestly. "There are many in the Promenade who would benefit from this treasure you speak of. As for the relic, surely Lady Veladorn would have me investigate such a possibility. I shall assist you in whatever ways my meager ability allows."

[Tyrmer]

"I will come." Rumbles Merinid. "I wish to see the lands of ice and their wonders."

OOC: A description of Merinid.

Merinid is indead a mountain of a man standing twelve feet high in his socks! He has a very neat shock of raven black hair atop his head that stands out well against his tanned complexion. His eyes are an icey blue and his face is disturbing to the subconcious as it is completely symetrical and flawless. Not flawless in an handsome way, but flawless in that it has nary a freckle nor blemish. These two facts taken together tend to make the average man in the street uneasy, not to mention his gigantic size. Physically he is without compare, his muscles look like LARGE melons that have been pushed into sacking. When they ripple people standing nearby have to move out the way if they don't want to catch a ding on the ear. He wears simple but well made and very neat clothes. You could search all day but you wouldn't find a loose thread anywhere on them.

Everything about him is massive including his equipment. The hammer slung across his back is big even by his standards, a normal human probably couldn't lift it easily, never mind wield it in battle. His pack looks big enough to fit a person in, when opened it is packed so tightly that it is hard to get anything out, it carries a mountain of things. Merinid is a pack horse and takes everything he thinks he might need for an adventure.

His one concession to a trace of normality is his keeping of a pet. His little mouse lives in a wooden box in his belt pouch and he feeds it generously but healthily, doting on it and protecting it above all things.

he has a stange love of diamonds and carries a great many on his person but never in plain sight. He never spends them however, he merely seems to collect them.

[Lance]

"Wonderful" Rajiek replies. "Lance will provide more in-depth information about the task and the Eilistraeean relic. He should be here any moment now"
Rajiek gazes to the sky and then smiles briefly.
"Ah, here he is"
Moments after a large ship simply flies over the entire promenade. The ship is about the size of a common sailing ship but with one exception, its crystaline large wings. The ship circles over the marketplace and finally hovers down close to the spot where Rajiek is standing. The ship is decorated with draconic figures and the name "Dragonwing" is carved into the hull.

OOC: Here is an image of what the ship roughly looks like by the way:

[img:2qu9t8k0]http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/B ... 72739_.jpg[/img:2qu9t8k0]

The man at the steering wheel goes towards the edge of the ship and throws down a rope ladder. Graciously he climbs down and goes to the stage where Rajiek is standing. He is a contrast to the rather small Rajiek, being roughly seven feet tall. He is dressed in a azure-blue coat with golden draconic figures embroided. This coat is mostly covered by a beautiful scales mail which seems to be made of platinum. A sword hangs from his belt and you could almost swear that a tune seems to come from it as if it was singing. He is also dressed in a large black cloak with the silver sword symbol of Eilistraee embroidered on the back. The most curious thing about him, however, is that his hair is silver-colored, although not by age, which is most unusual for a human. His eyes are equally strange, looking like floating silver and lacking the usual iris.
"Ah, Lance, on time I see"
Rajiek remarks casually.
"Quite so, Rajiek. The winds were favorable so I was able to make it on time. My message also reached its destination successfully, I see"
Lance remarks, looking at the assembled people below the stage.
"Come, come, my friends. No need for me to maintain any illusion of status here. In the eyes of the godess we are all equals. I am Lance Dragonmar, by the way, and this..."
he gestures at the ship
"...is Dragonwing, the veichle which will carry us to Icewind Dale"

[Velve]

Liera smirks briefly as the ship comes in overhead, her eyes only glancing at it before returning to casualy observing those of the promenade, seeming to look anywhere but at the ship.

Once Lance is on the ground, Liera hardly even spares him any more of a look than she did the ship.

"Almost a contradiction. You make your entrance in such a... grand fashion," she fills those two words with sarcasm , "and then speak of being equals in the Godess' eyes." As she spoke these words in an amost off-hand tone, she casualy drew a dagger and started trimming her black, claw-like nails. Having rather rudely said her part, she slipped the dagger back into its sheathe attached to her right thigh, her left hand then resting on the sword hilt, fingers druming impaitently.

After a few moments, she sighs a little, actualy meeting Lance's eyes with her own. "I am sorry... I didn't mean it so... rudely."
She smiles gently now, her sharp canine teeth glinting in the light. "My name is Liera."

[Tyrmer]

Merinid nods to Lance in acknowledgement. "Merinid." He rumbles at him, but his gaze is not resting on him but the ship. More specifically the crystal wings that keep it afloat on the winds, his eyes follow their flowing pattern of movements.