The Dream of Cormanthyr [IC]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra releases the power of her spell reluctantly and sits back with a sigh. Leaving the presence of the Lady always left her feeling lonely for a while and disappointed with the mundane world around her after the too-short glimpse of the Lady's majesty....

But there isn't any time for that now, so she pulls herself together and whispers a short prayer of thanks to Mystra for gifting her with Her knowledge and guidance. That done, she stands and says, "And now we have our information; I only hope it will be sufficient. Come, let us find the others and go over our answers together. They must have finished their investigations by now." Ayorra takes a few steps, then looks up at the position of the sun and corrects herself, "Or perhaps they have not. I always forget that divine communion plays havoc with one's perceptions--'time flies,' as the Cormyrians would say. Perhaps we should ask before seking them out."

The Hathran whispers a prayer to Mystra to carry her words through the Weave, then says, Sydil and I have completed our divinations. What is the status of your investigations, and would it be beneficial for us to join you now?

Spoiler

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Ayorra casts sending to Mithranix.

[Chambers]

Yrthraetha frowns as Mithrnaix responds in the common tongue, then raises one eyebrow and smiles. It's not a pleasant smile. "No, this one did not summon myself. As my family owns this business, it is warded and when the door was broken I was alerted." She says in Elven. She glances around as if looking for someone else. "As there does not appear to be any great calamity I'm not certain why the door was breached but I'm sure that ones as highly regarded as yourselves have an adequate explanation."

Aster raises his head and says. "My lady, I was working on -"

"Silence." She says without facing him and he instantly is quiet, head down and looking at the ground. She glances at Aria and her gaze lingers, her eyes seeking weakness. She sniffs and turns back to Mithranix. "I overheard him speaking of entering into talks with yourselves over the repair of his door. I presume then that it was your actions that broke it? If so, I must ask you, as a representative of my family, what business you have with this shopkeeper and my families estates."

The half-elf shifts his weight from one side to the other but keeps looking at the floor while the three elven guards continue to stare at each of you. Moments later Mithranix hears the whispered words of Ayorra on the wind.

[TheFallenSon]

"My companions and I are on business for my order, we were coming here to ask the shop keeper questions about some of his business....it was then that we heard a yell for help. Of course we responded quickly. There have been murders of late Archmage, citizens have been put to the blade. Their crimes seem to be, that they are different. Something that our half kin friend here is." His tone changed a few times during that bit of conversation. When he brought up the murders he would give the other elves here a slightly...knowing...look.

"You should consider it a blessing from the elf father that we were here and able to respond as quickly as we did. It turns out however, that your tradesmen was losing a fight with one of his pelts...which led him to hiding in his closet...strange, but he seems fine. Do the pelts and stuffed animals often trouble your crafters? Mayhaps you have wronged another wizard who is trying to cause you problems." Mithranix caught himself and turned away from the gathering for a second. His face twisted in a smile. He had begun to travel down a road of humor that might have ended badly.

While his back was turned he would answer the others. "There is a game a foot here, a mage from the tower has responded to a magical alarm and summons of some type. We may need your help."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra tilts her head to the side, listening to the return sending, then tells Sydil "Mithranix says they have been intercepted by an arcanist from the Tower under suspicious circumstances and requests our presence. Let us go." The hathran whispers a prayer of guidance and recasts her spell of flight before leading Sydil to their companions' location.

Spoiler

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Ayorra casts locate creature to locate Mithranix. She will fly back to the palace and then spiral outwards until Mithranix pings on her spell (the range is 1040 feet) and then home in on his location.

[Chambers]

Mithranix/Dane

"I consider many blessings from the First of the Seldarine, Ak'hrua, though I am not certain that an overzealous paladin and his entourage would be considered one of them. Any questions you would ask him you may ask me." Yrthraetha says in Elven with an icy voice as she motions her head towards the cowed shop owner.

Ayorra/Sydil

The pool sends a small wave to slap against a tree limb as you fly and leave, almost like the spirit within waving goodbye. Many of the streets and buildings below are covered under the canopy as you fly towards the palace though from this height you notice aerial guards keeping watch in the taller trees that you hadn't seen before. Pairs of elves and large flying beast, griffons and wyverns, rest in the highest branches of the canopy. Some of the wyverns growl at you but their riders snap at them in Draconic and silently regard you as you pass.

Flying out from the Palace Mithranix is not hard to find. Ayorra feels a gentle pull on her second pass around the Palace, leading her to the west and down to where Danglestar Street dead ends into the Street of Song. The spell pulls you a little stronger as you fly over one building in particular, a two story manor house that looks like it's been converted into a business of some kind. Seen from the street, the front door has been smashed in and the street is otherwise deserted.

Spoiler

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TheFallenSon Are you still speaking in Common? I wasn't sure.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"Is there a problem here with which I may assist you, Distinguished Magus?" Ayorra asks in polite Elven as she steps over the wreckage of the door. Having heard the elf's comment about an overzealous paladin, the hathran smiles to herself behind her mask; she could usually sympathize with the woman's sentiments, but this particular paladin was an ally and the victim rather than the cause of a suspicious scenario, for once. Solving this peacefully would let them get back to their real business, or discover that this shopkeeper related to their primary objective, and either case would be a good outcome.

"My companion and I were nearby, heard some upsetting noises, and thought to investigate." All technically true, depending on how one defined "nearby" and what sort of noise one found upsetting. Hathran have no trouble with lying for the greater good when necessary, but Ayorra prided herself on sticking to the truth whenever possible even if only by a technicality.

[AmberVael]

Sydil quietly steps into the room after Ayorra, still mulling over the answers they had received to their divination, though the destruction of the door and tone of the magus before them draws her attention at least partially to the present. She blinks at the sight of the mage in question, remembering the summary of the situation that had been relayed to her. She wasn't sure of the source of the misinformation, whether it was a mistake, so she decides to be as discreet about it as possible.

"Yrthraetha, Archmage of House Ealoeth." Sydil whispers quickly to Ayorra. "I don't know her through the tower- I don't think she's affiliated with them- but I've heard of her." Even if anyone overheard, Sydil hoped they'd think she was just keeping Ayorra informed of the situation.

[TheFallenSon]

"It just seems strange that one of your stature would see it necessary to personally come to the aid of your families servant. It seems a task better suited to those men at arms, or the local authorities. The law fivers do act in the name of the Coronal herself. Strange...probably nothing.The only bit of speech not in a nice traditional Elvish would be the honorific. He would bow just a bit to the rest of his companions as they arrived.

"Archmage, your shop keeper has become known as a collector of artifacts and trinkets from the days of the cities glory. We were interested in the location of a particular piece from days long past."

Spoiler

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just the title...Archmage...

[Chambers]

The elven guards move aside to let both of you in. Yrthraetha does not raise her well-manicured eyebrow at Ayorra and Sydil's entrance. "Fair morning, Ambassador. It seems the day for unusual visitors." She barely nods her head to Ayorra while her eyes have already skipped over to Sydil. "An Ambassador, Ak'hrua, Faern, and a...paladin." She hesitates over the last word as if merely acknowledging Dane was painful. The slight to Sydil was more subtle but no less an insult, Yrthraetha referring to her as simply 'One Who Practices Art' instead of the other half-dozen more respectful titles for her to choose from. "As the business here does not involve the business of our two nations, I don't see how you may assist, but please feel free to remain. I would offer you refreshments as a proper host, but this one barely holds to any rules of civility..." She says and motions her head towards Aster, still standing still and looking down, "...and Ak'hrua Mithranix was in the process of asking impertinent questions regarding the operations of my House and business."

She said all this while still looking at Sydil, her pale green eyes staring without blinking. She finally turns and gives another slight nod towards Ayorra before turning to face Mithranix. "I've heard such things myself. It's always interesting what one may hear when one simply listens." She raises an eyebrow. "Which particular piece are you referring to?"

[TheFallenSon]

"The order seeks knowledge to fight those enemies which plague our people. The seek the Selu'Kirra of as many ancient members of the Windsong Tower as can be found. The order believes that there is a truly dark force present in the City of Songs. That other worldly powers are seeking a way to destabilize our nation and to harm our people. The tactics, spells, notes, anything really is what the grandmasters seek to collect. Do you and your merchant have any wares from before the fall of this city?"He would sound as earnest as possible his face changing to concern as he mentioned the darkness that fouled the city now. His eyebrows knitting up in frustration as he talked of old evils.

His face lights up for the briefest second, as if he had just remembered a particular detail. "In particular my masters are interested in the Kirras of those mages learned in the nature of dreams, the magic inherent to them, how they are made, their realm. Lethanil Greenvine is a name on of my masters mentioned."

[Chambers]

One corner of Yrthraetha's mouth rises up briefly before her frown returns. "I have heard of Arfaern Lethanil, but the last I heard he was dead and his selu'kirra went missing when Myth Drannor fell." She says, placing emphasis on the correct pronounciation of the elven lore-gems. "If you seek information regarding dream magic, he would be the one to find."

She turns one hand palm up in a gesture of apology. "Unfortunately luck is the only thing I may offer as I've no information about the whereabouts of him or his selu'kirra." She glances over at Dane and then back to Mithranix. "In recompense for not being able to help, I will waive the debt of the door and spells. Unless there is some other business that you have...?" She says.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra nods minutely to Sydil when she identifies the archmage, but refrains from saying or doing anything else at the moment. She finds it a bit suspicious when the archmage denies all knowledge and attempts to usher them out, under the circumstances, so rather than attempting to dig deeper she merely smiles in response to the Archmage's question and responds, "As you appear to be occupied with repairing the premises, honored Archmage, my companion and I will take things from here."

She ushers the others outside and down the street a ways until they are all out of earshot of the store. "A dead end," she murmurs, "and a curious one at that. Sydil and I were successful in our divinations for the most part, so we have some leads to follow...but we should definitely look into this archmage's activities and connections after that. As you noted," she says to Mithranix, "her personal involvement in this seems highly irregular."

Spoiler

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Ayorra will roll Sense Motive to see if the Archmage is lying about lacking information or otherwise trying to conceal something.

(1d20+25)[33]

[AmberVael]

"I don't know that it makes it our concern though. There are lots of legitimate reasons to strongly want privacy and security." Sydil quietly interjects. "I think we should just look for the kiira. Do we need to prepare anything? I've the magic to get us where we need to go available to me."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"Many legitimate reasons for privacy and security in general, yes," Ayorra counters, "but the personal involvement of one so powerful in such times as these...well. As I said, this is not a matter to investigate immediately, but one to keep in mind after the kiira situation is resolved." She shakes her head in response to Sydil's question. "I have made all the preparations I require; there is no time to waste."

[Chambers]

"I know more people than this little shop, others that would be more willing to talk." Mithranix says. "If Dane and the lovely lady would be so kind as to accompany me, I think a trio of servants of the Coronal will strike a more imposing figure than myself." Dane nods and Aria places her hand on his shoulder in agreement. "Let us meet at the Serpentspires Feasthall for supper this evening, along Berduin's Ride. It's not far from the Palace and many agents of the Crown frequent it. Until then, Madam Ambassador, Ar'faern Sydil." He says and bows with a flourish, leading Dane and Aria away from the district, towards the less savory part of the city.

A few moments later and Sydil and Ayorra are alone in the street. As Sydil prepares the incantation that will take her and Ayorra to the outskirts of Battlerise, Ayorra catches a glimpse of Aster's face near the darkened storefront window. He looks sad, but is quickly surprised when he notices her watching him and quickly darts back into the store. Speaking the words of power familiar to her Sydil visualizes what little she knows about the village and moments later feels herself and Ayorra pulled through the strands of magic that infuse Myth-Drannor and arrive outside a devastated town.

Arriving next to an overgrown hedge that lines the road east of Battlerise Shortages and Sydil see what remains of the village. Of the twenty or so buildings that once made up the village only three still retain enough walls and a roof to provide any shelter. The others have been completely demolished and are little more than heaps of rubble.

The small fields where crops grew are nothing more than blackened and scorched earth and no animals are visible around the burned husk of the large barn. Two of the buildings that still stand are in the center of the town about a hundred yards away and look to be battered, but the stone walls of what appears to be a smithy and temple still stand. The third building is a small castle that sits on top of a small hill just north of the town. It's walls bear many scorched marks but are in better shape than the other two. No smoke rises from the chimneys of the castle, nor lights in the windows, and there are no sounds of people anywhere in the village. A moment later Ayorra notices that there are no corpses either, animal or people. Whatever force destroyed this village picked it clean of all signs of life.

[AmberVael]

In response to the destruction around them, Sydil begins weaving spells around herself in preparation for offensive action. It takes only a minute, and once she has completed that, she casts one more spell, a spell that summons a near invisible elemental.

"I was thinking we could use a scout." She quietly explains to Ayorra, as she commands the elemental to search a short distance ahead of them and report back if it finds anything unusual.

Spoiler

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Sydil will cast the following spells on herself:

Barskin
Burrow
Freedom of Movement
Greater Blindsight
Magic Vestment
Moment of Prescience
See Invisibility
Superior Resistance
Stormrage
Tongues

[Chambers]

The elemental glides over the hedge and flys through the air towards the center of town, soaring above the ruined houses and diving low along the street, small whirlwinds of leaves and debris that are born and die furiously the only sign of its passage. It floats in the air at the center of town and seems to slow down for a second pass around the smithy before gliding back to Sydil.

The shifting mass of distorted air sighs and burbles for a moment and then fades away with the breeze.

Spoiler

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Auran/Tongues: The ignan burns within the iron.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

While Sydil's summons her elemental and sends it out to make the rounds, Ayorra holds out both her hands in benediction to encompass herself and Sydil and begins chanting prayers and words of magic. By the time the elemental returns the Hathran has warded them both in yet more layers of magic and a magical bond pulses between them. "If the way is safe," she says, her words sounding to Sydil like Ayorra is whispering them right into her ear, "we should proceed. There may still be an ambush or traps here, so use caution; whisper your words and only I will be able to hear them."

Spoiler

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I'm assuming Sydil is already part of her Arcane Tapestry and that Ayorra already has Greater Anticipate Teleportation and Energy Immunity for all 5 energy types up, since those all last 24 hours.

Ayorra casts the following spells on both of them:

Body Ward (Con)
Soul Ward (Wis)
Death Ward
Owl's Wisdom
Crown of Protection
Protection from Evil
Speak to Allies
Heart of Water
Fly
Indomitability

She will then cast the following spells just on herself:

Battlemagic Perception
Sanctuary
Ebon Eyes
Shield of Faith
Ironguard
Starmantle
Freedom of Movement

There's no kill like overkill.

Ayorra cautiously moves into the city proper, floating a few inches above the ground to avoid making too much noise and keeping an eye out for any observers or other threats. She leads the way to the smithy that Sydil's elemental indicated and, pausing to scan for threats, makes her way inside.

Spoiler

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Before entering the smithy, Ayorra will cast Detect Magic and Detect Thoughts. If she detects anything, she'll stay outside.

[Chambers]

The silence of the village is not even broken by your footsteps as your magics carry you across the ground and into what was once the center of the village. From close up you can see that the scorched marks that cover the crumbling buildings are scattered and uneven. There was no precision in this destruction; the evidence before you indicates a carelessness - or perhaps indifference - in the application of arcane fire. You sense that as well for even though the fires have died out the lingering residue of powerful magic remains. You both feel a slight twinge, a pull of the Weave, the remnants of magic used to hurt and kill with joyful intent. It's almost nauseating, but the Weave is strong and the part that goes through this land has already begun to heal.

Ayorra senses a strong binding within the smithy and it leads her to the anvil. You can feel the heat from a few feet away but can sense no minds in the area. Enchanted forges are not unheard of and whatever spell has bound the fire elemental to the anvil appears to have suppressed its thoughts as well. Sydils third eye sense reveals no creature before her; the spell has invested the life of the elemental into the anvil itself.

As you investigate the smithy you hear the sound of hoofbeats outside. Looking through a destroyed part of the wall you see three riders approaching from the castle. Each is clad in plate mail and bears a shield and lance, the banner of the Purple Dragons flying from a pennon on the lead riders mount. You each immediately recognize their horses as creatures of magic, phantom steeds capable of flying and traveling at great speed. Within a few moments the riders have raced down the hill and come to a halt about 50ft away.

The lead rider holds up his lance in salute and flips up the visor of his helm showing a pair of clear blue eyes. "Halt and identify yourselves travelers." He says, his voice a rich baritone. "I am Sir Bronin, Captain of Battlegate. These are my lieutenants." He nods towards the men behind him, their faces hidden behind their helms. "This is a restricted area. Please state your business here."

Spoiler

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See Invisibility & Blindsight don't reveal any hidden creatures. If Ayorra maintains her Detect Magic and turns it towards them, which I'm assuming she'll do, the above would count as 2 rounds of study.

The horses are of course magical, easily identifiable as Phantom Steeds. You sense three auras on each rider. The strongest aura is Faint.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra nods respectfully to the knights, concealing a flash of annoyance behind her mask. When she speaks, however, her tone is conciliatory: "Well met, Captain. I am Ambassador Ayorra of Rashemen, and my companion is Lady Sydil of Silverstream. We are seeking an item belonging to the elves of Myth Drannor which we have reason to believe has been stolen and hidden near here. When we arrived and saw what had happened to this town, however, we thought that a hostile force might be in the area and decided to investigate first."

She pauses for a moment, debating whether to mention exactly what they were searching for and where, but the Hathran decides she doesn't trust these Cormyreans yet--if that is actually what they are--so she merely adds, "What did happen here, Captain?"

[Chambers]

Captain Bronin nods his head towards each of you. "Ambassador, Lady. I know of no elven relics that are sequestered here, though Myth Drannor fell many years ago. It's possible that it was placed here soon after the Fall and either abandoned or forgotten by the thief. If I know what you were searching for I might be able to offer more help." He says and shifts in his saddle, the weight of his armor a burden that he's clearly experienced with. He frowns and as Ayorra mentions the destruction. "The rebels sought to seize Battlegate Keep and use it to choke off any aid we might receive from the Dales." He spits on the ground as his face contorts in anger. "When the traitorous war wizards learned that we would not give up the Keep they decided that they would destroy the town, presumably to prevent us from using it if they could not have it. Many innocent lives were lost, and the few surviving villagers left town and headed inland."

He pauses and takes off his helm, resting it in his lap while he runs his free hand through his brown hair. His fatigue is clear under his eyes and worry lines spread across his forehead. "And now I have an additional trouble to add. I'd tell you that the Keep is restricted and that you're not allowed inside, but I think that no elven artifact is to be found anywhere else in this town but at the Keep, if there at all. Do you have any thoughts on how to solve this impasse?"

Spoiler

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Last round of Detect Magic. Ayorra would tap the Spellcraft DC's to identify the three aura's on each rider. The aura's are identical in strength (as mentioned before) and in school; Evocation, Abjuration, and Illusion.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra's sympathy for the town is somewhat muted when she finds out the cause of the destruction--more stupid partisan bickering by the Cormyreans; no Rashemi would ever let such a thing happen!--but she does bow her head and murmur a prayer to the local spirits to help guide the lost souls to Kelemvor and to Mystra to speak well on their behalf before the Lord of the Dead.

Not wanting to be forced into subterfuge and seeing no reason not to take the easy and legal path, she decides to trust the knight for now. "The item we seek is an elven selu-kiira, a lore-gem that holds information which may be instrumental in resolving a current trouble that threatens the elven lands. We do not know when it was lost nor who stole it, but our divinations and other inquiries have led us to believe that it is in Battlegate, possibly even in the Labyrinth below it."

Ayorra folds her hands before her in the gesture she usually uses when mediating disagreements. "Might I ask why the Keep is restricted, and why we would not be allowed within it? Lady Sydil and I do possess the full backing of our respective nations in this matter, and I would be prepared to swear any necessary oaths affirming that we bear no ill will against the Cormyrian people. If we were to be allowed to explore the Labyrinth without entering the Keep proper, would that be satisfactory for your superiors? This is a matter of some urgency to the Coronal and Myth Drannor as a whole, and if there is any way for us to be permitted to carry out our search we would welcome exploring the possibility."

[Chambers]

"This is official business from Cormanthyr then?" The captain says and narrows his eyes. "Funny that they can't find the time to send help to an ally but have no problem sending people out to search for lost relics." He holds one hand to his head and massaged his temple. "Forgive me, but I've little sympathy for the worries of the elves at the moment."

He twists in his saddle to face the keep and raises his arm and makes three rapid hand gestures before turning back to face you. "The keep is restricted as its now the garrison for this area. If you wish to get lost in the labyrinth that is your concern." He puts his helm back on and the other riders turn their phantom steeds back to the keep. "I'll escort you to a servant entrance, it will take you into the labyrinth, and I've no need for any oaths. My men would welcome the opportunity to strike at those that would harm Cormyr. Walk carefully and I'm sure there ire will be directed elsewhere."

Captain Bronin lowers the faceplate on his helm and brings his steed along next to the other riders. "Follow me. It's on the east side of the keep." Without looking back the three riders take off towards the Keep, moving slow enough so that neither of you has to walk fast to keep up. Instead of going straight up the hill to the Keep the three riders follow a worn path that winds around the hill on the east side, following it as it winds twice up a gentler slope to reach the Keep. Up close you can see the age of the walls of the keep, the outer stones weathered and smooth but still strong. The path leads to a small door made of heavy wood reinforced with metal straps. Captain Bronin nods to his companions and they ride off, going further around the hill to the back of the Keep. Bronin dismounts and pulls a large key from his pouch and unlocks the door and pushes it open with his shoulder. "It's a bit drafty inside. I hope you've brought some warmer clothes." He says and stands aside for you to enter. As you pass by you feel a chill, whether from the dark insides of the Keep or a psychic remnant of the battle here you're not sure.

The door opens into a mud room of sorts with large tables stacked with drygoods and outdoor work clothes hanging up on pegs along the wall. Bronin takes a lantern off the wall and lights it with his flint and you can see a large open passage leading further into the keep; a wooden door is set into the west side of the room, closed and barred with a worn piece of lumber. He sets the lantern down on the table and grunts with effort as he unbars the door, letting the wooden beam clatter to the floor. He raps his knuckles on the door and listens for a moment before turning back. "The stairs behind here lead down to the old basement. The entrance to where you want to go will be clear to see once you're down there. From what I've heard, no one's been down in years, so watch your step."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra spreads her arms in an I sympathize, but it's out of my hands gesture as the captain grumbles. "It is precisely those 'worries of the elves' which prevent Myth Drannor sending aid to Cormyr," she responds as the group begins moving. "Your country is not the only one suffering from political infighting, rebellion, and assassinations at the moment, Captain. I am not at liberty to discuss the precise nature of the internal issues that compel us to search for this kiira, but I can say that if and when the current dangers pass, the Coronal will be in a much more solid position to extend external aid."

As much as she might look down on Cormyr's government for allowing political squabbles to devolve into a civil war, she does sympathize with the Cormyrean people--if she thought other nations were inferior to Rashemen she would never have become an ambassador, or even left her country. "I am one of the delegation arguing against the isolationist elven Houses. If this mission of ours is successful, I cannot promise that the Coronal will take a side in your conflict, but I can advocate on your behalf."

She is quiet as Bronin leads them down to the Labyrinth entrance, content not to talk if the captain isn't one for idle conversation. When they reach the entrance, she nods respectfully to him once more and says, "Thank you, Captain, you have been most helpful. May the spirits favor you in battle." When the soldiers leave them, Ayorra prays once more and weaves her protective magics, before turning to her companion and asking "Shall we?"

Spoiler

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I'm not sure how long as passed since we buffed up, so Ayorra will re-cast her earlier spells to refresh their duration, and Sydil should probably do the same.

Also, she will cast the following spells into her Quiescent Weaving:
Displacement
Ray Deflection
Karmic Backlash
Greater Dimension Door

[Chambers]

It's been four tiresome days since the Coronal asked the three of you to investigate the Eldreth Veluuthra. You've spent the past few days in the Dlabraddath District, trying to ferret out any information from the increasingly guarded N'Tel’Quessir community. While they've always known that Myth-Drannor was an Elven city, the inability of the Coronal to stop the attacks has created a breeding ground for fear and mistrust of elves in the city. In the ward itself N'Tel’Quessir travel in groups with weapons barred and no elf walks those streets alone at night for fear of being set upon by a vengeful mob.

A band of human warriors from Shadowdale have started patrolling the Dlabraddath Ward after the merchant they were guarding was slain. Calling themselves the Eight Broken Swords they have become popular among the N'Tel’Quessir for their aggression towards any elf that enters the Alliance Ward (as the N'Tel’Quessir call it). The symbol of the Coronals personal rune that you wear has kept them from openly confronting you but the people of the ward have been frustratingly closed mouthed to you about the killings. "How do we know you're not just lookin' for your next dwarf to kill?" One dwarf said before spitting on the ground at your feet. His response has been unfortunately common among the people you've talked to.

The few leads you've gotten through divination and leg work appeared to split off in half a dozen directions which may be accounted for by the peoples reluctance to talk to you and heavy wardings against detection by whomever is actually doing the killing. After chasing down dead ends you've one lead remaining: a sympathetic halfling mentioned a certain elf that keeps strange hours at the Treant's Treat. The halfling said he never sees the elf enter or leave, but sometimes sees him talking with folk he does know. He had no idea who the elf was, but said he recognized one of the men he met with, a cutter that used to work out of Waterdeep. "I haven't always been a saint, and this one time...well, never mind that. I seen that guy before and if he's here, watch your throat. I know that sonofabitch is up to no good. That elf can't be meeting him to trade recipes."

There's an early lunch crowd in the Treant's Treat as walk down the stairs to the taproom on the second floor; the past few days have seen little work go on in the ward as people become more conscious of security than profit, and the taverns and bars are the only ones still making any coin. Three humans sit at a long table drinking with a pair of dwarves while two other humans sit at one end of the bar, as far away as they can be from a lone elf sitting at the other end. The humans and dwarves stop their conversation and look up as you enter. One of the dwarves laughs and turns back to his companions while one of the humans slams his drink down and stands up on wobbly legs, one hand on the hilt of his sheathed dagger. "Sit down Yeorn! Don't cause trouble where there isn't any." The dwarf next to him says.

While the patrons might not be friendliest sort the tavern itself is beautiful to look at. The large roots that stick out of the earthen walls appear to reinforce it and while some dirt crumbles on the floor the they look stable enough to support the stone floors and ceilings. An open doorway behind the bar leads to the kitchen and storeroom downstairs while the stairs you walked down are the only exit back up to the street.

[Heavensfury]

As Tyriel and his companions walk down the boulevard towards the Treant's Treat, he pauses to marvel at how large the stately oak has grown in his absence. So much has changed he marvels, taking in the colorful neighborhood around him, and simultaneously noticing the many unfriendly glares being sent his way.Yet the atmosphere remains all to familiar, he thinks sadly before shaking himself out of his reverie and striding quickly to catch up to his co-investigators. After all, that was exactly the reason he had been so quick to volunteer his services in the effort to bring down the Eldreth Veluuthra, to prevent history from repeating itself.

As they approach the door to the establishment, he mentally checks the status of the spells he had already cast in preparation for this afternoon's investigation. The search so far had been frustratingly inconclusive, and the excitement of an actual lead had put them all on edge. Still, they had planned their approach to the situation carefully, and Tyriel trusted his almost preternaturally charming companions to handle the schmoozing, just as he hoped they trusted his magical expertise.

Before entering the establishment, Tyriel quietly intones the words to a pair of divinations, concealing the small gestures required as best as possible by walking between his two companions. The first spell gives his eyes a faint blue glow, but he hopes the patrons within will merely attribute it to his obvious supernatural origins. His heritage was no secret, and with his large alabaster wings, white trimmed in gold wardrobe, and always-shifting translucent shroud, he looked every inch the otherworldly scion.

They enter the tavern, and the greeting they receive is about what he expected, though he smiles with genuine gratitude to the dwarf who talks reason to his intoxicated companion. He scans the crowd with his magically enhanced senses, seeking tell-tale magical auras, and listening for unusual thoughts and conversations. His powerful mind handles the required multi-tasking, and he whispers what he finds, magic whisking the words to his allies' ears.

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Spells Tyriel keeps up at all times: Mage armor, Shield, Resist energy (fire), Resist energy (sonic), Keen edge, Mind Blank

Spells Tyriel cast in preparation for the tavern (150 minute duration): Tongues, Comprehend languages, Message

Spells Tyriel cast just before entering the tavern (15 minute duration): Arcane sight, Detect thoughts (concentration)

[The Great Skenardo]

Aged Elf
Sitting rather by himself is an elf in faded black clothing contemplating a chessboard opposite no one. A metal walking-stick leans against the table, and a plate of cress and mustard sandwiches sits at his elbow, and one of these he picks up with an age-spotted hand to nibble at.
Turning to look at the newcomers, his gaze is somewhat vague and betrays only a little bemusement at the collection of ostentatious individuals stepping into the Treant's Treat.
His features are angular, like most elves, and his sunken eyes are dark and quick. His etherial blonde hair is gathered in a loose and untidy ponytail.

Tyriel

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Under Tyriel's gaze, the elderly elf gleams with a number of magical auras, consistent with magical equipment of some power. Furthermore, a weak magical aura of some kind is upon him

[Oh My God]

Ethnic violence sits particularly poorly in the pit of Valinor's stomach. He'd seen the logical final extrapolation of that chain of thought in the Blood War, and the thought of where this could all lead was enough to chill his blood. And so the paladin does what little he can to soothe tempers. Wherever the trio travels in the ward of the so-called N'Tel'Quessir, they leave behind them a faint whiff of genuine kindness. It isn't particularly potent. It won't magically change any minds. But it lingers for the rest of the day, ever so slightly softening the nerves drawn taunt with fear.

" I say,", the star elf remarks to his fellows as his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior of the bar," Quite nice, isn't it? Very, ah, homey."

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Valinor is in the Aura of Triumph stance all day long; this has no mechanical effect, but it does generate a palpable aura of goodness.

[Chambers]

Ayorra

The heavy door opens onto a short landing and stone cut stairs that descend into darkness. Sydil flicks her wrist and three glowing balls of light slowly rotate around her hand like a bracelt. Captain Bronin nods and says "This was a secondary access to the Labyrinth, near as we can figure. The main entrance is further within the keep though it's been sealed shut for years. Good luck." He salutes you and then frowns, remembering that you're not part of the Cormyr military. "Old habits die hard." He mutters before picking up the lantern, turning away and heading through the hallway into the Keep.

There are thirteen steps on the stairs with an an extra long step at the bottom. The wide room is musty and significantly cooler than above, but what grabs your attention away from the chill and dust is a large archway set into the wall on your right. Seventeen stones cut of basalt form an arch set into the worked stone wall; the archway itself goes nowhere as it appears to have been filled in with stone of the same vein as the wall. Each basalt stone has three emeralds embedded in the center of it, the gems forming a triangle. Standing close to the archway you can feel the shift of magical energies and the temperature changes to warm, hot, cold, or freezing seemingly at random. Timing the differences in temperature you figure that whatever is shifting is doing so about once a minute.

The rest of the large room is filled with broken furniture, storage crates and barrels and an empty winerack. Cobwebs hang down from the corners and cover the wooden chairs and tables and you smell more than see a large patch of mold growing in a corner next to the winerack.

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Detect Magic: The gems around the archway register a strong aura of conjuration. There are no other auras in the room.

[Chambers]

Whadda they think they doin, just walkin in here? I bet I could cut those wings off and - Damn your eyes elf! Had to come in here, in his cups too.- It'll be their blood spilled and no doubt if he pulls that. That's Illsevele's rune, I know it. -Ah, let him have a go, they don't look like much. - This axe is sharper than your wit brother.

The drunks thoughts are easy to pick up along with another of the humans sitting with them. It's odd to hear dwarven spoken in a dwarves head but your magic translates it to perhaps some of the strangest elven ever heard. From what you hear of the one dwarfs mind you can read it seems as if he's having a telepathic conversation with the other dwarf sitting next to him, though you're only hearing his side of it. A pair of matched rings glow yellow in your enhanced vision along with the boots, belts, gloves, and axes of the dwarves.

The minds of the two men sitting at the bar are silent to you. As you turn your gaze towards them their outlines blur for a moment as if trying to hide from your sight but their forms clear and you see a dozen auras on each of them ranging from faint to strong. They're dressed in soft shirts of green and grey with matching brown leather breeches and doeskin boots, all of a high fashion that seems more belonging in one of the more cosmopolitan cities on the Sword Coast. One turns to look at the three of you as you enter and his face is fair, his hair dark red, the same color as the others. He glances over each of you and raises his eyes at Tyriel's wings. You can see him take a closer look at the angelic elf and his eyes narrow as he meets Tyriels gaze. He scowls and taps his fellow next to him who also turns around and you all see that the two of them appear to be identical twins. "Tell me brother..." The first one says without taking his gaze from Tyriel. "...because I may have forgotten. Is it customary to divine without permission, to seek to know every little secret and crumb of a stranger without so much as a leg bow and by your leave?" The dwarf who spoke up glares at the other one and drags the drunk man back down into his seat.

The other twin looks briefly at Tyriel and rolls his eyes, then goes back to the soup he was eating. "In civil society? Certainly not, though I suppose when one chooses to sup in a root cellar all manners and good thought stay in the leaves above." The first twin nods and snaps his fingers while whispering a word of power and his own eyes turn the same shade of blue as Tyriel. "If we're to fit in with the local populace it seems we must degrade ourselves to all sorts of unruly behavior. Please promise not to tell father."

The other twin lifts his left hand and intertwines his first two fingers. "Word of honor, brother. Your transgressions shall not pass my lips."

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The drunk man sitting with the dwarves is of average Intelligence (11), while the other two have a little bit more going on upstairs (14 & 15). The dwarf whose mind you can read shares a similar predicament with the drunk (10) and you can't detect the other dwarfs mind or the two twins minds at all.

Spellcraft DC 18: Both of the Twins have Nondetection cast on them.
Spellcraft DC 18: Waterdhavian Twin Mage cast Arcane Sight.

The other humans and the dwarves didn't appear to pick up on Tyriels blue eyes as anything stranger than what he currently looks like but the one twin appears to have a keen eye for magical phenomena (made his Spellcraft check) and your arcane sight shows you that both of the twins are capable mages, able to cast 7th level spells each.

All

Anybody have Nondetection up or something else that would stop Arcane Sight from working?